Grief is a peculiar concept, insofar as it is universal in principle, but yet is so singularly impossible to define or even accurately describe. It is ever-changing and takes on so many different forms, emerging from an infinite number of scenarios and being different for every one of us. For some, it is a series of flashing images drawn from our memory, in others its the crushing weight of years of regret and remorse for wasted time and the realisation that the future is going to be vacant of a loved one’s presence. In the case of Sigrid Nunez, who mourned the death of a close colleague and confidante and colleagues, her grief took the form of an enormous spotted Great Dane named Apollo, entrusted to her after her friend’s suicide. She tells this story in her novel The Friend, a vaguely autobiographical account in which she creates an unnamed character who is given the unenviable task of looking after her friend’s dog after he dies, against her wishes as well as the rules and regulations of her personal life, which include strict conventions relating to the ownership of any pets in her quaint New York City apartment. However, she finds it impossible to make any other decision – her friend had asked her to care for his beloved pet, and with a lack of help from anyone else, she begrudgingly takes on the responsibility, learning more about life in a matter of weeks than she had up until that point. Scott McGehee and David Siegel adapt the novel into a film of the same title, following the same general narrative and bringing the author’s evocative, stream-of-consciousness text to life on screen. A directing pair that have been responsible for quite a few intimate, quiet character studies revolving around the inner and outer lives of ordinary people, they are the perfect artists to guide Nunez’s stunning novel to the screen, creating a tender and heartfelt ode to friendship, community and the importance of being in control of one’s identity, particularly since destiny is impossible to predict or change, a harsh realisation that most of us only come to much later in life, but which informs nearly every decision throughout this poignant film.

While many will have likely only have become familiar with her work recently, with films such as The Room Next Door and now The Friend taking her intricately-woven novels and crafting them into poignant visual poems that are about as complex as they are touching, capturing the details of her prose in an accessible but poetic way. Something that we often find does get lost in the shuffle when adapting a book to the screen is the intentions can often become much more ambiguous, leading to some of the text’s ideas becoming too difficult to discern, and which can cause the root of the material to disappear in the process. There isn’t much of a risk of that happening with The Friend, which is a much more challenging novel, but one that the directors easily manage to transition to the screen in a way that feels like Nunez’s original ideas are intact, even if the structure is carefully edited to facilitate a visual medium. More of an experimental, long-form essay that combines episodes of recollection with a broader narrative structure in which the author blurs the lines between fiction and reality, The Friend nonetheless has some key themes that inform the adaptation, which obviously cannot adhere to the same structure (not even a documentary-style approach would have done justice to the material, since its far too specific to the printed page to ever be successfully replicated on screen), but nonetheless has merits in its own way, particularly in how the directors choose to approach the core concepts. As mentioned previously, the film centres on a woman who is processing her grief – not only the immediate emotions surrounding the loss of her friend, but also the realisation that her past is no longer something onto which she can hold indefinitely – and learning the lessons associated with overcoming these difficult circumstances through caring for an enormous dog, who presents itself as the fundamental inspiration for these overdue steps that she takes, going from an obstacle that stands in her way, to the very reason her journey of self-realisation proves to be so incredibly fruitful and captivating.

McGeehee and Siegel are usually considered “actor’s directors”, since their work always revolves around showcasing their performers and giving them the platform to experiment with their craft, plumbing the emotional depths of the human condition while also processing their own curiosities and concerns, particularly since their films are not overly bombastic or daring pieces, but rather simple, straightforward character-driven dramas about human connection and the relationship we form with one another. Naomi Watts is selected as the lead of this film (which is just another acclaimed actor that the directors add to their group of collaborators), and while she is a celebrated actor in her own right with many fantastic performances, The Friend presents us with some of her best work, perhaps her most impressive performance in well over a decade, reminding us of the exact reasons she attained her standing in the industry. Watts is a very captivating performer, but she’s always been at her best when she’s allowed to express genuine, human emotions – and this film is the perfect platform for her, and much more than the lightweight dramas that she has been peddling for far too long. She’s joined by an impressive ensemble, consisting of Carla Gugino, Noma Dumezweni (who should be present in many more films) and Constance Wu, as well as bit-parts from character actors like Ann Dowd (who deserved to be more present as a character) and Tom McCarthy, making The Friend a wonderful ensemble effort. The only questionable casting decision is Bill Murray, who is a fantastic actor and who is entirely committed to the role, but seems an odd fit for the part, never quite selling us on the character and ultimately not capturing the essence of the material in quite the same way as the rest of his cast, even if he is still very good at what he does throughout. Watts is the anchor, but the supporting cast – which must also mention the absolutely adorable Bing as the titular canine – he steals absolutely every scene he is in, and his ability to have chemistry with everyone in the cast is nothing if not impressive, proving that some animal actors are just as good as their human counterparts.

Without even watching a minute of the film, it’s clear that The Friend is going to contain some very strong emotions – this is a story that deals with death, regret and the challenges of overcoming various mental and physical challenges, so it stands to reason that it could never be expected to be a sleek, entirely elegant affair, at least not in the way that we would expect. However, the impact of this film comes in its open declaration of acknowledging that it is going to be tackling uncomfortable, unwieldy themes, and that it asks questions for which it certainly does not have answers. It is in this intentional clunkiness that we find the charm – it does not attempt to distort itself to the point where we are forced to believe that it isn’t going to contain long passages of heavy-handed emotions as we endure the protagonist undergoing the daunting process of working through her grief. A film like The Friend isn’t aiming to avoid being overwrought, but rather being creative in how it delivers its emotions – there are many sequences where it has no choice but to offer the more overly sentimental musings on death and the challenges that come when we realise a loved one has departed, and rather than trying to come across as stoic and iron-willed, the film chooses to lean into its inherent emotions. When done correctly, this kind of dense, poignant examination of very human issues can be very effective, since ultimately it is a cathartic experience to witness characters undergoing such journeys, and as anyone who has lost someone will know, the mourning process is far from neat and linear, being extremely jagged and uncomfortable, which is precisely the quality that the directors were seeking to capture throughout this film, a far more honest approach to a subject that will resonate much more deeply with the audience based on its ability to offer both guidance and insights into a universal experience.

The Friend is a very simple film, but one that is nonetheless quite honest about its intentions throughout, which is refreshing considering we don’t often see these adult-oriented melodramas about human connection being so open about their intentions. There isn’t any need for innovation with a film like this, since it contains everything we need, which was already established through the strong source material that McGeehee and Siegel beautifully adapt into this touching, earnest film that is defined by its candour and driven by genuine emotions. It features exceptional performances, and the overall experience is one that lends itself to a lot of discussion, even if most of its themes are quite surface-level and not as complex as we would imagine. There are ideas embedded throughout The Friend that will very likely be familiar to the majority of viewers – death is never anything particularly easy to process, and the filmmakers don’t purport to have any answers, but rather a few key ideas that they are intent in exploring extensively and with as much dedication and candour as it could muster. It’s a small film, and it doesn’t head in any direction that is not entirely expected, but it is nonetheless a tremendously effective film, and a solid, reliable work that reminds us of the incredible power of a simple story that is told well, and where nothing else needs to be done other than making these poignant, poetic observations that are as touching as they are quite harrowing, all being the foundation of a truly compelling and heartfelt drama about human connection, and the ties that remain even once someone has left our lives.