Friendship on film

Ghost Dog & Raymond in Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999)

"The bit here is Raymond only speaks French, Ghost only speaks English, and they come from completely different places – hitman vs ice cream seller! And yet their relationship is as smooth and deep as if they had known each other forever, even as other characters fail to communicate despite a shared language. The script riffs off this excellently, constantly toying with how closely each character’s lines match up with what the other one is saying, while the performance is delivered as if they understand each other perfectly, even as they acknowledge they have no idea what the other is saying. For me, this is perfect filmmaking, where the director can progress plot, build character and communicate the complex philosophical ideas underpinning the film, all at once, simply by showing instead of telling." – Matt, Projectionist, HPPH.

Cookie & King-Lu in First Cow (2019)

"Cookie and King-Lu’s is perhaps my favourite cinematic friendship of recent years because of how sincere and kind it is. The strangers meet by chance whilst journeying the Oregon Trail in early 1800s America. Their relationship begins with one act of kindness, the kindness is returned, and the friendship flourishes.

King-Lu is a talker. We come to understand his character through the worlds he describes with his words and the beautiful futures he imagines for himself and, with time, Cookie. Cookie listens; we understand his heart through his actions as he tends to the spaces he occupies and prepares food for the two to share.

The differences between the two men isn’t a source of tension; it creates balance. So many films about friendship between men centre contrasts that result in drama and fireworks, but in Kelly Reichardt’s sweetest of masterpieces there is an abundance of peace." – Wendy, Head of Cinema.

Jessie, James & Meowth in Pokémon: The First Movie (1998), and the second, and the third…

"Are there better films? Definitely (the Reiko-Yoshida-written and Mamoru-Hosoda-directed Digimon films, for a start). But is there a greater, stronger friendship, one that goes far beyond being colleagues forced to work together (like the villain trios of Time Bokan that they may have begun as mere expies of, with the ratio of realistically proportioned human to monster reversed and electrocution in place of explosion), that endures no matter how insurmountable the odds it faces, in all of cinema? I doubt it." – Jordan, Cinema Services Coordinator.

Lieutenant-Colonel Frank Slade & Charlie Simms in Scent of a Woman (1993)

"Slightly embarrassed (not sure why) to say that this film is one that moves me every time and one of my all-time favourite films. A typical ’90s feel-good with an over-the-top speech and standing ovation at its conclusion, but it gets me every time. The unlikely friendship formed between Frank Slade and Charlie Simms is the centrepiece, formed due to an incredible piece of tenacity, altruism and compassion by a young Chris O’Donnell (Simms). A great example of how any two people can become profound friends if one can see past the superficial masks and barriers that people often display." – Frank, Programmer, City Varieties.

Neal Page & Del Griffith in Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)

"This is like the film equivalent of a sit-down and cuppa. For me, it’s true comfort cinema, mostly thanks to the charm of Steve Martin and John Candy effectively playing exaggerated versions of themselves.

The central partnership is a perfect study of friendship. Placing the uptight Neal and chatty and affable Del in a series of ridiculous situations that force them to stay together means the two grow to like each other despite their differences. By the end of the film, they’ve come to care about and understand each other. The final scene between the two at the train station is beautiful – even to a cynic like me!" – Stephen, Creative Learning Producer, LHT.

Owen & Maddy in I Saw the TV Glow (2024)

"Most of my favourite movies about friendship are also coming-of-age films, and I think that’s because friendship in your formative years feels much more visceral. And visceral is the apt word for I Saw the TV Glow, where Owen and Maddy’s friendship bleeds out from their favourite TV show and into every part of their lives. Maybe it’s because I grew up closeted, and on Tumblr, but the depiction of a consuming friendship born out of a TV show (looking at you Buffy, and Doctor Who, and Sherlock and so on) seems somewhat universal, and so honest.

I think one of the beautiful things about I Saw the TV Glow’s use of fictional realms and surreal horror elements is that in comparison, the friendship becomes the film’s grounded constant – like a consuming friendship when you are fifteen, it becomes the one thing you rely on. And, maybe also like a consuming friendship when you are fifteen, it is destined to end. Does an ending make a story less beautiful? Can you be unloved once someone has loved you? More likely, you’ll think about them every time you see the TV glow. You’ll remember the ways they tried to save you, even when you weren’t ready to be saved just yet. The aftermath in this film might be bittersweet, but that’s sort of the point. In Maddy and Owen’s case, there are friendships meant only to teach you something. And the story of their friendship, the reminders of the transience of young bonds, is a soft reminder, too, that coming-of-age is as much about loneliness as it is about love." – Aaron, Social Media and Content Officer, LHT.

Agnes & Lydie in Sorry, Baby (2025)

"Eva Victor’s feature debut Sorry, Baby blew me away. There are endless reasons to love it, but one of the most beautiful things about it is the presentation of the lifesaving friendship between the protagonist, Agnes, and Lydie who she has been best friends with since living together at college and still today, long distance. This kind of powerful friendship is the sort that makes surviving trauma like Agnes experiences in the film feasible.

The connection between Agnes and Lydie when Lydie comes to visit Agnes in her creaky country house is felt immediately. They’re the kind of friends who will talk about anything and not shy away from seeing each other naked even, so the immensity of the ‘bad thing’ that happens to Agnes causes even more spine shivers when they struggle, or deliberately avoid, the words to describe it. That doesn’t mean Lydie isn’t fully there for her. It’s amazing to see how much she wants to do anything she can to lessen Agnes’ pain and it definitely made me reflect on how lucky I am to have best friends like that – including one who even spent a whole day travelling across the country, ignoring weather warnings and endless train cancellations during Storm Emma because she knew I needed her.

The whole film’s nimble balance of humour amidst darkness parallels the beauty of friendship, which often brings light and laughter at times where you might not think those feelings are possible. It’s such a moving portrait of friendship which is so palpable that the film can become a friend for viewers grappling with traumas and the fear of changing friendships over time. It will reassure you that a bond like Agnes and Lydie’s can’t be broken and trauma may never entirely go away, but with a friend like Lydie, you can survive anything." – Martha, Digital Marketing Coordinator, HPPH.

Nicholas Angel & Danny Butterman in Hot Fuzz (2007)

"Are you really best mates if you haven’t shared a pint and an ice cream together? Or watched Bad Boys II and Point Break back-to-back? Or taken down a malevolent village syndicate co-chaired by your own dad?

For me, Simon Pegg’s cold but soft-in-the-centre Nicholas Angel and Nick Frost’s loveably buffoonish Danny Butterman represent the best of buddy partnerships put to screen. It’s a film and a friendship that grows with every rewatch; they are cinematic comfort food, relatable, familiar and real – no doubt helped by the pair’s off-screen chemistry and body of work.

This comic duo capture the endlessly watchable dynamic of contrasting characters finding common ground whilst retaining their individuality – and a provides the source of great humour – reminiscent of some of the best onscreen buddies, or at least my favourites, from Withnail and I (1987) to The Big Lebowski (1998)." – Ben, Website and Communications Officer, LHT.

Lee & Carter in Rush Hour (1998)

"There are honestly so many great duos in film, but Lee and Carter’s portrayal of friendship in Rush Hour has to be my favourite. The way they can overcome their differences (culturally and personality-wise) and use each other’s strengths and flaws is brilliant, funny and heartwarming.

I think Rush Hour shows such a great representation (if not a bit overexaggerated) of how opposites can work really well together.

Their friendship is not conventional, and they would have never buddied up if it wasn’t for circumstances they couldn’t control… but isn’t that how all the best duos are made?" – Alisha, Volunteer, HPPH. 

Roy & Bruce in Jaws (1975)

"Deeply unconventional friendships portrayed in film are what interest me and likely never more so than the central companionship in Jaws. I’m not talking about the friendship between police chief Brody (Roy Scheider) and Richard Dreyfuss’s nerdy biologist, nor indeed, do I speak of their burgeoning, but (ahems) cut short, friendship with eccentric salty seadog Quint, as they drunkenly trade stories of their various body scars.

Oh no. I speak of the interspecies bond between Roy Scheider and the shark. [N.B. The shark was nicknamed Bruce by the crew (after Spielberg’s lawyer) so I’ll use his proper name for the rest of this piece].

Friendships can be very tricky to manage at times, with differing interests and misunderstandings, but I think great relationships are forged in the ongoing process of understanding and acceptance of the basic nature of who we are and who we’re drawn to.

Yes, Roy and Bruce clearly have their differences (opposites attract, right?), but we’re left in no doubt that they’re drawn to each other. For example, Roy is mostly land-based and scared of the water, whilst Bruce is largely sea-based. (I say largely as Bruce does have a habit of leaping onto the back of boats unbidden). Although, it turns out, they are both from ‘out of town’. So there’s that.

Their bond, if not quite one of trust, is based, I think, around mutual respect. This can be evidenced by Spielberg’s infamous crash-zoom on Roy, when he spies his friend in the beach surf, chomping down on a young swimmer and then later, when you see the beady eye of Bruce desperately (but mutely) trying to make a connection with his new pal.

However, not all friendships turn out for the better and whilst Roy and Bruce share a summer by the seaside, Roy must inevitably end their friendship in quite an explosive manner. A shark’s gotta shark, but a Scheider’s gotta Scheider. It’s what best friends are for." – Robb, Operations & Programme Manager, HPPH.

Juliet & Pauline in Heavenly Creatures (1994)

"What’s more life-affirming than watching a beautiful friendship blossom as two lost souls enrich each other’s lives? Friends who conspire to commit murder!

Peter Jackson’s New-Zealand-set period drama is a film about two female friends who get a little bit too close to each other. Falling deeper into the fantasy world they’ve created, teenagers Juliet and Pauline become detached from the real world, much to the concern of their parents. When their special, all-consuming bond is threatened, they’ll stop at nothing to stay together.

I’ve met many women who’ve had intense female friendships when they were teenagers, ones which teetered on the romantic and even sexual. Heavenly Creatures is not only a story of friendship, but of first loves: a turbulent and confusing period of questioning one’s desires." – Katherine, Venue Coordinator, HPPH.

Autumn and Skylar in Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020)

"The friendship between Autumn and Skylar in this film is a beautiful reminder that at any age female friendships are not just important, they are a lifeline. In Never Rarely Sometimes Always, seventeen-year-old Autumn discovers she cannot get an abortion in her home state of Pennsylvania (as she would have to have her parents’ permission), so makes the decision to travel to a Planned Parenthood in New York. Struggling to find the funds and confidence to go, she confides in her gregarious cousin Skylar. We follow the friends as they travel by bus to New-York City, where they ultimately spend several days in a strange limbo between Autumn making the decision to have an abortion and getting the abortion itself. Autumn is struggling with the weighty decision she has made, and the bad news keeps getting worse, while Skylar endeavours to bring levity and joy back into her life. Throughout, both women quietly and gently support each other in one of the best representations of female friendship I have ever seen on film. It is a perfectly intimate film where often small actions speak much louder than words." – Hazel, Venue Coordinator, HPPH.

Vada & Thomas in My Girl (1991)

"Peak sentimentality without the unnecessary sap, a perfect exploration of the importance and complexities of first friendships and young love with an iconic, dreamy and nostalgic soundtrack." – Sylvia, Young Audiences Officer, HPPH.

Frances & Sophie in Frances Ha (2012)

"Old friends drifting apart, struggling to make new ones, while wrestling with all the challenges that life throws at you when you are an anxious 22-year-old. When I watched Frances Ha for the first time it was a revelation, a gentle reminder that something good will come out of the most catastrophic failures.

Frances (Greta Gerwig) and Sophie (Mickey Sumner) have a beautiful friendship that starts to wobble when they find themselves at different stages in their life. Reluctant (or incapable?) to settle down, Frances moves from apartment to apartment, searching for new meaningful connections. In this state of emotional turmoil, she comes to realise that Sophie will always be a constant in her life.

Directed by Noah Baumbach and co-written by Gerwig, Frances Ha is one of the finest character studies of chaotic, clumsy twentysomethings in postmodern cinema. A monochrome masterpiece about existential dread and evolving friendships." – Fran, Venue Coordinator, HPPH.

Céline & Julie in Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974)

"Two women meet in a park on a sunny afternoon in Paris, and from that moment, a friendship of magic, mutual invention, and childlike intensity unfolds.

Their bond defies narrative convention. Immediate, surreal, and rooted in shared imagination. They mirror each other, trade identities, and rewrite the past, collapsing the boundary between performance and life. Playful and intuitive, their relationship is full of doubling, disguise, and mischief.

This friendship is a delight, genuinely pleasurable to watch and the perfect film for a summer afternoon." – Simon, Volunteer, HPPH.

See Friendship at HPPH from Fri 18 Jul. You can book tickets here.