Before his death, French actor Alain Delon said he wished to have his dog Lupo killed when he died. Delon believed the bond between him and his rescued Belgian Malinois was so strong that the dog would miss him terribly when he died and he wanted to spare his pet such pain. (Delon's sons eventually assured the press that Lupo would survive.)
How does one explain the death of a dog? This question, and many others deeper than we might expect from a “dog movie,” lend intellectual weight to “The Friend,” a gentle drama about dealing with grief that introduces its audience to a 180-pound emotional support animal in the form of Apollo, a clown Great Dane who misses his master and is headed to the symbolic glue factory unless a big-hearted human agrees to adopt him. Naomi Watts plays that human in a generally crowd-pleasing film that does little more than focus on a dog-centric drama.
Death is a difficult thing to explain to people, most of whom would rather not think about it—an unfortunate situation with many pet owners, who don’t adequately plan for what will happen to their companions when they die. Not so with Walter Meredith (Bill Murray), a beloved old author—the kind who used to entertain his students in the past, before times changed and his teaching career was ended by misconduct charges—who bequeaths his moose-sized dog to his favorite student/ex-lover, Iris (Watts).
For co-directors David Siegel and Scott McGee, casting Murray for what amounts to an extended cameo was a stroke of luck: The role requires an actor whose presence is felt even when he’s off-screen, and whose charm may not be able to avoid such a problematic character. Personally, I had a hard time keeping up with Walter’s past relationships, as the ladies’ man’s funeral was attended by his first, second and third wives—Ellen (Carla Gugino), Tuesday (Constance Wu) and Barbara (Noma Dumezweni), respectively—as well as his adult daughter Val (Sarah Pidgeon), and several friends, Iris presumably one of them.
Does the film’s uninspired title refer to Iris, Walter, or the dog? I blame this ambiguity on Sigrid Nunez, who wrote the respected novel that Siegel and McGee adapted for “The Deep End” here. Both the book and the film can be taken at face value (as a relatively tame story of a large, sad animal being forced upon you), but they can also be read as an exploration of death, with Apollo symbolizing the psychological burden of losing someone to suicide.
At two hours, “Friend” is a fairly long, lighthearted film that serves simply as an adoption story, so it’s best to dive into it and let it play out on an emotional level, where your personal history—of loved ones you’ve lost, animals you’ve adopted, etc.—shares how much you take from the experience. A friend recently told me that dogs were put on this earth to help humans grieve, which struck me as a rather selfish way to look at it, though it’s true that their lives are shorter than ours, and losing one forces us to confront death.
Why did Walter think Iris was the right person to take care of Apollo? She lives alone in a small, rent-controlled apartment on Washington Place where pets are expressly forbidden. Iris and Walter shared a dark sense of humor, making jokes about suicide (e.g., “The more people who are suicidal, the fewer they will be.”). But she never expected him to actually follow through. And now he’s gone, and she’ll never know what he was thinking. That’s the cruelty of suicide: it leaves survivors with so many mysteries.
Iris reluctantly accepts the responsibility of rehoming Apollo, seeing in the majestic animal—“the king of dogs,” as one of her students (Owen Teague) calls him—a constant reminder of her dead friend and a living being who now depends on her for survival. The friendly but strict building manager (Felix Solis) explains that dogs are not allowed in the apartments, and Apollo is too big to sneak past in her bag. A friendly neighbor (Anne Dowd) seems supportive, but what does it have to be like when such a beast is roaming around? Complaints are only a matter of time.
I can’t imagine a more useless pet for a New York apartment, and a Great Dane is more terrifying on the streets of Manhattan, and that’s precisely what makes “Friend” so compelling. There are scenes where Apollo drags Iris by the leash, and scenes where he refuses to move. In a gag for moviegoers, the song “Everybody’s Talking” plays over shots of Iris and Apollo walking through crowds in New York (though this film can’t quite match “Midnight Cowboy” for the emotional punch it packs in the end).
Dog lovers will appreciate “Friend” anyway, even if everything is resolved too easily. Before Iris can save Apollo, she must decide that she really wants to keep him – and in doing so, she must accept responsibility for his life… and the fact that this 5-year-old animal is now closer to the end than the beginning. “Friend” serves as a lesson in grief, but also as an exercise in pre-grief.
If I wasn’t as moved by The Friend as others who’ve seen it, I attribute that to two things. First, Apollo is played by a dog named Bing, who seems incredibly well-mannered, which is at odds with the character that Iris finds difficult to control. Second, everyone in the movie was incredibly polite. When Apollo misbehaved, climbing onto her bed and demanding it, Iris immediately gave in and pulled out the air mattress. I was disappointed that the characters weren’t more frustrating.
To the extent that “Friend” aims to provide catharsis, it helps that Iris and the other characters express strong emotions. The therapy scene in the film is a good start, but the scene that follows, where Iris confronts Walter’s ghost, is overdone. Naturally, the character, suffering from a creative impediment, will seek to find a way to write about the experience. But is this really the book Walter hoped his brilliant student would produce? Dead or not, friends don’t let friends write useless fiction.
