Emotionally raw and superbly edited, you don’t have to be a fan of climbing culture to enjoy this documentary about family, grief, and love.

Alex Lowe, arguably the world’s best climber, was killed in an avalanche on Shishapangma in 1999, leaving behind his wife, Jenni, and three young sons. Alex’s best friend and favorite climbing partner, Conrad Anker, married his widow Jenni just a few years after Alex’s death. Torn was directed by Alex’s oldest son, Max.

I read Jenni’s book Forget Me Not several years ago. Jenni strikes me as both deeply emotional and extremely pragmatic, an unusual mix of strengths. I love her. She speaks very frankly in this documentary about the difficulties of raising three boys alone while Alex was working in the mountains, how she coped with the grief after his death, and how her romance with Conrad blossomed after that.

Jenni’s ability to move forward in life and love after Alex’s death is contrasted against Max’s inability to move forward. When Max questions Jenni about how quickly she and Conrad became romantic partners, she replies: “In part, Max, it was a validation of my love for Alex. I’m not going to let the painful end to those years with him be the end of me opening my heart to love someone else. It’s worth it.” To this Max can only respond “Why?”

Max was ten years old when his dad died and is the only one of the boys who has solid memories of Alex. Max has carried an emotional burden that the other boys have not, and remained adamant for years that his father was still alive. “I was frozen with Alex,” he says. More than the other boys Max has struggled to accept Conrad as his father, going so far as to keep his last name as Lowe when the rest of the family converted to Lowe-Anker years ago.

“For all intents and purposes, Conrad is our dad,” Sam, the middle brother, says. “Maybe less so for you since you had four more years knowing Alex.”
“You think Conrad is aware of the comparison?” Max asks.
“Yeah, I know he’s aware of it,” Sam says, slightly uncomfortable. “We’ve talked about it a lot.”

Seventeen years have passed by the time Alex’s body is located on the mountain. In a dreamlike sequence we follow the Lowe-Anker family into the Himalayas. The boys are young men now; Jenni and Conrad have grown old. It feels as if Alex is coming alive with every step they take, only so that he may die again. The family cremates his body there in the mountains, in the Tibetan tradition of fire burial. “You never think you’re gonna have to confront the body of your hero in that state,” Isaac, the youngest brother, says.

Putting his father’s body to rest allows Max to finally begin dismantling the wall that has existed between him and Conrad all these years. In a touching penultimate scene in the kitchen of the Lowe-Anker home, Max finally acknowledges Conrad as his father. One father has been lost but another father has been found.

“I hope this will help you accept that you can lose someone and love someone else,” Jenni says to Max.

Grief and joy, always in orbit together.

I love this documentary. It’s a beautiful memorial to Alex Lowe, the father who died, and a moving tribute to Conrad, the father who stepped in. The story is told through phenomenal editing; the music and scoring are particularly effective. I love the honesty of the family, especially Jenni and Conrad’s vulnerability. This documentary–like all the best documentaries–gives us a greater understanding of what it means to be human and is not to be missed.