Come See Me in the Good Light ★★★1/2
- 2filmcritics
- 2 hours ago
- 5 min read
Availability: Still showing in some theaters as part of Oscar nominee screenings. Available online on AppleTV only. (In April 2025, Apple TV+ announced it had bought exclusive worldwide distribution rights after the Sundance Film Festival, with limited theatrical release last November to qualify for the Oscars.) See JustWatch here for all availability. No indication as of this date of more online or purchase options.
I Just Want To Have a Body
Andrea Gibson learned in 2023 that their 2021 ovarian cancer had metastasized. The Colorado poet laureate was given up to 2 years to live. Comedian Tig Notaro and another long-time friend asked them (Gibson used the pronouns they/them/their) and their spouse Megan Falley to consider a documentary about Andrea’s illness and impending death.
Andrea Gibson, left, and Megan Falley, the couple at the heart of the documentary
about Andrea's last year of treatment for terminal cancer. Their ability to laugh when confronted with Andrea's cancer breaks the ice, so to speak, of death.
The resulting 2026 Oscar-nominated film is not simply the chronicling of an end-of-life. It is also a love story of 2 very different people, both poets, confronting the meaning of death and of life, while sharing and enduring that experience with each other.
Sad, yes. Depressing, no.
Seasoned director Ryan White imbues his film with humor, relayed by raucous laughter of the doomed poet and their loved ones. The comments are so raunchy that some viewers will squirm, breaking the ice, so to speak, of death.
A love story of 2 very different people, both poets, confronting the meaning of death and of life.
As a “spoken word artist,” Andrea candidly and openheartedly projects their emotions, adding intensity and play to the narrative. The couple laughs over the running family joke that Megan is the more erudite of the 2 (Andrea chides her for using “anomaly”) and that Andrea, who has working-class roots, relies for their poetry on the same 5 words. Megan adds, “at the very least,” another running joke.
Spouse Megan describes Andrea (photo left) as "the gay James Dean." Andrea bemoans the loss of hair from chemo, which will make them look less like that icon.
Andrea Gibson was on the road regularly prior to the diagnosis of terminal cancer, playing sold-out shows around the country; Andrea’s life was energized by, and to some extent defined by, those on-stage performances. Megan describes her partner as an icon, “the gay James Dean.” After the diagnosis, Andrea cancels their shows, wanting to remain with their spouse in the couple’s handsome home in the Colorado woods. “I was wasting a lot of seconds,” they say. And in the final scene, “I wish I had a million more of these.”
While focusing on a year of cancer treatment, White lets Andrea recount their history and status—a bullied, confused teenager and, though short, a heckuva basketball player. Megan in turn describes the couple’s 9-year relationship, including her insistence—over Andrea’s objections—of staying with them after the diagnosis, and that she, Megan, was the one who proposed.
Megan is “girly” and curvaceous, with body image issues she poignantly describes. “I just want to have a body,” Andrea responds. “I don’t care what it looks like.” Andrea is lean and describes themself as “boyish.”
Megan’s interiority and reserve cause a ripple in the relationship, as Andrea tells Megan, during the former’s critique of the latter’s memoir (the couple edits each other’s work), that they need her to be more emotional, while wondering if her lack of affect signifies repression. But expressive emoting is not Megan, who says she always has “the tiniest hope,” and who radiates an aura of quiet optimism, rather than an anxious state of dread of the future.
Cancer, they say, “makes me feel genderless…eternal. I just feel like me.”
In mid-2024, Andrea rallies enough—after losing their voice to chemo and then regaining it—to give a last show in Denver, an electric moment that elicits a cascade of applause (the documentary equivalent of the classic melodrama denouement) that had 2 Film Critics in tears. By that time, the feisty poet has become a softer side of themself. They no longer care if “someone mis-pronouns me.” Cancer, they say, “makes me feel genderless…eternal. I just feel like me.” It may be melodrama, but it’s well done. That the 2 poets are a loving, happy gay couple and grounded in a tight, helpful, lesbian community mitigates the tendency towards treacle.
Meg (right) is with Andrea at all their chemo treatments, having talked Andrea out of breaking up the relationship once Andrea got her diagnosis of terminal cancer.
The Big C is always there, nonetheless. Its presence is communicated in cold numbers, in tests every 3 weeks during the year of filming. The numbers go up and down, from a 10 near the end (“that’s a good one! I have 3 weeks!” Andrea exclaims to Meg) to 21 for the last one—“it’s everywhere.”
Any documentary—any film, any memoir, any reality TV—is highly edited; this one is no exception. White does not show Andrea in a wheelchair, though it’s alluded to in one trip to chemo; or the couple having a real dispute; or Andrea when ill from chemo; or Andrea without their voice. The couple is presented without concerns for jobs, money, health care costs, or other family needs; they have no kids, only puppies.
The film steers away from spirituality, from tendering lessons in dying.
The “good light” of the title (the written words are in neon above their bed) would seem to refer to the good light that comes with deep understanding—a kind of high, even irrational, optimism, a rejection of negativity, a joy in the present, in the seconds one has. The film steers away from spirituality, from tendering lessons in dying, from suggesting there are good and bad ways to experience death. It lets us in on a life lived, and ended, well.
Andrea Gibson, shown “in the good light,” died after the year of 2024 shooting wrapped, on July 14, 2025.
She says: I thought about other love stories with one of the pair dying. The 1970 film “Love Story” based on Erich Segal’s novel. Or even “Brian’s Song,” the 1971 TV movie about the Chicago Bears’ buddies Gayle Sayers and Brian Piccolo. Much as I recall those tear-jerkers with fondness, “Come See Me…” is a much more sophisticated and ultimately a more satisfying film.
He says: The love story, while real enough, is less important than the portrait of a person with courage, strength, and dignity.
Date: 2025
Director: Ryan White
Starring: Andrea Gibson, Megan Falley, Tig Notaro (as themselves)
Country: United States
Language: English
Runtime: 104 minutes
Oscar Nominees: 2026 Best Documentary Feature
Other Awards: 38 wins and 38 other nominations, including Festival Favorite Award at the January 2025 Sundance Film Festival, which Gibson attended
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