“I came to realize through the course of making the film that Nick did want to deal with Arthur, he did see the film as a way of addressing that. But that wasn’t clear when we started. So the structure of the film actually reflects the process of the film, where we’re circling around something and getting closer and closer to it,” he explains.
But no matter how daunting the process was, “going to work and having no idea what I’m going to shoot that day was very liberating… When there’s no plan and no time, you’re forced to rely on your instincts in a way that you don’t otherwise. So this was my first real experience of letting go, of following the pain, of presiding over accidents — really doing that. And I felt because of the trauma he’d suffered, and because of the focus of life being about the navigation of that trauma, that these accidents would all end up talking to each other, that they would relate to each other and I would try and find a thread through them later.”
The other freeing aspect was that while the majority of the film was “made up on the fly,” the songs were already written, and so in advance, Dominik could come up with “a visual strategy for the songs.” These slightly more premeditated sections, which are mostly shot in the recording studio using clever lighting set-ups, circular tracks and silky handheld camera, were important to form the spine of a film that Dominik insists is “in service of the primary work of art, which is the record.” Again, that word “liberating” arises: “It’s a wonderful situation to be in as a director because we [the crew], the camera, we’re not setting the pace. You basically have to chase after things and try and catch them in your butterfly net, and if you don’t have your net poised, you miss that moment and it’s never going to happen again,” he says, adding emphatically, “I loved it.”
The film, after its Venice Film Festival premiere, was designated initially for a one-day-only release to coincide with the release of the album, but the fact that it’s back in theaters, however briefly, is testament to how well it was received. The question then arises: How involved did Cave feel in the success or failure of the film? And as Dominik got involved out of a desire to help, and the public, insofar as the film could build one, were warmly receptive, did it work? Did it help?
Dominik takes a deep breath. “Look, I’ll tell you something. Nick has flatly rejected the idea that there was anything cathartic about the process, but when the film came out on that day, the outpouring of feeling that was on social media and the fact that people really seemed to understand our intentions, that was the most surprising thing to us. We really thought we were going to get taken to task over exploiting or belittling — that was our great fear, that we’d be seen as somehow belittling a tragedy. But people actually saw what Nick was doing as an act of courage. I don’t think it occurred to either of us that he was being courageous, though looking at the movie it’s obvious that he is.
“But one thing that was really disturbing for him was the cliffs at the end [the closing shot is of the place where Arthur died]. He originally wanted me to cut it, but about a week later, I made him watch it again and he started to see the way I saw it, which was that it starts off with these grim images and then you are surprised by the sky and sea and this eternal, I guess spiritual image, that somehow contains the trauma.
“Because for me, when I first heard about the death, I imagined that — imagined where it happened, what it looked like and something about going to the actual place gives it some perspective. It enables you to get your arms around it a little bit. Nick has to drive past that cliff about four times a day; the cliff is between the studio and his house. And Suzy actually got a traffic ticket — she lost her license in fact — because she was unconsciously speeding up every time she drove by it. That’s the way that location was. But after the movie, it changed Nick’s feeling about it — he didn’t have the same abject horror driving past. So the film has had some value there.
“But this is the way it is for them: When the movie came out, there was a two-week period where I could feel the lightness, when I could feel just the relief of pain — there was not so much pain — a feeling that Arthur had been honored by the film, a feeling of warmth. But then two weeks after that, bang, Nick was hit by it again and it’s a horror. And I think his life is just going to be like that from now on.”
In this story, as throughout the film, Dominik displays an acutely honest sense of perspective, not just about the power of filmmaking, music, art, and even friendship, but also their limitations. It’s a clear-eyed attitude that was enhanced by the making of “One More Time With Feeling,” despite the care, love and faith that clearly went into it. “The other thing is, we were always laboring in the shadow of Arthur,” says Dominik. “Everything seems kind of, well, not so important in that context. You don’t really have time for your anxieties, and they pale before the larger trauma, and I guess there’s a real freedom to that, too. I mean, even if you make something bad, who gives a shit? Really, how important is it?”
And yet, of course, the thing is that “One More Time With Feeling” is important, the way any work of art that generates such empathy must be. The film connects us, even though it is to something extraordinarily sad. “Well,” Dominik muses, “There’s a lot of a love in trauma. You can see the love they have for each other, and they feel it so viscerally because of this tragedy. It’s a horrible thing, it’s impossible to make sense of it, but you try to make a story out of it, to contain it. Whether that process is futile or not, it’s the way we bring meaning to our lives.”