In her 2007 hit Love Song, Grammy winner Sara Bareilles pointedly sings "I'm not gonna write you a love song" yet that's in many ways exactly what she's done here for her legion of fans with Sara Bareilles: Good Grief, a feature documentary centered around the making oer her first album in seven years. 

I'll bet you can guess the title. 

For the oft-witty and infectious Bareilles, Good Grief feels almost jarringly transparent as she immerses us in the kinds of stories artists seldom share so openly with their fans and with their friends. From struggles with infertility to, yes, grief around the deaths of two dear friends to cancer, Bareilles surrounds herself here with people she knows, people she trusts, and people with whom she can manifest a creative environment both healing and entertaining. 

If you're a Bareilles fan, and I am, then Good Grief is pretty much a must-see. If you've never fancied yourself a Bareilles fan, weirdo, then there's nothing in Good Grief likely to change your mind. 

Written and directed by Josh Alexander, Good Grief plants us inside Bareilles's recording sessions at Hurley, New York's Dreamland Recording Studios, a converted church transformed in 1986 into a pretty magnificent setting for the kind of music of the heart and soul that unfolds here. 

Truthfully, I knew from its opening moments that Good Grief was going to be for me. It immerses us in everything I've come to love about Bareilles and her musical presence whether in the recording studio or onstage. It is to the credit of Bareilles, along with those with whom she surrounds herself, that Good Grief feels like a love song that is both cathartic and ridiculously infectious even when there's no music playing. Don't get me wrong. The tunes here find Bareilles dealing with uncomfortable, difficult emotions. Yet, she does so in such a refreshingly straightforward way that Good Grief never feels like we've stumbled into a recording session for The Cure.  

Bareilles has always felt like a sort of outlier in the world of infectious pop. There's no denying the bouncy spiritedness of songs like Brave, Love Song, and King of Anything, and yet Bareilles nearly always insists on showing us what's underneath that bounce whether it's her delightful video for I Choose You or her beautiful work on Waitress: The Musical or in any number of other tunes. In short, Good Grief may not make grief infectious but it sure does make it feel safer and more accessible. In a world that often asks us to grieve for three days before moving on with life, Bareilles makes it clear that life and love are journeys that demand more of us. 

Alexander, who also directed the Rev. Al Sharpton doc Loudmouth, mostly weaves an observational tapestry supplemented by archival footage and some terrific moments with Bareilles. Bareilles's husband, actor Joe Tippett, is here briefly but Good Grief is ultimately about the transformative power of the creative process to heal and to surround us with similarly spirited individuals. It's an absolute blast watching the likes of drummer Charley Drayton, bassist Solomon Dorsey, Misty Boyce, Butterfly Boucher, and Rob Moose add their own magic to Bareilles's songs. It's also a blast watching how sound engineer Jonathan Low figures out amplifying Bareilles's words and vocals. Watching these songs get constructed in a way that energizes them is an absolute exhilarating blast, and yet watching these artists connect, communicate, and deal with their own emotions is perhaps even more amazing. 

There may be those who claim that Good Grief is self-indulgent. Isn't there an inherent self-indulgence in creating a work of art and believing it has its place in the world? There's an absolute self-indulgence in proclaiming "I've created this and it's meaningful!"

Good Grief isn't self-indulgent. Good Grief is universal. Good Grief is relatable. Good Grief is that safe cinematic space for those who've struggled with grief and who need a place to put it. In essence, Bareilles is sharing not just her own tears but announcing that she'll cry with you. 

There's something beautiful that unfolds with Good Grief. By sharing her own stories, from infertility to grief to mental health, Bareilles crafts not just delicate and magical songs but also a place to lean into the fullness of the human experience with all its joys and sorrows, laughter and vulnerabilities. Good Grief creates this world where sorrow becomes sacred and where our village, whether it's work or play, truly matters and truly transforms. 

Hopefully it's obvious by now that I loved Sara Bareilles: Good Grief, a feature documentary currently in a limited arthouse release that deserves to be seen far and wide to remind us that we can love one another through the hard stuff and showing up matters. 

Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic