20,000 Days on Earth

"Something happens onstage," Cave says, "where you forget who you are and become someone else." As much as any documentary can, 20,000 Days on Earth allows us to bear witness to what goes on in that process.

The title refers to the fact that the day chronicled is ostensibly Cave's 20,000th alive, though the movie is so slowly paced that 20,000 days seems more like the running time.

Near the end of the movie, Cave talks about living in the 'shimmering space' where imagination and reality intersect. He's talking about words and music, but he could be talking about 20,000 Days on Earth.

An intelligent and revealing look at one of rock's last true iconoclasts.

You don't just meet and learn about Nick Cave in "20,000 Days," you feel him.

Singular exercise in self-indulgence, introspection and tongue-in-cheekiness by the solemn and magnetic Cave.

[The directors] give us a filmed curio cabinet of relics and recollections akin to the video for Johnny Cash's cover of "Hurt" if he had given us a tour while singing.

The film has a cinematic ambition to which it admirably lives up, not only in its bold structure and impressively moody cinematography, production, editing and sound design, but also in its plethora of imaginative and unconventional touches.

Nick Cave says he isn't interested in things that he understands. Yet this distillation of the man himself -- reflective and sensitive, and inventive -- tells you much about an artist's understanding of his art.

If you're not already a fan of Australian-born rocker Nick Cave, the hyper-stylized documentary 20,000 Days on Earth will make you one -- and increase your knowledge of and appreciation for the artistic process at work.

It's unlikely to appeal beyond Cave's core fan base -- but they are sure to love its sheer eccentricity.

Like his live performances and recorded works, the tortured dark figure and the aesthetics of the film bring together an intriguing three-dimensional mythological scrapbook.