Shortly after they were inaugurated as Colorado’s poet laureate in 2023. Andrea Gibson explained in their Substack Things that Don’t Suck their response to their own question: “How can I accept a two year position when I cannot promise I will live two years?” Gibson wrote, “But no one can promise that, friends. I’ve been very public about my cancer journey not because I want people to know that I’m mortal, but because I so badly want others to know that they are. Knowing that I could die any day saved my life. Understanding, really understanding the brevity of this existence has given me more gratitude, awe, and joy than I thought would be possible for me in this lifetime. I wish that joy for everyone. (Minus the cancer.)”
Gibson’s response to that question becomes the thematic heart in Come See Me in the Good Light, directed and produced by Ryan White, a Sundance alumnus filmmaker. Exquisitely aligned with Gibson’s voice, this documentary portrait is generous and intimate in bringing us closer to the poet, the circumstances of incurable ovarian cancer and their partner and literary colleague Megan Falley. The film’s title refers to a poem written by Gibson, which includes the following verses, “In the good light, and in the lightning strike,/come become beside me/till I find your first silver hair in our tub./Till I find your last silver hair in our tub.” This is White’s fourth film at Sundance since 2014.
White beautifully balances the rhythms of the three pillars significant in Gibson’s story. The bond of love between Gibson and Falley is a joy to watch and the evidence of the trust they put in White and his production team is found in how far the couple opened their doors to allow viewers to glimpse the pure and intimate nature of their relationship, with just enough humor added to leaven the gravity of the medical circumstances. As Falley noted in the film, the couple live in “three-week cycles,” as they await the results of blood tests that track the spread of Gibson’s cancer. The third pillar is Gibson’s artistry and White gives well-deserved justice, by introducing audiences to Gibson’s literary voice, by offering numerous examples of their poetry.
Gibson is a familiar voice to many in the Intermountain West’s poetry slam and regional spoken-word performance scene. A winner of regional and national slam competitions, Gibson has published books, released albums with spoken word performance, conducted workshops and performed in public to large audiences. White captures the specific essence defining this genre of poetry. Poets such as Gibson write their work focused immediately on how the words sound out loud in rhythm and melody. The written verses might appear as a perfectly honest representation of the poet’s creative voice on paper or digital screen but when they are spoken, the poet immediately can recognize whether or not those same words actually sound as honest as they should be.
In an interview published elsewhere, Gibson explained how the process of performing the same poem over time will evolve in terms of what that poem now means to its creator. “The same way a poem means something different to different individuals, the poem means something different to me each time I read it, as I am forever growing, changing, and becoming,” They explained. “I have a hard rule in which I promise myself I won’t perform any poem I can’t in that moment resonate with. And that rule often ensures that I will read poems I’m not expecting to read each night, so to make sure to stay true.” Among the film’s highlights is a montage taken from one of Gibson’s performances, which captures the essence of their creative process and aesthetics. The documentary is one of the best representations of the art of perfomance poetry that has been produced in recent years.
For festival tickets and more information, see the Sundance website.