It’s something anyone dealing with loss, be it unexpected or otherwise, may very well seek.  Some want nothing more than the release that is closure, especially when questions outweigh answers as to the circumstances surrounding the event.  Some simply want a gentle transition from a state of grief to that which lies after, while others may choose to live in the sorrow, subconsciously allowing it to etch within the fabric of their identity.  For those seeking resolution, even when the path ahead may exist as impassable, the journey may never be seen as such, as the one in the midst surges ahead nevertheless.  In a documentary aptly named “Closure, ” director Michał Marczak confronts this mentality head-on.
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At first, it’s somewhat difficult to tell if the film in question is indeed a documentary or piece of narrative fiction; opening scenes see someone, later identified as a Polish man named Daniel, tossing a bundle of items arranged in the shape of a body from a bridge into the Vistula River, and it’s not tricky to understand why.  As he takes to the water soon after via boat so as to track the bundle to its resting place, it’s clear he’s trying to get to the bottom of something, perhaps a similar path a human corpse might have undertaken.  Did someone use the bridge in a terrible manner, whether of their own hand or something else, something sinister?
This is the setup for “Closure, ” absent of interviews with key figures as Daniel’s goal is soon revealed, eighteen months removed and still reeling from the mysterious vanishing of his son, Chris, one mired in details that seem to fail in painting a picture that Chris ended his own life.  Scouring social media both assists and confuses; Chris’ online footprint, one Daniel hopes might offer clues, instead plunges him down a rabbit hole as video after video soon uncovered of clips from the likes of “American Psycho” only muddy the symbolic waters further.  The hypothesis doesn’t match Chris’ personality.  It’s back to the Vistula.  
Every item discovered not appearing of natural origin could be something substantial; a murky cylinder could be a limb or bone, the type of DIY forensics local police, according to Daniel, have fallen short on, even as every lead with even a shred of promise soon falls apart.  Presumed eyewitnesses just as quickly apologize for providing false information.  Friends who time how long it would take to leave the bridge during a gap in CCTV footage only add to the confusion.  Those within Daniel’s circle, even as they offer help, clearly sense the futility in his efforts.  Some questions may never receive an answer.
The infrared glare of drone footage adds little.  Daniel’s thoughts, often vocalized over dinner with his wife, friends, or before a fire see the weary, persistent father question weighty topics as the apparent significance of life with a blank gaze masking the determination any parent likely possesses.  Seeing Daniel decorate a Christmas tree offers a nice distraction, as halfhearted as it may be, though a sense of purpose will eventually materialize when another desperate father, wishing for his own closure following his daughter’s disappearance, takes it upon himself to ask if Daniel might join in the search, noting his unintentional expertise.  
By blurring the line that separates a documentary from the rest, with trace moments clearing the blur as when someone asks the cameraman to hold an item so they can enter a body of water, Marczak’s meditation on grief acts as both a simple tale and something else entirely, armed with anxiety-inducing score that somehow conveys a tense atmosphere that could just as effectively operate without.  From Daniel’s home to the waters of the Vistula, to the woods that line the shore and the skies above, filled with the stars dancing amongst the man’s thoughts, there’s a method to the photography of “Closure, ” both claustrophobic and not.  It’s easy, as somber as that may be, to see Daniel’s anguish.  It’s nothing more than a moment in time.
Don’t expect the film to live up to its title.  Don’t expect Marczak or his subject to find a way to tie up every loose end.  Take in a difficult period in the life of a grieving father, unable to let go.  It’s straightforward, sad, and somehow beautiful.   [B+]