In 2015, Nick Cave lost a son. In the exclusive 2016 musical documentary One More Time With Feeling, he was trampled by the notion that life is nothing more than barely controlled chaos, and that nothing we can hope to do is react to the inevitable impacts as humanly as possible. It was a shady and fablesome representation of Caves'' remarkable, fearlessly singular artistry, and a bleak movie into the singer''s head.
One More Time With Feeling is a great live music film ever created, as well as acting as a great companion to Caves'' brutal, downbeat record Skeleton Key. In the film, Andrew Dominik, who has known Cave for decades, composed a cheeky cameo late in that unforgettable revisionist Western, and even before this, he gave his filmmaker pal a song to use in Dominik''s prison-psychodrama breakout.
Both Cave and Dominik share more than a few of the same artistic preoccupations. Death, decay, messianic self-mythologizing, and spiritual rebirth are all prominent in both mens respective works. Both are partial to a downbeat, Gothic temperament, and both are fundamentally aesthetes at heart.
This Much I Know To Be True, which premiered at this years Berlin Film Festival before opening on May 11th as part of a worldwide, one-day release strategy with Trafalgar Releasing, is a kind of shamblese thriller to One More Time With Feeling: one that transcends the moribund trappings of that 2016 film, and in turn blossoming with a tangible sense of new possibility and even hope. It is a film about learning non only to live with grief but also to
This much I Know To Be True narrative illustrates how cave and Warren Ellis sat together in a warm and revealing way. While technically, the 57-year-old Australian performer appears to be a funnier, possibly more straightforward performer than his swaggering rock n roll counterpart.
This Much I Know To Be True is a much larger, lighter film than One More Time With Feeling. It can be difficult, at least initially, to grasp what the movie is, beyond its lengthy musings on Caves'' own creativity, which is to say nothing of the rhapsodic live tunes from Caves last two studio albums, Ghosteen and Carnage. These are songs that express the vigor of someone who has gone through hell and back, and who can count themselves fortunate enough to
Cave is chatting with us with these songs in the tragic Waiting For You. Particularly, he seems to be talking to his departed son. For an artist who so often carries in metaphor and arch, knowingly baroque imagery, the naked candor and vulnerability of these lyrics are disturbing. He is also haunted by the fact that he will never hug his son again, and appears to be in peace with the notion that his beloved boy can now, at long last
This Much I Know To Be True posits that the process of creating art is as close as any of us can hope to attain them. Cave has continued to explore new sounds, new tones, and new techniques of recording. In that regard, Dominik''s latest is far more focused on the painstaking act of making One More Time With Feeling. Even if he''ll never lose the perfect Goth cool we know and love for him, it feels like his face is gone.
The "new ways of designing music" in This Much I Know To Be True, if anything, are even more impressive than in One More Time With Feeling: In this context, the eerie, incandescent ambiance of Ghosteen sounds downright heavenly, while the ominous cosmic stomp and explicitly threatening lyrics of White Elephants play out like a distorted aural stampede, one that has eventually been whipped into a sonic sensation. These songs form a right
Both scientists feel a piece with one another; indeed, it would be fascinating to watch them back-to-back and attempt to despise the way in which they complement each other. Both films are, at the end of the day, an examination of the value that art has in relation to trauma and healing, and both can be enjoyed as old-school song-and-light shows.
In one of This Much I Know To Be True''s most illustrating moments, filmmakers pay a visit to Caves crafts/ceramics workshop. As one might expect from this particular songwriter, Cave is pictured stealing on a series of porcelain paintings depicting the devil himself at various stages of his life. This might be interpreted as a casual depiction of a man constantly dancing, in Caves own words, on the edge of the grind.
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