20,000 Days on Earth

I really like Nick Cave. He has cameos in two of my all-time favourite films, The Assassination of Jesse James and Wings of Desire. His score for the former is my all-time favourite too, a collaboration with Warren Ellis of whom he's seen hanging out together here. This documentary, 20,000 Days On Earth, is perhaps coming a little too late or early to paint the most fascinating portrait of the rock artist, though it would have been a less catchy title. His last album is good, not great, perhaps played a little too safe. Nevertheless, his creative process is still interesting to watch as we're allowed access into the recording studio. But this isn't a straightforward documentary. It has bits of verite, fiction and interviews.

It's a shame the fiction isn't as well handled and it comes off as contrived and stilted, including when the mystical celebrity cameos keep Cave company in car journeys. It's the way the film is shot too which uses the type of photography that's fit for HD TV rather than cinema though it has its moments. However, it makes up for all that for being very insightful. The interviews are no holds barred with penetratingly honest questions. Cave explains that his biggest fear is losing his memory, and I wish the film took that as its primary thesis, looking into Cave's memory instead of an irreverent day in the life. It does have its trips into nostalgia and excels in those moments. 20,000 Days On Earth is still a very good doc thanks to its subject matter, but it needed more focus and guidance.

7/10

". . . The never-ending drip feed of eroticism" Nick Cave

I'm not sure either what that quote means, but what you may get is a sense of writer/musician Nick Cave's poetic inclinations and the sensuality of his life, encapsulated in a fictional day, his 20,000 day on earth to be specific. Starring him, of course, because he is the center of his universe, and he believes, maybe a deity or an angel. He once said about his creations: "I can't explain that dividing line between nothing and something that happens within a song, where you have absolutely nothing, and then suddenly you have something. It's like the origin of the universe."

This smooth fictional biography, partially narrated by Cave, first takes us in his fine car, which he always drives, to visit his therapist (scene so relaxed and interesting I wish we could have heard the results). Then lunching with band mate Warren Ellis, where the talk is mostly music, and over to an archive brimming with his memorabilia.

Interspersed are performances with The Bad Seeds, from his almost Leonard Cohen-like poetic music to his Jagger-like rocking in Sydney (he's an Aussie), where the capacity crowd is fully under his spell. As he speaks through the music about its transforming power, he also shows us his struggle to bring poems and lyrics together. He once said about author vs. musician: "Musicians are at the bottom of the creative pyramid and authors are at the top, and many people think it's unacceptable for someone to attempt to jump from the bottom to the top of the pyramid."

Along the way we see him and his sons eat pizza and watch Scarface. Although he seems to have little time for his family, when he does, it's relaxed just the way he presents himself to us in a film that gives much more insight into an artist's creative process than we usually get with bios.

"My music has to do with beauty, and it's intended to, if not lift the spirits, then be a kind of a balm to the spirits." Nick Cave

Nick Cave is a very special musician. In fact musician may be the wrong descriptor.

He's a very special writer that specialises in music. He has Warren Ellis and his many collaborators to dial up the music side of the equation.

in this documentary, that looks like a movie, that, yes, he co-wrote, you find yourself immersed in the mind of a genius for an hour and a half as he discusses his life, his loves, his inspirations and his deep internal psychology in something approaching forensic detail.

He is a very beautiful man.

He talks painfully honestly at times about everything that is true to him. His 'muse' - his wife Susie who lies, back turned to camera in bed with him as the film opens.

We see half glimpses, stolen moments, of her off and on through the film but little more. We see a photo of her projected on the wall of his archivist's office.

She is as beautiful as he is.

Later we see Cave guzzle pizza with their twin sons, arm around the shoulders of one of them, devoid of comment/emotion, almost voyeuristically. It also spells L.O.V.E.

We see him kiss Warren Ellis full square on the lips as he visits his musical 'muse' on the occasion of a casual lunch of eels in black pasta. More love.

Cave carries an aura of love around with him. Yet he's often labelled with hate (partly because of the baggage of The Birthday Party have burdened him with. Grinderman, in this respect cannot help.)

We see him in the recording studio.

Gold dust. (Watching drummer Thomas Wydler as he twitches and mouths the rhythms is mesmeric.)

We see him crafting lyrics.

Gold dust. (His notebooks are works of art in their own right.)

We see him performing live.

Now, this is the thing. Anyone who has been to a Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds gig knows that no band on earth put in the same level of emotional commitment to their music; (perhaps with the exception of his faux-misogyny project Grinderman) Ellis all crazy violin fury, Cave all emotional connection.

It's this latter point that made the movie for me. He talks about how he ensnares individual audience members and then demonstrates it with a live performance of Higgs Boson Blues that reduced his female 'victim' to tears.

Me too. It was all too much. All too emotionally engrossing.

And then there's the craft...the soundtrack (obviously) the direction and the cinematography are all sublime. A special shout out has to go for editor, Jonathan Amos.

And the cameos; Kylie, Ray Winstone and Blixa Bargeld.

I'm left with a tantalising question. Is this the greatest film ever made about music?

I think it has claims on that. Notwithstanding School of Rock.

Nick Cave. {I love you man.)

The only thing I've been introduced with when it comes to Nick Cave is his score for The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, which is pretty much my favorite film score ever. Such soothing, haunting, mesmerizing music. In many ways, this film is exactly like that. I always find it interesting when filmmakers play around with what a documentary really is, and this does just that. It's very melancholic in its tone, very introspective. It has fascinating examples of music being created and just how much Cave puts himself into his music, while still balancing it all and not coming off like an ego project. Even for non-fans this is recommended.

The movie had a raw feel about it, an honest look at the creative process from the perspective of Nick Cave. It opened up a line of thoughts (as an aspiring musician) that transformed, inspired, questioned and transcended my way of writing. The pace of the movie was far from slow, (though obviously nor was it fast paced), it almost reflected Cave's musical writing style, a kind of creeping epic crescendo. The movie didn't fail to completely grip my friend, who I'd rate highly in terms of his cinematic knowledge (working in the industry), despite the fact that he hasn't really been exposed to much of Cave's work.

The cinematography was beautiful, with extremely unique transitions that somehow flowed scene to scene. The soundtrack was obviously excellent, with some stirring performances, I'm fairly certain there were a few slightly teary eyes in the cinema. Nick Cave was simultaneously eccentric, enigmatic yet very down to earth and heartfelt. I did feel his heartbeat.