Having it all means different things to everyone, but a rent-controlled apartment in Manhattan is probably pretty close to a universal dream — even for non-New Yorkers. It’s easy enough, then, to understand the profound conundrum facing Iris (Naomi Watts), a writer and professor who suddenly finds herself with a 150-pound Great Dane ward after an unexpected death in “The Friend.”
Not only is her place a mere 500 square feet, but it’s also one of those pesky buildings in which dogs are not welcome. Not even the cute, well-behaved ones.
Dog lovers may find the choice simple (perhaps it should be) and the apartment rules cruelly restrictive, but this is a single woman living a writer’s life in one of the most expensive cities in the world. And now she’s grappling with the idea of saying goodbye to a major part of her identity because her dear friend and mentor Walter (Bill Murray) died without leaving behind a plan for his beloved dog Apollo (Bing). Or perhaps that’s not entirely true: Iris was the plan. Walter just didn’t tell her that before he killed himself. She’s not even a self-proclaimed dog person.
The film is an adaptation of Sigrid Nunez’s National Book Award-winning novel of the same name, made by filmmaking duo Scott McGehee and David Siegel (“What Maisie Knew”). Its appeal isn’t mysterious — it’s a classic New York movie about the most romantic New York profession, writing, with actors like Murray and Watts (and Bing) leading the charge.
These are characters who’ve lived lives, too. Walter died a celebrated but problematic author, known for his womanizing and multiple marriages. He left behind not just Apollo but three ex-wives (Carla Gugino, Constance Wu and Noma Dumezweni), a grown daughter (Sarah Pidgeon) not conceived in wedlock and a misconduct accusation. Iris and Walter also had a dalliance at one point, but settled into a friendship — his deepest, we’re told.
This is perhaps the most mysterious element of the story — partially on purpose, since Walter is dead for most of the movie. We see him only in limited flashbacks and Murray wears the part well: a freewheeling, egotistical genius whose ways have skipped out of sync with the times but whose charisma keeps him surrounded by throngs of admirers. And afterward, Iris is questioning what it all meant and perhaps how well she really did know this man: It’s a kind of grief, that of a friend, that isn’t regularly explored in films.
Iris is the most radical of female characters, even, depressingly in 2025: a single woman of a certain age and no ambition to be anything else. Watts plays her with grace and dignity, as she struggles with her own writing. Even Apollo has a past: Walter found him alone in Central Park one day and took him in as his own. When Walter’s gone, Apollo is perhaps the most outwardly depressed about the loss. His days are spent either sitting sadly on Iris’ bed with literal hangdog eyes or acting out and destroying things in her apartment.
It’s no spoiler to say that they’ll both have to go on a journey to realizing that perhaps they can find solace in one another in the devastating absence of their larger-than-life friend. McGehee and Siegel avoid hokey dog movie cliches and easy jokes about ownership learning curves and instead present a rather straightforward portrait of what it’s like to suddenly inherit a very large living creature.
“The Friend” stretches on a bit too long, but it’s done with such care and a kind heart that it’s not hard to give it two hours of your time. It’s also one of those movies people complain they don’t make anymore, although its existence is a reminder that they do still make “them,” meaning smart, emotionally authentic stories about people who seem real. They just might require a little more effort to find than they used to.
“The Friend,” a Bleecker Street release now in limited release and in theaters nationwide Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “a sexual reference and language.” Running time: 123 minutes. Three stars out of four.
