The depth and nuance of loss are well-rendered in Israeli filmmaker Tom Nesher’s directorial debut, rooted in her own personal grief. Five years ago, she lost her brother in a car accident. By happenstance, Nesher’s film is being released the same year as James Sweeney’s darker, more comedic, yet similarly themed and plotted Twinless. Both explore grief and obsession in unconventional, erotically tinged ways, asking questions such as: Can one replace a lost loved one with another person the deceased was once close to? 

Disarmingly, the first 10 minutes open with a breezy slacker comedy from the point of view of late-teen Natti (Ido Tako), who is biking along the street when he’s suddenly and literally kidnapped by a group of friends and driven to a beach spot for a surprise birthday celebration. There, by the sea, the friends party and dance. At first, Eden (Lia Elalouf), with dyed maroon hair and outfitted in a skimpy, shiny green bikini, behaves like a jealous girlfriend, intense and watchful over Natti, questioning why he’s on his phone and who he’s secretly texting. But we soon learn that they are close-in-age siblings of divorced parents, bound by an intense, if perhaps increasingly one-sided, connection. An overhead shot of the group asleep at night, a neon pink rope of light snaking around them in their sleeping bags on the sand, is evocative. Moments later, Natti sneaks away with his cell phone and is struck by a car. 

The rest of the film shifts to Eden’s perspective in the wake of his death as she grieves the loss of her brother. In one unusual scene during shiva, she goes to Natti’s room, layers herself with his clothes, including his underwear, slipping her fist down the front, and mimicking his gestures. It’s here where Eden’s grief feels unconventional, specific, and raw. 

At his funeral, Eden spots a stranger, Maya (Darya Rosenn), who avoids her gaze and quietly leaves. Eden eventually tracks her down through social media and finds out Maya had been dating Natti and was the one he was secretly texting before he died. Reserved, face obstructed by long bangs, Maya is a stark contrast from the more unbridled Eden, her posture and gait more coiled and tightly wound. But out of their collective grief, and as Eden probes more into Maya’s life, they develop an intense, at times sexual, bond. 

Despite the film’s banal title, Nesher’s direction and storytelling have moments of unique observation. The promise in her work lies in the hints of its more bizarre and thorny elements (the dressing in the brother’s clothes, Eden’s obsessive relationship with Maya), perhaps of which could have been explored deeper—her feelings toward Maya remain a bit ambiguous. Without becoming overwrought, Shai Peleg’s cinematography reveals moments of intimacy and stylistic flair. 

Elalouf is excellent as the overbearing Eden, whose half-smiles and strong glares convey both desperation and a need for control. She is well-matched by the earthy contrast of Rosenn, whose character gains confidence and becomes less fearful of and reliant on Eden. The emotional interplay between these two performers is consistently engaging and surprising. The film ends on a particularly strong note for Elalouf, as Eden visibly reaches a place of higher awareness and acceptance.