Patrice Laconte has a string of films that are built around meetings of strangers who have nothing in common and the relationship that develops between them: The Girl on the Bridge, The Man on the Train, The Widow of Saint-Pierre, and Intimate Strangers. My Best Friend is another examination of the ways people not only influence one another, but how relationship and community enhance our lives.

François is a very well off art dealer who often has lots of people around him. He is ruthless. He is insensitive (the opening scene is a funeral where he has gone to ask the widow about a certain piece of furniture.) Let’s face it, he’s an arrogant SOB. When he tells his dinner companions that night about the sparse attendance at the funeral, one of them opines that there will be no one for François’s funeral—he has no friends. His business partner makes a bet that he can’t produce a best friend in two weeks time.

He is sure he has friends, and even makes a list. But soon he discovers the reality of the situation. Nobody likes him; they only tolerate him. He happens into a cab that has a very talkative driver, Bruno. François is annoyed by the chatter, but later understands that Bruno is affable and seems to get along well with people, so he seeks his advice on how to be friendly. We also discover that for all his easy going façade, Bruno has no real friends either.

The obvious trajectory for such a story is that the two develop a bond that makes them the best of friends. I won’t tell if that happens or not. But I will say that the film gives us a chance to consider the meaning of friendship—how do we become friends, what does it mean to have a friend, what does it mean to be a friend?

As François and Bruno discuss friendship, Bruno says a best friend is someone you can call at 3:00 a.m. when you have a big problem. François replies that he doesn’t have big problems. But Bruno retorts that he does in fact have a problem, he has no one to call at 3:00 a.m. Here we see a bit of the problem that François has—he has no idea of relationship, only of himself—his problems, his needs, his desires. We wonder throughout the movie if François has it in him to actually make a friend or if he is so isolated in himself and his possessions that he is beyond help.

Watching the film, I began to wonder, if my friendships were the kinds of friendships that this film suggests are true friendships. Are they the kind where I could call at three in the morning? Are they the kind where someone could call me at three in the morning? Are they only surface friendships or is there a deeper level where we are bound together?

I’ve heard that it takes five close friends to keep us healthy—both physically and emotionally. I’ve also heard that very few people actually have that many. Like François, we have acquaintances and colleagues, but those aren’t always the same as friends.

Rugged individualism is part of our culture, but it can lead to unhealthy lives if we follow that idea to closely. We are not meant to be alone. We are meant to be in relationship with other people—people who can help fulfill our needs and people whose needs we can help fulfill—at least if we really are friends. Maybe it would be a good time to call a friend and take him or her to lunch.