Although Naomi Watts wrangles a huge Great Dane, The Friend is far from your average doggie movie. There are no slapstick scenes of the dog running away with her, and no mawkishness even though the film is about grief. This is a fresh, unsentimental yet touching story about Iris (Watts), a writer and teacher, adjusting to life without her best friend, Walter (Bill Murray), a famous, womanizing author. His suicide was a shock. But another shoe drops when she learns that he has left her Apollo, a Great Dane who almost comes up to her waist.

The drama is based on Sigrid Nunez’s novel, which, while much loved and admired, seems unadaptable on the page: It is told in the first person and Iris frequently addresses Walter directly, dropping in comments about writing and books as well as recalling the details of their past relationship. But directors Scott McGehee and David Siegel have avoided all the pitfalls of adaptation while remaining faithful to the source material. From their first feature, the bold Suture (1993), to the recent, emotionally resonant Montana Story (2021), with Owen Teague and Haley Lu Richardson as siblings reunited on a family farm, they have created deft pictures that are often more about character than plot. The Friend is just their style, with its beautiful, light-handed approach to big issues like life, death, friendship and whether a giant dog belongs in a small New York City apartment.

McGehee and Siegel build The Friend around Iris’ voiceover, including her memories and remarks to Walter, while he appears sparingly in flashbacks. Watts’ terrifically natural performance finds just the right tone: sad but not somber, questioning why Walter committed suicide and why he left her the dog. The thin plot follows her progress as she first resists taking Apollo, if only because her building doesn’t allow dogs. Walter’s widow, Barbara (Noma Dumezweni) — also known by Iris and her friends as Wife Number Three — says it was because she lives alone and loves animals. But no one thinks that a real explanation.

When Iris accepts Apollo temporarily while trying to find him a new home, he becomes hard to resist. He has one blue and one brown eye, and sitting up he looks as regal as his name. A neighbor (Ann Dowd, one of many top-flight actors enriching The Friend in fairly small roles) who drops by and spots Apollo says, “There’s a pony on your bed. A very sad pony.” He does look sad. At first it seems he might be Iris’ substitute for Walter, but more than that he is her partner in grief, their sadness mirroring each other’s. There is humor in the absurdity of the situation. Apollo is sometimes mischievous and sometimes simply big. He insistently takes over the bed, leaving Iris to sleep on an air mattress on the floor. And the film’s emotion is subtle, coming through clearly though silently when Apollo becomes attached to a T-shirt with Walter’s scent still on it.

Murray’s casting is crucial in making The Friend work so well. His familiar, rumpled presence is so endearing that we like Walter instantly and understand Iris’ grief — much more than we might have if we’d only heard about him. We don’t actually know much about Walter, but then, the movie isn’t about him.

Some of what we do know comes through the dialogue. Carla Gugino, as Iris’ old friend and Walter’s former student — also Wife Number One — carries off a lot of the backstory easily. Constance Wu adds the most humor as Wife Number Two, who is stylish, annoying and too eager to write a memoir about her ex-husband. Felix Solis, so menacing as a crime lord in Netflix’s Ozark, is much warmer here as the super in Iris’ building who keeps warning her that management will evict her because of the dog. Tom McCarthy plays a therapist in a scene that allows Iris to fully express her grief and maybe find a solution to the dog problem.

Teague appears as one of Iris’ writing students, in brief college-set scenes that give a flavor of her life but aren’t really necessary. More of that texture comes through in the look and locations. The Friend was made in New York, in parks and on busy streets, and shot by Giles Nuttgens (who has done many of McGehee and Siegel’s films) with a bright light and clarity that gives the feel of everyday life with an extra magical glow. Stacey Battat’s costume design makes Iris’ look believable — it is that of a middle-aged writer not obsessed with fashion, perfectly well-dressed but inconspicuous. 

One question answered at the end of of this model of adaptation is whether Iris will keep Apollo. By then it is clear, maybe even clearer than in the novel, that Walter left her exactly what she needed in order to go on without him.