Despite the varying perspectives and faiths that surround us, our explorations of death and grief in media is often limited to either a very Christian or secular point-of-view. It’s an experience that everyone can connect with, yet we all approach it in different ways, with different traditions and different reactions and different expectations, and it exposes how little we ultimately know about the world around us, as well as the feeling of insignificance that comes with it. But even with such a heavy subject matter, the way we seem to collectively combat that feeling is through humor, which we’ve seen in films such as Manchester By The Sea. This is a big part of why To Dust, the debut from director, Shawn Snyder, who also co-wrote it with Jason Begue, manages to resonate in genuinely unexpected ways.
The film opens with the body of Shmuel’s (Géza Röhrig) wife being prepped for burial after dying from cancer in nearly every step of process. However, despite doing what traditions have long dictated, the soft-spoken Hasidic cantor doesn’t seem particularly comforted. As a sort of symbol of the fate of his wife’s soul, he becomes obsessed with the details of how her body will decay. He ends up seeking the help of an awkward, foul-mouthed professor, Albert (Matthew Broderick), to make sense of the decomposition process. Albert reluctantly gets involved, leading him to get involved in shady activities and experiments to hopefully provide Shmuel some solace.
If that sounds odd, the film is well aware, and plays with that oddness in thoughtful and compelling ways. The film has a great sense of humor, rooted in the characters’ awkwardness in dealing with death and the various ridiculous situations they find themselves in, while never losing empathy in Shmuel’s emotional turmoil. It takes his journey seriously, even if the the steps taken in said journey are outlandish and involve moments like Matthew Broderick strangling a pig to death in his living room.
For a feature debut, the tonal balance from Snyder is impressive. He’s able to make you invested in Shmuel, to the point where you’re willing to go to the weird direction he is willing to take his mission. You empathize with his weird logic, as does Albert, who is our way into understanding Shmuel through the initial cultural barriers. Their relationship makes the film as engaging as it is. There’s a gentleness and compassion in the smaller moments of interaction in between the macabre shenanigans. It can be laugh out loud hilarious in one moment, and deeply moving the next, and the filmmaking is able to keep focus on these themes and the central relationship.
The performances are very strong. This is the first time we’re seeing Géza Röhrig after starring as the lead in the excellent 2015 Oscar Winner for Best Foreign Language Film, Son Of Saul. He brings a quiet presence, full of sorrow, confusion, and a desire for some greater truth. He has a beautiful rapport with Broderick, who uses his charms to great effect. His reactions to Shmuel’s antics and ideas are delightful, and endlessly funny. The interesting thing about their dynamic is that they play off like a classic comedy duo, and they both seemingly taking turns playing the foil and the straight man, but what makes it impressive is how they keep these performances rooted in emotional honesty. Shmuel’s sons (played by Sammy Voit and Leo Heller) are also solid, but they have a minor subplot about buying into a superstition, but it doesn’t really pay off as substantially as it should have.
To Dust is a massively entertaining, and emotionally resonating dramedy about the place where grief, loss, and faith connect. Shawn Snyder is smartly and compassionately able to handle sensitive themes alongside darkly comedic beats in ways that were shockingly effective, which makes it even more astounding, considering it’s his first film. Röhrig and Broderick have a fantastic dynamic and solid chemistry as they dive into some bizarre actions. It explores a unique way of how one man tries to deal with loss, and brings a perspective that we don’t often see in stories like this. It’s a small movie, but it’s a beautifully executed take on complex topics, offering its own truth in an endearing and funny way.