the last few minutes of the 2025 Jeff Buckley documentary might be the most beautiful I've ever seen, and make me think deeply about how I want the products or things I make feel to others
in the last scene of the movie, his mom listens to a voicemail Jeff sent her before his untimely death at age 30. her reaction is extraordinary, particularly in the context of the previous film - the most compelling thing I've seen in a long time, because it feels like the truth captured on camera
by that point in the movie, it's clear that they had a complicated relationship. but it's also clear that in many ways she was an incredible mother to him, and that he understood and loved her deeply - the voice memo is so specific and caring.
in the clip she listens to the voice memo - it's been 28 years since he died. there's something in her affect - at other times in the movie, she feels at least mildly self-aware about being on camera, or jokes about different situations, but here, it's less so.
my notation of the moments is -
1:39:45 - scene starts / she plays recording
1:40:12 - recognition - she can 'hear' her son
1:40:34 - receiving love - it feels like an actual connection captured on camera
1:40:43 - no idea how to describe this emotion that she shows, it is truly extraordinary
1:41:06 - love captured on camera
I think there's a thing that's deeply valuable - truth captured on camera - and it's rare to find it so honestly distilled?
reminds me of the 'Finding Francis' episode of Nathan for you (+ accompanying Errol Morris article!)
newyorker.com/culture/cultur… - obviously very different, but had a similar feeling of 'truth captured on camera' (in a very strange, but compelling way) in flashes
whatever I make, I want it to respect, deeply, the heart of what the filmmakers captured in those two minutes