“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky”

These words were written by Khalil Gibran, whose perspective often existed at the perfect intersection between poetry and philosophy – and while it seems to be a trivial concept at the start, there is some degree of truthfulness in how it begins to describe the importance of trees as not only vital to the existence of all living creatures, but also mascots of the past. The lifespan of a tree can massively outpace that of any human being or animal, with some remaining standing millennia since they first emerged from a seed. This is something that we find explored extensively in Silent Friend (German: Stille Freundin), the most recent directorial outing by the absolutely incredible Ildikó Enyedi, who returns from a brief sojourn away from the medium (and where her preceding film, Story of My Wife, was quite poorly received), finding a creative outlet in Germany, where she cobbles together a film that consists of three very different stories. The first is set in the early 20th century, following a young woman wishing to enter into a male-dominated field at university, the second set in the 1970s and exploring the gender dynamics between two young students, and the third during the early 2020s, revolving around a professor who takes on a new job far from his home in Hong Kong, and finds himself even more isolated as a result of the unexpected lockdown. Each of these stories stands on its own, but has one element in common: they all prominently feature the same tree, a ginkgo that rests peacefully along the paths they walk every day, quietly but methodically infusing in the protagonists a sense of self-awareness and a much deeper connection with the world that surrounds them. Told through three overlapping vignettes that interweave with one another in creative and daring ways, Silent Friend is a poignant, poetic ode to the fragile boundary that separates us from the rest of the natural world, making it clear that we exist in a state of dialogue that may not always be evident at first, but becomes increasingly more relevant as time progresses and we see the small clues that bind us all together in a state of fascinating coexistence.

A quick overview of Enyedi’s body of work makes two facts quite clear: she is a very diverse filmmaker who refuses to pigeonhole herself into a particular genre or style, and she is fascinated by one theme in particular – the human condition. In order to explore this, she often looks to the edges of humanity to draw correlations between us and the rest of the world, which is where we find Silent Friend becoming such a fascinating work. Trees are very rarely the subject of films – they’re supporting players at the best of times, beautiful set-dressing that very rarely are the focus (except in a few cases), which is something she set out to change here. At first, this seems to be a film about a tree – the first portions of the film are dedicated almost entirely to botany and remarking on the role the natural world plays in the lives of these characters, all three protagonists being academically involved in the subject in some way or another, just at different levels of expertise. Gradually, the film unfolds into something much deeper, with Enyedi exploring the relationship between human beings and nature. The central tree that occupies the focal point of Silent Friend is the only constant – the film shifts and moves in every conceivable direction, even changing its visual aesthetic depending on the scene being shown, but the tree remains stagnant, a silent witness to the changing century, as embodied by the characters that weave in and out of the film. The film is very careful to not trivialise the concept by giving too much personality to this tree – it’s not an opportunity to engage in any kind of anthropomorphism. We aren’t led down some fantastical path where we see the world through the perspective of this tree, nor is there too much attention given to the mystical nature of what it represents. Instead, it is a depiction of this entity that has stood proudly for longer than any of us have likely been alive, the focus being purely on the boundaries of human perception and the role they play in bringing these ideas to life.

Perhaps it is slightly clichéd to say that a film that best captures the spirit of the human condition revolves around a tree – but in the case of Silent Friend, this is very much the intention, and the primary reason the film is such a rousing success, at least conceptually. Enyedi is exploring different scientific perspectives throughout this film – biology and botany being the primary starting point, but woven in between these ambiguous questions that remain unanswered, we find discussions are philosophy, psychology, anthropology, linguistics and even some religion, all compressed into a film that is squarely and unabashedly about human curiosity and our desire to know more about every subject, exhausting all the resources at our disposal and yet still failing to have any solutions to certain questions. Every one of these protagonists are driven by their curiosity, searching for answers that they know they’re never truly going to find, but in the process find themselves transforming as time progresses, showing the science informs curiosity, and vice versa, as well as the theory that these answers can’t be discovered in isolation, but rather through a rigorous accumulation of bold, daring ideas. Enyedi is very fascinated by the concept of time, using three different timelines in which characters are loosely connected by existing in roughly the same space (defined by the presence of the tree that becomes central to their stories), to examine how memories are created, on both the individual level and in terms of the broader cultural consciousness – the tree stands as a mascot, absorbing over a century of stories, images and memories, which it quietly retains, being a witness to so many different moments in history. The director uses this as an opportunity to examine some quintessentially human moments – the rise of feminism in the years leading to the First World War, the rise of the sexual revolution that created a social renaissance and inspired entire generations of free thinkers, as well as the COVID-19 pandemic (this may be the first film to directly address this topic without it being tacky and opportunistic, but instead being viewed as a major historical event), all of which create unforgettable, complex connections between these people and the stories they represent.

To realise some of these ambitious themes (and Silent Friend indeed has layers of audacity that would frighten even some of the most seasoned of filmmakers), Enyedi enlists a cast plucked from several different corners of the globe in order to make this a quintessentially international production. It may be set mostly on the grounds of a German university, but these are elements of this film that resonate much more widely, which is where a lot of the ingenuity emerges, and the actors are the primary vessels for these ideas. The three core protagonists are given equal weight, and the fact that they’re so diverse (in terms of nationality, gender and identity) gives a lot of credence to the film’s central thesis, which is around the unspoken connections that bind humanity together. Tony Leung Chiu-wai (who may just be the greatest actor of his generation) is the veteran of the cast, playing the gentle but curious senior researcher who moves across the world to pursue his ongoing academic studies, but finds himself confronted with nothing but isolation. Enzo Brumm is the quiet, reserved young man navigating his own identity in conjunction with the changing world around him. Luna Wedler finishes out the trio, portraying the feisty, steadfast young woman who is more than willing to stand toe-to-toe with any person (regardless of ranking or social stature) to fight for her place at the table. It’s a tremendous cast, each one of these actors working extensively to create layered characters that contain many dimensions, each one pieced together beautifully and becoming a vital fragment in the mosaic of complex ideas that inform this film. The supporting cast is also quite good – Léa Seydoux’s role is small but memorable (and she’s always at her best when playing more grounded characters), while Sylvester Groth is also fantastic, taking on a role that could have been a caricature without the right approach. Enyedi clearly admires all of these actors, and the feeling is mutual – the copasetic nature of this film and how it develops its characters is remarkable, and makes Silent Friend all the more enthralling.

Silent Friend is an intimidating film at a glance – it’s a century-spanning existential drama in which the central themes are all based around investigating the roots of human curiosity, and orbit around discussions of biology and our relationship with something we will never truly understand. It is also 150 minutes in length, which is not an insignificant amount of time. Yet, there is never a moment in this film where it feels either tedious or too confusing, which is a credit to Enyedi’s astonishing skills as a filmmaker. The film moves at a rapid pace – it helps that it alternates between the different storylines, splicing them together (as opposed to just presenting them as standalone vignettes), which not only has the narrative purpose of making the themes clearer and more rich through actively engaging with them, but also creating a sense of fluidity between these moments, a supplementary quality that speaks to the film’s approach to exploring the fragility of time and how it is not nearly as static as we would imagine. It’s a truly dynamic film in both visual and tonal qualities. The director uses different filming approaches to differentiate between the three storylines, giving each one its own unique aesthetic that does not situate it to a particular point in time, being as loving a tribute to the past as it is a fascinating deconstruction of social and cultural qualities that defined every one of these periods. It also helps that the film avoids overly trite emotions – there were many opportunities for Silent Friend to be a heavy-handed bundle of sentimental moments, but it is far too sharp to just aim for the obvious. Instead, Enyedi utilises her skills as a strong storyteller to ensure every moment resounds with an honesty and truth that is unwavering in its commitment to the central themes that define and encapsulate this film. It is a perfect collision of images, sounds and tone, which may not always be essential for a story like this, but certainly does enrich the narrative, making it far more complex and engaging than we may ever have imagined.

While most of us would admit that Enyedi is objectively a genius, it would have seemed nearly impossible for her to make a film better than her masterpiece, On Body and Soul – a delicate, complex character study about unexpected connections. Yet, she achieves that beautifully with Silent Friend, a film very much formed in the vein of the classical, character-based dramas that clearly inspired the director over the course of her career. It’s a fascinating and moving film that is as poignant as it is poetic, created with such incredible sincerity and honesty, while also pushing the boundaries of the craft in unexpectedly moving, challenging ways. It has a firm commitment to examining every detail of the human condition, using three overlapping storylines to examine the exact boundaries that define and challenge, while never quite being able to pinpoint the exact answers, which was certainly not the point in any way. It’s a wonderfully moving film – deeply melancholic with meaningful bursts of humour throughout, it’s a masterful excursion into the past, exploring how it accumulates into a vibrant tapestry, each moment a delicate, tender thread that is as essential as those that appear around it. Enyedi is not someone who is usually discussed when it comes to looking at generational talents, but nearly everything she has done has been beyond stellar, with Silent Friend potentially being her greatest work to date, or at least a beautiful companion piece of some of her previous projects, each one memorable in its own way, driven by her steadfast curiosity and desire to unravel different layers of human existence in small, meaningful segments. It’s an exceptional work that is thrilling, compelling and deeply thought-provoking, challenging us to look beneath the surface, create our own bespoke narratives and ultimately come to realise that there is so much more to life than what we see at first. Silent Friend is destined to become one of the defining films of the decade, and it is only going to grow in estimation as more people experience it and come to realise the many unique qualities that make it so incredibly daring and undeniably moving in small but significant ways.