Two Friends

 To Victor ...

THE EIGHT MOUNTAINS (A) - Felix Van Groeningen is in tune with the hum of human existence. He gets the subtleties of relationships, both platonic and romantic. We recently did a third watch of his 2013 masterpiece "The Broken Circle Breakdown" (which we listed among the top 15 of the previous decade), and we swooned and cried all over again.

Van Groeningen reunites with collaborator Charlotte Vandermeersch, and here they adapt a novel by Paolo Cognetti about two boys, one from the city and one from the country, who meet at junior-high age and then part ways before connecting again at various times in adulthood. Much of the action takes place in the Italian Alps, where Pietro takes summer vacations with his parents, including his engineer father who leads Pietro and local boy Bruno on hikes along mountain trails.

Pietro and Bruno form a strong bond -- they romp in nature, splash in a pristine lake on lazy summer days (whereas my experience was usually on an asphalt playground). But their friendship fractures when Pietro objects to Bruno -- who is being raised on a farm by an uncle -- coming to live in Turin to go to high school with Pietro. Bruno, stung, instead hangs behind and joins the construction crew of his estranged father. The boys will meet again, awkwardly, in their late teens, but they won't bond again until Pietro (now played by Luca Marinelli from "Martin Eden") returns to the countryside after the death of his father, who, unbeknownst to Pietro, had kept in touch all these years with Bruno (Allesandro Borghi) during those continued summer visits.

Bruno has a proposition for Pietro: Let's rebuild a dilapidated remote cabin high up the mountain as a tribute to Pietro's father, who coveted the property. That whole setup takes about half of the leisurely running time of 2 hours 27 minutes, none of which feels wasted. Van Groeningen follows a template similar to that in "Breakdown" -- a relationship spanning time and struggling to survive headwinds.  He and Vandermeersch mix spare dialogue with well-placed needle drops of simple, plaintive songs by Daniel Norgren. (The soundtrack often evokes the "New Morning" nature hugs of Bob Dylan.)

I can't tell you how moved I was at this meditation on longing and male bonding. Pietro is 31 when his father dies at 62; I was half my dad's age when he died at 56. Pietro's father (Filippo Timi) is loving but distant. (Once, in therapy, I compared my father to a mountain -- imposing when you drink it in from a distance, but more welcoming when you get up close -- and I was chilled by the setting here, all peaks and glaciers, a rugged sanctuary for Pietro's middle-management father. Forgive me for getting wistful as I write this on Father's Day.) 

Pietro as an adolescent and young adult lashes out at this father, irrationally at times; it's what we do, because no matter how noble or giving our fathers can be, there is an urge to reject their lifestyle so that we can "rebel" and strike out on our own path -- even if, like Pietro here, it involves dead-end jobs (until he finds his true calling as a writer in Nepal) and a crushing lack of appreciation for all the important things a father passes on to a son.

And then there was the bonding between boys growing into men. I, too, formed a foundational friendship during junior high, one that endures to this day, albeit long-distance, and at times estranged or at arm's length. I've always been intrigued by the fact that age 12 is around the time that a person's accent solidifies, and there must be something, too, to the idea that a friendship formed at that age burrows deeper and lasts longer than others. It defines me to this day.

It fascinating to watch Pietro search out his path, while Bruno embraces the country life and pursues a more traditional lifestyle. It doesn't pay to keep score between the buddies -- who is up, who is down -- but as more time passes, and the men age deep into their 30s, you realize that you have followed along here as if floating down a river with no important deadlines in sight. (Marinelli and Borghi need little makeup or CGI assistance to mark the passage of time; they each give powerful, nuanced performances as searching, aching beings.)

As noted, the dialogue at times is barely there. Even some of Pietro's narration seems full of ellipses. The film invites you to insert yourself into the friendship to fill in those blanks -- creating a sort of illicit triangle with Pietro and Bruno. I recently rewatched a movie from my youth, "Four Friends," which also intermingled the sweep of history and its tension on the ties between friends. This film pares that idea down to just two boys and the men they become. Others come and go in their lives, and we might spy on them for two and a half hours, but from age 12 on, Pietro and Bruno feel the tug of a reciprocal link that seems unbreakable.

I got swept up in it. I was moved, and I was grateful to be able to share the feeling.

BONUS TRACKS

Throughout the movie I assumed I was listening to Jim James and My Morning Jacket, but I learned from the credits that the songs were by Daniel Norgren, who has a similar searching vocal style, with a Rick Danko yearning. The songs are woven into the film's nature theme. One of the best is "Everything You Know Melts Away Like Snow":

Early in the film we hear "Why May I Not Go Out and Climb Trees," another echo of Dylan (this time the "Basement Tapes"/Band sound), with the earnestness of John Denver:

 

Here's a live show in Brussels in 2016. It ends, appropriately, with a track called "Everlasting Friend":