This Much I Know to Be True – An Undeniably Compelling Doc

This Much I Know to Be True examines the creative relationship between Australian musicians Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, even featuring their first performances of songs from their last two albums, in which they are accompanied by backup singers and a strings section.

What this documentary does best is knowing exactly what part of the vast history it’s covering to focus on, as well as subsequently contextualizing what it all means in the grander scheme. To be specific, it builds upon your knowledge of Cave and Ellis’ work within The Bad Seeds, which helps one to understand what makes their solo projects click so well. For the uninitiated, this may be a good way to understand Cave and Ellis’ work ethic, as well as the themes and ideas running through their music.

This Much I Know to Be True opens with Nick Cave in his workshop, where we get to learn more about what fascinates him through his series of porcelain sculptures depicting the various stages of the devil’s life. Cave is very much a man interested in all the ways to deconstruct the myth behind many of the tales that fascinate us who could be considered less intrinsically inclined. He delves into all kinds of macabre figurations, depicting the devil in its own art form and turning what most of us see as a symbol of evil into something sad and tragic. This tragedy echoes through much of Cave’s work, and as such it’s not surprising he would create The Red Hand Files to reach out to his fans, those who may be struggling, whether or not it is at all similar to his own struggles, or those who are just eager to hear his advice, whatever it is.

The recent Cave/Ellis albums in question are Ghosteen and Carnage, the former was written in the aftermath of the death of Cave’s son Arthur, and here you see one facet of how Cave and Ellis’ collaborative partnership strengthens each other and provides net positives to make their creative ideas click. Ellis in particular shows a surprising amount of influence over the musical landscape, atmosphere and mood, a symphony of minimalist melancholy executed through ambient synths and eerie strings, with tales of the Southern Gothic that might remind one of Johnny Cash’s work in the genre. But if Cash was a rugged outlaw one step away from prison or a shootout, then Cave is the gaunt, otherworldly ghost left in his mirror view, with Ellis almost being the tangible human counterpart. One can imagine the two walking down a windy hillside during a gray summer evening, as ghosts and living beings, past and present. That’s the kind of music their collaborations inspire, and the documentary serves as a chamber piece, with the performances becoming its own big climactic set.

In the end, This Much I Know to Be True effectively symbolizes its own title – it might not have all the answers behind the truth, but there is something undeniably compelling about the man at the center, including all his mystique, myth, and gothic tragedy, balanced in equal form by his partner in creativity.

still courtesy of levelFilm

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Gabe Guarin

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