Life is short, filled with joys and sadnesses, and it is all over far too quickly – but if we are lucky, we find someone with whom we can share the burden of navigating these challenges. Many of us are able to encounter kindred spirits, and occasionally they tend to come to us at seemingly inopportune moments, or present themselves in a manner that doesn’t initially imply the importance they will have as companions on our journey. This is a concept that Eileen Byrne is evidently fascinated by, as it forms the foundation for The Mariana Trench (German: Marianengraben), her beautiful and evocative film that blends soft-hearted comedy with wry, sardonic humour to tell the story of Paula, an aimless young woman who leaves her home in Germany on an impulse, planning to make her way to Northern Italy for reasons that aren’t immediately made clear. On the way, she meets Helmut, a grouchy older man who initially enlists her help in retrieving his wife’s ashes from her gravesite, before making it clear that her purpose has been served. However, when it turns out that he is heading in the same direction, Paula decides that she is going to try and take advantage of what appears to be someone in desperate need of a companion – and while initially resistant to her offer to accompany him, he gradually begins to realise that having a travelling partner can be beneficial, especially when it turns out that their motives for reaching their specific destinations are almost identical. A wonderfully moving and deeply human comedy that combines many different ideas in its effort to explore the trials and tribulations of these two hopelessly lost individuals as they find each other and realise that sometimes the key to recovering from any kind of trauma is through finding those with whom you can share your journey and find new pathways towards healing, a challenging but worthwhile endeavour. Poignant and endearing, and genuinely well-crafted (especially considering this is Byrne’s feature-length debut), The Mariana Trench is a film that understands exactly how to draw the audience in, keeping us invested and enthralled while also communicating a deeper and more profound message than we may initially realise.

There is a moment in The Mariana Trench where the protagonist says something that roughly translates to “if grief was a language, I have found someone who speaks it as fluently as me, only in a different dialect” – this simple statement is not only one of the most emotional moments in the film, but is the point where we find every theme Byrne was intent on exploring condensed into a single sentiment. Grief is a peculiar concept – we all mourn in our own way, yet it’s a universal experience to try to process a loss. It seems almost miraculous when we find someone who apparently can bear the same pain that we do, since it makes us feel slightly less alone – this is what Byrne is so focused on exploring with this film, which explores the experience of navigating a loss, particularly one that isn’t recent but rather occurred many years before, in the hopes of understand precisely what it is that makes this such a challenging process. Many films tend to look at the direct aftermath of the loss of a loved one (since this is usually the period that contains the most fertile ground for exploring strong emotional reactions), and not nearly enough focus on the experience of feeling grief settle deep within the soul, becoming more of a dull ache than a sharp pain, but one that tends to linger in uncomfortable and awkward ways. To explore this concept, the director makes use of the very familiar “odd couple” scenario, since this doesn’t only immediately give the film the necessary contrast on which the story can be built, but also adds layers of nuance in how it shows that two people from almost entirely different backgrounds, and who exist across generations, can still find common ground in the sense that they’re both experiencing the challenges of navigating grief, becoming the support system the other desperately needed but were too afraid to directly seek out. It’s a beautifully poetic exploration of friendship, as seen through the eyes of two people who are about as different as any two individuals could be, yet still prove to have much more in common than either of them may have expected at the moment of their fateful first encounter, which in turn sets forward a series of events that set them both on the path towards healing.

To bring the story to life, Byrne enlists two exceptional actors in the form of Luna Wedler and Edgar Selge, both of whom are incredible performers. Wedler is quietly making quite a name for herself in the European arthouse, with her unique style of acting and clear versatility playing a major role in her recent rise to acclaim. She’s wonderful in The Mariana Trench and deserves credit for taking a character that could have easily been quite one-dimensional and turning her into a more layered, complex protagonist. It’s not easy to be handed a role that could be viewed as nothing more than a petulant, rebellious young woman whose irresponsible actions could be a sign of something much deeper and more worrying lingering beneath the surface. However, in Wedler’s capable hands, Paula becomes a truly tragic figure, someone whose promising career in academia was rapidly derailed after the death of her brother, whose drowning immediately caused her interest in marine biology to disappear entirely. This is a truly sad story of how unexpected circumstances can lead to drastic changes, becoming a harsh and harrowing reminder of the volatility of life. She’s paired with Selge, who technically has the easier task of playing the part of Helmut, a man who is in the final stages of his own life, and who essentially just has to play into the archetype of the grouchy older companion whose misanthropy conceals a fragile, sensitive spirit that has developed a hardened interior to protect itself from the pain that life tends to throw in our direction from time to time. They’re both extraordinarily moving, compelling performances that feel earnest, sincere and genuinely complex, which is a credit to both Byrne for creating these characters, and the actors for being willing to open themselves up to playing such vulnerable people. The Mariana Trench is essentially nothing more than a story of two lost souls finding each other at the right moment, setting out to brave the countless challenges that stand ahead of them while being accompanied by someone who somehow understands exactly how they feel about some of life’s most impossible, challenging questions.

Considering the extent to which The Mariana Trench is committed to exploring the subject matter and what it represents, it is not surprising that there is a lot of opportunity to explore the emotional content of this story. However, the brilliance of this film is not in how it avoids being too sentimental, but rather in the ways it embraces – very rarely do we find a film that wholeheartedly commits itself to not only exploring the experience of losing someone, but also the underlying challenges that come in the aftermath, particularly the months and years following the event, which is where some of the most potent and immeasurable pain tends to reside. Rather than making an overly melodramatic film that focuses on the inherent sadness that these people would be feeling, the director chooses to go in another direction, exploring the trauma from a more upbeat perspective. Neither Paula nor Helmut wish to be defined by their trauma, but it is ultimately impossible for them to get over the immense loss – but their journey (both physical and psychological) is not about forgetting the people that they’ve lost, or numbing the pain, but rather sitting with the grief, acknowledging it as a way to always remember the people who are no longer with us. Throughout the film, their sadness is not viewed negatively – they both adored the people that they’re mourning, and while they can sometimes feel angry, despondent and hopeless, there is never any sense that they are fighting against anything that is unnatural. Grief is unfortunately a part of life, and throughout this film, Byrne reflects on this concept with elegance and nuance – there’s something so profoundly endearing about how she captures these people and their journey towards healing. It is also smart in that it refuses to look at this as a process where they fully recover from the pain, but rather learn to accept it, focusing on the joyful memories rather than the overall loss, which is far more difficult to reconcile. Never going for the most obvious cues, but still being familiar with how it handles these emotions, the film is a masterful example of how one can easily explore grief without resorting to the same tired, heavy-handed techniques that tug on the heartstrings but rarely add anything of value to the conversation.

At a glance, The Mariana Trench may not seem like anything particularly daring and provocative, nor something that departs too massively from the many similarly themed films we get every year that follow characters dealing with grief. Yet, it proves that a simple story can be extraordinarily effective when told well and given the appropriate amount of attention and respect, especially when handling some of these more challenging topics. The film is a much quieter affair than we may expect, but it finds a strong balance between humour and pathos, often finding new ways to keep us invested and entertained, even when it can sometimes feel slightly unwieldy in a few ways. The core performances are absolutely remarkable, and have a genuine charm and intellect that helps overcome some of the more overwrought moments of melodrama – these don’t derail the film or even stir a negative reaction, but instead make it clear that it is drawing from quite a derivative pool of works, all of which revolve around the process of working through one’s grief. Through choosing to highlight the theme of friendship, as well as looking at mourning as something that never ends (in fact, there is an argument to be made that it can become more difficult as time goes on, since we have to learn to overcome the initial sadness and being to adapt to a world without someone we truly cherish), The Mariana Trench captures some genuinely moving, insightful commentary that may not be particularly revolutionary, but worth exploring, particularly in how it underlines just how wonderful it can be to find someone who may not make sense as a companion at first, but whose own journey, when compared to our own, becomes oddly compatible. The loss of a loved one often leaves the door open for new people to enter our lives, and while it can never be a replacement for the people who have departed, it does prove to be an essential step forward on the road to recovery, a theme that this film explores with such incredible dedication and sincerity.