This Much I Know to Be True (2022, Andrew Dominik) (Patreon)

50/100

Think maybe I goofed. One More Time With Feeling made only the feeblest ping on my radar, as it never got a NYC theatrical release. (Nor has this sequel of sorts—went straight to MUBI—but I pay more attention to streaming-only now.) Looking at friends’ reviews of that film, though, I suspect that its tragic impetus provides a raison d’être that’s absent here. Dominik playfully opens with a lengthy tour of Cave’s non-musical studio, devoid of any context, which had me wondering, after several minutes, if we’d eventually hear a halting “I would like to redirect my career so that from now on the name ‘Nick Cave’ will be synonymous with ceramics.” (“Sure, sure. No problemo. Poof, you’re a potter. Just let me make a couple calls.”) For the most part, though, this is straightforward (albeit audience-free) performance footage, unencumbered by biographical pathos and only occasionally supplemented by the philosophizing that drove 20,000 Days on Earth (which I didn’t much care for to begin with and indeed did not finish). Trouble is, I’m a fair-weather Cave fan who hasn’t been actively enthusiastic about anything since 2008’s Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!!—recent albums are insufficiently melodic/dynamic for my taste, coasting on sepulchral doominess—and while Pedro Costa’s Ne change rien, in which gorgeous images compensate for Balibar’s imo mediocre singing voice, proved that “not my tempo” isn’t necessarily a total dealbreaker, Dominik adds little in the way of formal excitement, unless you’re really into watching the camera endlessly circle performers on visible dolly track. Appreciated the workout that “White Elephant” gave my subwoofer, and the climactic lighting effect dazzles (as Dominik promises Cave it will), but I’d rather have watched Cave respond to blog queries for two hours. Or just perform Abattoir Blues with the Bad Seeds.