At some point, we have all likely heard the adage that “people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime”, which relates to the idea that some friendships are meant to be temporary, while others become a much more important part of one’s life. We can apply this premise to just about any work that looks at the importance of friendship, and how it can change our perspective on certain parts of life – and a recent film that looks at the idea in detail is Junkyard Dog (French: Chien de la casse), a small, intimate comedy written and directed by Jean-Baptiste Durand in his feature-length debut. The story follows Dog and Mirales, two young men living in a small village somewhere in pastoral France, with their only desire being to somehow escape this small community and find their way to a more prosperous future elsewhere – but when an enigmatic young woman arrives in the village and captures Dog’s attention, the friendship between the two lifelong companions is immediately put to the test, and they learn that what they considered to be an ironclad friendship has deep, seemingly irreparable flaws that only become more noticeable as they navigate these new challenges presented to them. A heartwarming comedy about some very complex subject matter, the film is one of the year’s most significant surprises, a lovable and compelling examination of two people facing a variety of obstacles that they did not see coming, and which could change the entire trajectory of their friendship if they don’t manage to find a way to overcome them. A perfect example of a young, ambitious filmmaker choosing to have their debut be smaller in scope but still profoundly cinematic in how it looks at certain ideas, Junkyard Dog is a wonderful work that immediately positions Durand as a filmmaker to watch, as well as adding to a steadily-growing canon of films about friendship that are not afraid to venture into slightly darker territory for the sake of conveying a vital and impactful message that will resonate with the broader audience, many of us being able to see some of ourselves reflected in these characters.

Complexity did not seem to be the intention when Durand set out to make this film since it was crafted to be quite a simple, straightforward examination of a changing friendship. There aren’t many films made about the challenges of a friendship when it undergoes a transition between adolescence and adulthood – there is a sentiment that most childhood companionships keep the same tempo throughout the years, never changing or shifting in any conceivable way. While it is likely that there are some examples of people being able to strike lifelong connections that keep that same sense of juvenile joy, the reality is that the most meaningful friendships tend to be those that change as time goes on, since everything needs to adapt at some point. This is where the film, whether intentionally or purely by coincidence, creates an entry-point into something much deeper and oddly more bleak since we don’t expect the story to touch on certain topics. Junkyard Dog is primarily about friendship, but one that is hanging on by a thread, which is shown through the intersecting themes of maturing (with the two protagonists growing up at different paces, one of them choosing to take on adult responsibilities a lot sooner) and questioning one’s place in the world, which drive a wedge in between what they both considered to be a solid friendship. There is a happy ending waiting for us at the other side of the film, but to get there, Durand takes us on quite an emotional journey through the shifting relationship between these two young men who suddenly realize that their fondness for one another may have reached its limit and that they either need to open themselves up to adapt to what the other requires to maintain this connection or bid farewell to a friendship that has served them well but has become something of a psychological and emotional liability to them both. It’s challenging subject matter, and the director does remarkably well in exploring a lot of these themes with elegance and tact, while still maintaining the overall charm of the story.

As we can see, several different themes flow throughout Junkyard Dog, giving it a distinct atmosphere as it navigates certain discussions that are both heartfelt and genuinely quite funny – tonally, this is an incredible work, because of how the director manages to oscillate between the comedy and drama is masterful. This was the only way that he could have possibly told this story without it becoming too heavy-handed or reliant on other factors to capture the audience’s attention. We have all found ourselves in the position of losing a friend, and whether this was just a temporary falling out, or something that lasted much longer, it can be a difficult experience, and something that even the strongest of people struggle to face – some would even consider losing a longtime friend as being far more painful than the end of a romantic relationship, something that Durand is certainly not afraid to posit in his way throughout this film, especially about how the story concludes. There are many layers to this film, and we find ourselves peering into the trials and tribulations of these young men as they navigate these challenges, becoming voyeurs to their interpersonal conflict. Considering the narrative, it was entirely possible that Junkyard Dog could have gone in a wildly different direction, becoming an overwrought, intensely emotional film that relies on melodrama and hysterics to get its message across – but this would be both counterproductive to this new style of subtle social realism that is once again becoming widespread in European cinema, and a complete betrayal of the story being told, which was intended to explore a friendship in both its happiest and most downbeat moments. The director walks a very narrow tonal boundary, and while there are a few moments where it slightly veers towards the dramatic, it is mostly quite a subtle affair, drawing out the humour from the tension, and finding nuance in some of the more outrageous moments.

Junkyard Dog is crafted as an unconventional coming-of-age story, and we find ourselves becoming instantly smitten with both of the protagonists, which is a credit to not only Durand’s terrific script but the wonderful performances delivered by the two leads, who turn in some truly impressive work. Both Anthony Bajon and Raphaël Quenard have been circling becoming major names for a while, the latter in particular having several terrific performances under his belt already and is well on his way to becoming one of the more interesting actors working in the industry. This film is a perfect showcase for them both, especially since they are playing such complex characters that are both interesting and genuine. One of the elements that immediately strikes us as we get to know these characters is how different they both are – Dog is a shy, introverted young man who would prefer to stay in the comfort of his own home, whereas Mirales is loud and bombastic, and spreads his severely opinionated views to anyone willing to hear them, which often means that those closest to him are the victims of what is very close to abuse. Yet, the two characters are bound together by the quality of both being genuinely lonely young men who realize that they only have one another and that everyone else who enters their lives is only there for a brief moment. The two leads are extraordinary – subtle for the most part, but not afraid to flirt with excess when it is necessary and appropriate, they’re both playing layered individuals that are developed to have many dimensions, which the film examines in vibrant detail as the story progresses and becomes more complex and engaging. The roles may seem simple in theory, but how the actors develop them to be as realistic as possible defines the film and makes it such an astonishing character study that touches on many profound themes.

Many elements of Junkyard Dog seem overly twee or like they were formed by a director who plucked the most popular elements from films that share this subject matter, and turned them into the foundation for this film, which is one way to look at it, albeit it limits us from actually seeing precisely what sets this film apart from those with similar subject matter. There is a quietness to this film that is incredibly interesting, and we find that if we look in between the vastly comedic moments (which are genuinely entertaining and heartwarming), we find that there is a beautifully tender story of two men trying to navigate their lives, realizing that they are not the reckless teenagers they think they are anymore, and instead need to start looking towards the future to fully understand what it means to be an adult. It’s a wonderful, heartfelt film with a tremendous sense of humour and a lot of complex ideas that may not register at first, but have a vital place in the overall progression of the story, which is an elegant, meaningful examination of a changing friendship. It’s not without its moments of deep despair, and we find ourselves starting to question why these characters keep trying to mend a toxic friendship – but it all proves to be the basis for a nuanced, captivating conversation on the nature of human connections, and how despite the differences that we have on the surface, we tend to form meaningful relationships with people who speak to us on a spiritual level. Exploring these ideas through the guise of an offbeat, hilarious and often quite peculiar comedy was a tremendous decision, as it not only helps elevate the material to be much more complex, but it allows the experience to be even more memorable, which is exactly what Durand and his cohorts were aiming to achieve with this lovely but thought-provoking comedy about the unrelenting power of true friendship.