Nick Cave has long embodied gothic melodrama in rock and roll. The Australian icon spent more than four decades drawing inspiration from the eerie, the shadowed, and the specter of mortality. He first led the art-punk edge of The Birthday Party and later guided the legendary Bad Seeds, a duo that defined a vast era of musical storytelling. After the death of his son Arthur in 2015, grief shifted from a muse to a quiet, consuming force. This ache appears as a clear thread in the 2019 album Ghosteen, where solace and sorrow mingle, and the mood leans toward a hopeful vision of collective resilience amid a tense world.
That sense of uneasy hope carried into the tense days following the announcement of another personal loss: the death of Cave’s son Jethro at 31. The exact circumstances remain private, including questions about a recent incarceration for a serious incident involving his mother. It raises questions about whether this tragedy will affect Cave’s upcoming European performances. A notable show remains scheduled for the Primavera Sound festival in Barcelona on June 4. In the midst of this uncertainty, cinemas across the globe will host the premiere of the documentary It’s True I Knew, introducing audiences to Cave and Ellis as they explore their creative partnership and perform Ghosten and Carnage together.
The film emerges from the period of enforced hiatus during the pandemic when touring was impossible and direct crowd contact was cut off. The filmmakers enlisted Australian director Andrew Dominik, following his own intimate portrait of Cave in What I So Knew Was to Be True, part of a diptych with Once Again With Emotion that began in 2016. Although Originally intended to chronicle Skeleton Tree, the project turned into a candid meditation on grief and endurance rather than a simple music chronicle. Dominik notes that the earlier film showed Cave at the nadir of loss, while the new work captures a man who has not erased pain but has found a way to move beside it with purpose and insight.
The documentary reveals transformative moments, starting with Cave in his studio shaping sculptures that portray Satan’s life, a practice he says brings order and meaning to life. It also delves into his leadership of the Red Hand Files website, a direct line to fans that often becomes a space for consoling others who suffer loss. The film captures how this outlet and the stage performances interplay, enriching the sense of cathartic momentum rather than dwelling in melancholy alone. Compared with the intimate, sorrowful tone of Once More Time With Feeling, this new work offers a grander, ship-like stage setting under towering lights that react to every sound.
Across the entire documentary, the partnership between Cave and Ellis comes into sharp relief: Cave remains a composed, roguish presence on stage, while Ellis appears as a mystical force guiding the sonic textures. Together, they embody a rare longevity where voices continuously evolve, even amid deep sorrow. Cave himself remarks that the duo experiences both moments of difficulty and opportunities for transcendence whenever they work together.
Cave’s art carries a cinematic sensibility that invites repeated viewings, a trend reflected by the wave of documentaries focused on his life over the past decade. The score work with Ellis stands out as a defining element of his filmography, including collaborations on Dominik’s acclaimed projects and various other film soundtracks. Their creative bond extends beyond professional collaboration, with Dominik highlighting a long-standing personal connection that predates recent tragedies. This relationship, built over decades, adds layers of texture to the films and underscores a shared language forged in art and loss.