Film Review: Fwends (2025) - Australia
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 7.5/10
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There is a particular, precious alchemy in the cinema that occurs when actors inhabit their roles so completely, and a director captures them with such unassuming grace, that the screen seems to dissolve. We aren't watching a performance; we're granted privileged access to a life. Sophie Somerville's remarkable debut feature, “Fwends”, achieves this delicate magic. It’s a film less concerned with where its characters are going than with the intricate, messy, and deeply resonant journey of simply being with them right now.
Set against the vibrant, yet somehow isolating, backdrop of Melbourne, “Fwends” follows Em (a wonderfully brittle Emmanuelle Mattana), a Sydney lawyer drowning in the soul-crushing toxicity of corporate life, and Jessie (the effortlessly magnetic Melissa Gan), a Melburnian adrift after a breakup and a career U-turn. The plot, such as it is, unfolds over a single weekend as they walk, talk, eat, drink, and wander. This is "mumblecore" refined, a "walk-and-talk" symphony conducted with an ear for the profound within the mundane.
The brilliance lies in the subtext. The title “Fwends”, with its playful, almost childish spelling, hints at the film's deceptive surface. Yes, there is banter – sharp, funny, often absurdist exchanges about dating apps, terrible bosses, and the existential horror of choosing brunch. But beneath this sparkling stream of consciousness flows a deep, persistent current of melancholy. This is a film acutely tuned to the 2025 zeitgeist: the crushing weight of impossible rent, the gnawing anxiety of unfulfilled potential, and the peculiar loneliness that thrives amidst hyper-connectivity. Em carries the scars of her corporate battlefield; Jessie radiates the vulnerability of someone whose life-plan just imploded. Their friendship isn't just support; it's a life raft in choppy, uncertain waters.
Somerville, wisely, gets out of the way of her actors. The camera, agile and unobtrusive, follows Em and Jessie in long, fluid takes through Melbourne's laneways, parks, and cramped apartments. The city isn't just a setting; it becomes a palpable third presence, reflecting their moods, offering fleeting distractions, amplifying their isolation or their connection. This technical choice, born perhaps of budget necessity, becomes the film's greatest strength. It forces authenticity. Mattana and Gan don't just act; they breathe the same air as their characters. You forget you're watching a performance. You feel like you're eavesdropping on two old friends trying desperately to navigate the bewildering terrain of their late twenties.
Is it perfect? Well, no. The very commitment to realism that gives “Fwends” its power can also test patience. The second act occasionally meanders like its heroines, lingering in moments that feel perhaps too true to life's inherent lack of dramatic punctuation. Viewers conditioned to traditional narrative engines – clear goals, escalating conflicts, neat resolutions – might find themselves glancing at their watches, wondering when the "story" will kick in.
But for those attuned to the rhythms of genuine human interaction, these quiet stretches feel earned. They are the spaces where the unsaid resonates loudest, where shared silences speak volumes, where the simple act of being present for another person becomes the most significant action possible. “Fwends” understands that life's most profound shifts often occur not during grand gestures or climactic confrontations, but in the distracted pauses between sips of coffee, during a shared laugh on a street corner, or in the weary comfort of knowing someone truly sees your exhaustion.
“Fwends” is a small miracle of authenticity. It’s poignant without being maudlin, witty without being glib, and deeply relatable without resorting to cliché. Sophie Somerville announces herself as a director with a keen eye and a profound understanding of the complexities of modern connection, particularly the fierce, fragile bonds of female friendship. Emmanuelle Mattana and Melissa Gan deliver performances of such naturalistic grace they feel less like acting and more like life captured. While its deliberate pace and lack of conventional plot may not be for everyone, “Fwends” is a triumph of intimate observation. By reminding us that sometimes, the most heroic act is simply showing up for your friend, walking beside them, and listening. (Neo, 2025)