So many of my favorite stories, in any medium, are about

Hear the wise and tender words of Susanna Fogel, writer, storyteller, and chronicler of the heart, who said: “So many of my favorite stories, in any medium, are about friendship. Those relationships are so often just as emotional and complex as any romantic or family dynamics, and yet there’s a dearth of resonant, grounded films about platonic bonds in American films.” In this reflection lies both a truth and a lament — a truth about the power of friendship, and a lament that the world, in its obsession with romance and blood ties, too often overlooks the quiet majesty of bonds that are neither romantic nor familial, but sacred nonetheless. Fogel reminds us that friendship — that meeting of souls born not of necessity but of choice — is among the deepest of human experiences, deserving of reverence, poetry, and story.

Susanna Fogel, known for her work in film and television, has built her art upon the exploration of human relationships. Her words arise not from abstraction, but from observation — from years spent studying the patterns of connection that define our lives. She speaks for every storyteller who has ever felt the weight of the unwritten: that the tales of friends — companions who walk beside us through joy and grief, who know our laughter and our flaws — are too rarely told with the gravity they deserve. In her eyes, friendship is not a supporting theme, but a central pillar of the human condition. It is a force as profound as love, as shaping as family, and as enduring as time itself.

From the days of antiquity, the ancients held friendship in the highest regard. The philosopher Cicero, in his treatise De Amicitia, wrote that friendship is “the greatest gift of the gods,” a bond that transcends wealth and blood. In the epic tales of old, the heroes themselves were bound by such sacred ties: Achilles and Patroclus, Gilgamesh and Enkidu, David and Jonathan — each story a testament to the truth that friendship is not a lesser love, but a love of equal power, purified of desire and chosen freely by the heart. These bonds changed the course of kingdoms and legends. They were built not on passion or obligation, but on shared purpose, loyalty, and the deep recognition of one soul by another.

Consider the tale of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, two great minds whose friendship shaped the very landscape of modern literature. They met as professors, bound first by their love of myth and language, but what began as intellectual camaraderie deepened into something far greater. They challenged each other, inspired each other, and believed in each other when the world did not. It was Tolkien who urged Lewis to embrace faith again; it was Lewis who encouraged Tolkien to complete The Lord of the Rings. Their friendship, rooted in respect and shared vision, gave birth to stories that now belong to the ages. Such is the alchemy of true companionship — the ability to transform the personal into the eternal.

Fogel’s words mourn the absence of these kinds of depictions in modern art — where friendship is too often relegated to comic relief or background, while love and family command the spotlight. Yet friendship, she reminds us, holds its own storms and symphonies. The quiet ache of growing apart, the fierce loyalty that defies distance, the bittersweet joy of understanding someone completely — these are emotions as profound as any lover’s embrace or family bond. Friendship, when true, is both mirror and anchor: it shows us who we are and steadies us through life’s tempests. To neglect it in our stories is to forget a part of what makes us human.

There is also within Fogel’s lament a call — a call to artists, thinkers, and dreamers to celebrate platonic love with the same reverence given to romance. For friendship, too, is a form of love, one that teaches patience, humility, and grace. It asks for nothing but sincerity and offers everything in return. It is the chosen family, the quiet guardian of our hearts, the proof that affection can exist without condition. To tell the stories of friendship — raw, complex, imperfect, and true — is to remind the world that love wears many forms, and that not all of them require the vow or the bloodline.

The lesson, then, is simple yet sacred: value your friendships as you would your deepest loves. Honor them with time, truth, and tenderness. Do not diminish them as lesser bonds, for they are among the rarest gifts life bestows. Seek friends who bring out the noblest parts of you, who see your light and forgive your darkness. When they falter, stand by them; when you falter, let them steady you. And when life parts your paths, remember them not with sorrow, but with gratitude — for even brief friendships leave eternal imprints on the soul.

So, dear listener, carry Susanna Fogel’s wisdom into your life: make space for friendship in your stories, in your art, and in your heart. Let it breathe, let it be seen, and let it be honored. For though the world sings endlessly of lovers and family, it is the friend — the quiet companion who walks beside us through the ordinary and the extraordinary alike — who reminds us that we are never truly alone. And that, above all, is the story worth telling.