Critic Reviews

Strange, enrapturing, simultaneously vast and minute, Enyedi’s latest spends a lot of time considering how we perceive our surrounding flora — but just as much on how it perceives us, which is where it starts to get a bit special, and even a bit sexy.

Built around silences and the steady accumulation of human and natural detail, the story feels at times as if it’s being told by the tree itself: omniscient, unflinching, yet shot through with an almost alien tenderness. Its perspective is not so much Olympian as it is pointillist.

The film has a remarkable formal and narrative fluidity, not presenting its three stories as discrete chapters but cutting effortlessly from one to the other, with Ms. Enyedi sometimes dipping into a period for the length of only a shot or two before spinning off to a different storyline.

Trees, like people, are deeply connected to the world around them. We, like they, pick up on signals, receive and interpret them, and respond in kind. “Silent Friend” offers the gentlest of those signals to us, in the form of its own hypnotic, mesmeric filmmaking. Pick up on those signals, let them rattle around in your head, and you’ll be richly rewarded.

Enyedi and master cinematographer Gergely Pálos bring us a triptych of tales in three separate time frames, employing individual cinematic formats for each.

Immersing yourself in the daze of Silent Friend is like accepting a joyous gift, even if you don’t ultimately believe that plants can or want to communicate with us. With her exquisite new work, Ildikó Enyedi has achieved the improbable goal of making non-human, humanistic cinema that is inclusive and reverent without falling into idolization (of plants) or condemnation (of humans).

Enyedi is a master stylist who knows how to create a certain mood, mixing visual poetry with deadpan humor, and big ideas with quotidian foibles, in a film that explores our mysterious relationship with both the green world and one another.

A profoundly moving experience about nuanced thematic explorations of connections that is exceptionally crafted. The somber filmmaking highlights an engaging atmosphere, and the narrative is layered, nuanced, and captivating. The performances are all exceptional.

The fluid, idiosyncratic charm of Silent Friend — which never feels like two and a half hours — is in Enyedi’s heartfelt belief that curiosity is simply a garden that grows progress. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that this veteran dreamweaver’s key cast are entrancing, inviting specimens themselves, led by an inner glow of compassion in Leung that feels like its own natural energy source.

As much as Enyedi enjoys positioning her camera among the branches, Silent Friend is ultimately too invested in the power of human faces and bodies to adopt a purely plant-centric perspective; what it achieves is more of a hybrid gaze, which encourages us to marvel at creation in all its forms.