Heaven Adores You

Director: Nickolas Dylan Rossi

I'm ashamed to admit that I came to first-time director Nickolas Dylan Rossi's Heaven Adores You knowing little about his subject; the legendary singer/songwriter Elliott Smith (1969-2003), whose tragic suicide still haunts friends and family today. I was familiar with the name during his brief, incandescent career but hadn't heard much of his music. Even today, his songs don't get much airplay, which is unfortunate; because after seeing Rossi's film, one may feel compelled to go out and buy all of Smith's music.

But as we see early in the film, Elliot had a strange, brief moment on the national and international stage when he appeared on the 1997 Oscar telecast to sing his best song nominee Miss Misery, which appeared in Gus Van Sant's Good Will Hunting. I honestly can't recall his performance; not because the song or Smith's performance weren't memorable but because the Oscar stage, with its movie star imperatives, was an inappropriate venue with which to fully appreciate Smith's talent.
We hear in a recorded interview what his thoughts were about performing in the telecast, which weren't necessarily negative. He seemed to bear an amused regard for the appearance and later mentions how his moment on the red carpet was overshadowed by Madonna, who happened to be near him in queue.

We hear Smith, in his own words, talk about how fame and popularity were all wrong for him. Based on what we see and hear in footage, recordings and interviews from family, friends, band-mates and former managers, nothing could be closer to the truth.

We see photos of a smiling, young Smith in his childhood in Dallas, Texas. A younger half-sister tells of his troubled relationship with his stepfather. But we hear in Smith's own words about the musical atmosphere at home and his mother's encouragement. A childhood friend, who competed with Smith for class-clown status, ultimately formed a band with him in their early teen-years. Listening to his friend, we glean some insights into Smith's precocious approach to songwriting.

A startling development in Smith's life was his move from Dallas to Portland in his early teens. The fact that the move was undertaken without his family speaks volumes about a home-life he is reluctant to talk about when a viewer broaches the subject.

In Rossi's film, where Smith happens to be geographically is as vital to his story as his music.

Hearing his music, which often betrays a wisp of melancholy, the rainy gloom of Portland seems an ideal place for Smith's music to burgeon and bloom. How Smith made his way in Portland as a young teen and able to finish high school is unclear; details are sketchy. But Rossi focuses on the city's emerging music scene, which was helped along by Seattle's monumental grunge movement.

Interviews with friends who became Smith's band-mates tell of Portland's vibrant, local musical community, which, like Austin, was sympathetic to itinerant musicians.
Smith and a few friends formed a band called Heatmiser; a loud punkish band that made a name for itself in the local music scene. But though the band garnered acclaim from Portland fans, Smith longed to move beyond the band's loud, raucous, musical sound. He found the songs he wrote for the band to be a modest approximation of what he intended them to be. Before long, Smith ventured out on his own. Record deals with small labels ultimately lead to signing with Dreamworks.

Smith's popularity in Portland reached a fever pitch. He caused a bit of an uproar when he decided to leave his adopted home for New York City. Though the motivations are vague, the film suggests the relocation was inspired by a personal need to move on and a failed relationship.

Musically, Smith also moved on; breaking ground with the solo releases; Roman Candle in 1994 and Either/Or in 1995. Both were received well by critics.
With Smith's Oscar appearance came a larger audience; one that expanded internationally.

Later we see footage of Smith in L.A.; his new home of choice. We learn that Smith hardly slowed down in his new digs. Members of Smith's band mention his prolific, musical output.

The subject of drug addiction begins to creep into the story. How it begins to take a toll on his life and career seems like a development we've seen in countless rock biographies. We hear from band-mates about erratic performances, Smith's acute paranoia and the declining standards of his shows. His former manager's painful recollection of the times includes an account of her quitting after Smith became hostile.

Near the end of the film, subtitles tell us of Smith's suicide; a brutal act accomplished by two knife-thrusts to his chest.

The film's upbeat epilogue, which contains footage of a musical celebration of Smith's music in 2013, reminds us of his musical legacy and the undiminished love and respect for his life and work.

Heaven Adores You is Rossi's first film as a director. The hypnotic imagery we see in the film betray the cinematographer's craft, which Rossi practiced extensively before making his own film.

Rossi lets Smith tell some of his own story in recorded interviews, which are complimented with terrific recollections and reminiscences. Though the film is his inaugural, directorial effort, his storytelling instincts are assured and robust.

If the film has a weakness, its in its inability to fill in vital details where needed. We can appreciate Rossi's efforts to focus on the music rather than tabloidy, narrative inessentials. But details such as Smith's move from Dallas to Portland are fuzzy, as are his relationships with women. We learn nothing about his relationship with Jennifer Chiba, who was with Smith at the time of his death.

But my quibbles are minor. Rossi communicates Elliott Smith's artistry beautifully. The uninitiated, like myself, are left wanting more. Seeing Heaven Adores You, it's sad to realize Smith's career didn't span even a decade. Thank goodness we have a film like Rossi's; one that reminds us of what modern music lost. But the film also inspires us to learn more and maybe more importantly; hear more.