It is difficult to make an effective, meaningful film about grief. 

It is, perhaps, even more difficult to do so within the confines of an indie short film. 

Yet, sometimes it happens. Sometimes, the perfect story comes along. Sometimes, the cast learns how to connect-the-dots to tell a story that resonates deeply feeling both honest and devoid of histrionics. 

The Climb is such a film, a 14-minute short starring Shawnee Badger and Adam L. Harrington as a father/daughter duo embarking on what will be a strenuous mountain climb. Sloan (Badger) and Caleb (Harrington) are, as we quickly suspect, carrying much more weight as their seemingly constant companions. 

There is a comfort between the two, a relaxed intimacy that makes their father/daughter relationship feel authentic. Caleb is quick with the bad dad jokes, yet just as quickly as these jokes rise to the surface so do old tensions, bittersweet memories, and old wounds triggering raw emotions. 

Badger, who co-write the script along with Raul Rosco Guerrero, is a relative newcomer whose work here promises more to come. Again, it is difficult to turn out a convincing short film centered around grief. Yet, Badger and Guerrero have written a simple, immensely engaging story that draws us in and makes us care about these people. As they reach the summit, Sloan faces a choice - disappear further into the darkness of grief or climb toward the light and keep moving upward and forward. 

I will confess that I sometimes hesitate with these films centered around grief, not because of any critical bias but because, quite honestly, much of my life seems to have carried with it waves of grief from growing up with significant health challenges to the loss of a wife and child to having only recently lost the final remaining member of my immediate family. 

Grief is hard. Grief is exhausting. Sometimes, I simply don't want to go there. 

I must also confess, however, that Badger's e-mail was compelling. First, she effectively followed up when realizing she'd submitted outside my established boundaries. Secondly, she was both honest and prepared. She made my job easy. 

Bravo for that. 

So, I decided to sit down and watch the film. As I did, I was drawn to Badger's performance and that of BAFTA nominee Adam L. Harrington, an acting vet who wisely committed to this project. It's a tremendous vehicle for his talent. Justin Hogan's direction is quietly confident, disciplined yet also giving these characters room to breathe and room, in essence, to grieve. Angelo Garcia de la Garza's lensing for the film is both beautiful to behold and patiently observational. The original score by Karen Tanaka companions the film without ever dominating it or hitting a false note. 

Grief is this weird thing. It's common ground, a connector really. Yet, it's also a time when we can be in a crowded room and feel completely alone. The Climb, at least in my eyes, speaks to the healing power of nature but also to the healing power of the world around us. There's something majestic, miraculous even, about those who choose to stay alongside us as we grieve. There's something amazing about those who hug and heal, show up and risk saying and doing the wrong thing. In 14 minutes, The Climb certainly doesn't tell every aspect of grief but it creates a world where we understand these two people, we care about them, and we want them to heal. We want them to feel connected, loved, and capable. 

The Climb is a lovely little film. I hope you get the chance to see it. 

Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic