I first saw The Friend as part of the Toronto International Film Festival back in September, squeezing it into my schedule on the final Saturday, making it the second-to-last film in my 37 film bonanza. I rushed over to the Scotiabank Theatre from the premiere of The Deb, scarfing down a corn dog as the festival volunteer rattled off the perfunctory introductory remarks. I then scurried out of the theater as soon as the credits began, my body and mind in go mode as I went a few blocks to catch the Midnight Madness screening of The Shadow Strays.

What I just described in that four-ish hour chunk illustrates the sins of my gluttony when it comes to film festivals. In the race to see everything, many films become boxes to check off. The Friend was one of those films, largely due to the fact that it didn't grab me right away, making it easy to shrug off. But in the six months since then, it's lingered moderately well, raising my guilt as to how I originally treated it.

If your best friend were to die and their will stipulated that you adopt their miniature horse, would you be able to do it? Let's also preface that question with the fact you're not a pet person, and you have a rent-controlled apartment in Manhattan that prohibits animals in the building. This is the central question posed to Iris (Naomi Watts) after her best friend Walter (Bill Murray) suddenly dies from suicide. Now, Walter didn't own a literal miniature horse in New York City. No, that would be absurd. But he did have a 185-pound Great Dane named Apollo that he adopted in a spur-of-the-moment decision while he was out on a jog. Now with Walter gone, the dog has no master and will be indefinitely impounded if Iris doesn't step up to the plate.

Suddenly coming home with a horse-sized dog is not a surprising move for Walter. He's also got three ex-wives - Elaine (Carla Gugino), Tuesday (Constance Wu), and Barbara (Noma Dumezweni) - as well as numerous flings with current and former students. He's the Bill Murray type, the life of every party and a lovable headache for everyone who gets close to him, Iris included. Murray's casting is pretty spot-on compared to the description from Sigrid Nunez's novel (she also wrote What Are You Going Through, the basis for the recent Pedro Almodóvar film The Room Next Door), and his larger-than-life presence is always felt despite his limited screentime.

For as much as The Friend would seem like the typical "dog helps a depressed human land back on their feet" kind of film, the writer/director duo of David Siegel and Scott McGehee flip much of that script. Dogs may be known as man's best friend, which would also mean we're their best friend. You'd be depressed if your best friend unexpectedly committed suicide, so why wouldn't a dog? Apollo is played by the canine actor Bing, who showcases his immense skills as a thespian. Bing/Apollo doesn't have the wet eyes of your usual cinematic dogs, something that always felt like a bit of a cheat code to our hearts. His face is blank as he solemnly stares at Iris whenever she tries to command him, his sighs are heavy every time he plops down in her bed. 

Things still move in a pretty predictable pattern. Iris' initial frustrations eventually become opportunities for her to embrace the chaos and redefine her life. Watts is at her usual best, working with a sturdy supporting cast and a few standout cathartic scenes. Dog lovers are very much the target audience for this story, and I'm sure they're going to eat it up. But even if you're someone like me who is neither a pet person nor found myself immediately hooked by what's being sold, allow it to linger in the days and weeks that follow. Like adopting an animal, this is a long-term investment.