This Time, it’s Different: the New Aussie Music Film that ‘Gets’ Cancer
Low-fi gem ‘Three Chords and the Truth’ has a message for anyone with trauma to heal - even if you’ve never picked up a guitar.
good.film
a year ago
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Why should I see Three Chords and the Truth?
Balancing the creative expression of songwriting with the reality of terminal illness, this heartfelt Aussie indie explores the beauty, not just the pain.
What social causes does the film explore?
Arts & Culture, Health & Wellness, Poverty & Inequality
You may not have heard of genre-defying folk-rock musician Jackie Marshall, but you’ll definitely know the bloke that Melbourne’s The Age once compared her to: “the next female Bob Dylan.”
As an independent songwriter, performer and recording artist, Jackie’s released a string of critically acclaimed LPs, collaborated with international composers and been shortlisted for the Australian Music Prize. But that’s not the only reason she makes her screen acting debut in Three Chords and the Truth.
A survivor of several cancer diagnoses, Jackie received widespread support from Australia’s music community after her label announced in 2016 that she was undergoing treatment for breast cancer. The resulting mastectomy surgery left her scarred, but with a new story to tell.
Enter first-time feature filmmaker Claire Pasvolsky, who’d been in theatre and media for over two decades, but was waiting for the perfect inspiration to bring her first movie script - still a rough concept - to life. The idea? A ‘rebellious music-driven drama’ about a woman living with cancer who teaches a young girl to write songs. Just minutes after meeting Jackie on a documentary shoot, Pasvolsky knew she had her lead.
“When I met Jackie, I was struck by her presence, musicianship and highly original song-writing style. There was just something about her. I had a very instinctual feeling that casting Jackie in a role based on her personal story would work.” ~ Claire Pasvolsky
What is Three Chords and the Truth about?
Marshall plays Angie Cowper, an Aussie musician who never quite ‘made it’. You could say, her potential was slowly drowned by booze and self-sabotage - she’s uncompromising, and she calls a spade a friggin’ shovel. At a pub gig, with the locals barely listening, she signs off at the mic with “Merry fucking Christmas!” (before Rodney the fed-up pub owner kicks her off stage).
There’s been pain in her past, but she’s a survivor: the early shot of Angie’s mastectomy scars tell us so. In treatment for her third bout of cancer, this time she admits, “it feels different.” Cancer has spread to her bones; the diagnosis is terminal. But Angie keeps that under wraps, brushing off her sound engineer Vaughan’s concern as her hands ache and cramp up on the guitar. She’s hell bent on recording her last album - the one she wants to be remembered by.
Enter Ruby (Maisie Owens), a teen fleeing a turbulent home life that turned darker after her mother dies from suicide. With no real plan except getting away from her Dad’s anger, Ruby stumbles upon an unlocked car for somewhere to sleep and hide for the night. Turns out the car is Angie’s - and we get our first glimpse of her compassion when, the next night, Angie leaves the car unlocked with a blanket, food and a note inside - “rest well little one”. Cue an unlikely bond as Ruby is soon invited into Angie's home, and her musical world.
“I set out to make a beautiful and moving film that explored the question: What could happen if a homeless young girl is shown kindness by a stranger at a pivotal time in her life?” ~ Claire Pasvolsky
How does Three Chords and the Truth explore artistry and terminal illness?
From the first glimpse of Angie’s bedroom, we sense her fall from grace. She lives alone, surrounded by the clutter of pills and pain medicine, and a million music posters. One of her pieces of sheet music has a scrawled note in Sharpie: ‘Be Strong You Idiot’. She might be down, but she’s not out.
Lying in an MRI machine, Angie has a string of vivid memories: winning music awards, going on TV shows and reaching the showbiz peak. But are they memories, or visions - imagined but never made real? The line blurs when we see industry pros like Richard Wilkins (in a quick cameo role) giving Angie’s eulogy. Then, time seems to reverse as he reports that she’s been given ‘only months to live… Let’s hope she finishes her album in time.’
By putting Angie’s past and present in contrast, director Claire Pasvolsky makes a strong comment: the music biz (and by extension, any field of artistic expression) isn’t a meritocracy. At home at the piano, we quickly see Angie’s natural talent, but it’s just as clear that she doesn’t fit the mould. When a Top 40 hit relies on just the right manufactured look, sound & feel, all the talent in the world won’t help if the industry decides you don’t fit.
But faced with terminal cancer, Angie’s not driven by ‘making it’ anymore. Arguably, she never was. When Angie gets kicked off stage, she goes straight home and finishes her set - not for any audience, but for herself. Her determination as a musician isn’t about the fame, but the need to express herself; to passionately share her story in the most natural way she knows.
“The truth is, it is so hard to be an artist. When I first met Jackie, I was like, why doesn’t everybody know about this woman? She is unbelievable. How is this right that we don’t know who our greatest artists are in this country?” ~ Claire Pasvolsky
What does Three Chords and the Truth have to say about music and healing trauma?
Ruby’s on eggshells when she’s first invited into Angie’s place, and we get it. Running away from a bottled-up father and still reeling from the shock and trauma of her Mum’s suicide, she’s got none of her next steps figured out. She doesn’t open up, but Angie can see her distress, so she talks to her in the best language she knows - music.
‘Are you famous?’ Ruby asks her. ‘I was a little bit famous, a long time ago’, Angie admits… ‘but not anymore’. It’s not self-pity or false modesty from Angie - it’s just real. Her attitude seems to be, I’m staring down the barrel of terminal cancer - so let’s cut the crap.
Maybe that’s partly why she’s so open to taking Ruby under her wing, and sharing some musical tips. They’re under the guise of tutorials, but for Angie it’s more like leaving some knowledge behind… a parting legacy.
As they open up and their lives start to intertwine, the chemistry between Angie and Ruby is really natural and warm. Before long, their bond has become symbiotic: Ruby leans on Angie to rebuild herself and feel safe, and Angie has embraced Ruby as her muse. But what about ‘the truth’? As their connection deepens, it becomes harder and harder for Angie to reveal to Ruby that her time is running out.
What are critics saying about Three Chords and the Truth?
“At its heart, this is a film about human connection… Three Chords and the Truth is anchored in strength, resilience and the simple power of music to turn the tide to hope and healing.” - Leanne de Souza
“An emotive, rebellious Aussie indie, inspired by the real-life story of singer-songwriter Jackie Marshall, including a dynamo acting performance from the musician herself.” - Sydney Film Festival
“This story of an unlikely friendship and bond is deep and touching… visually, this is a stunning-looking film, and the musical moments sound great. ” - Peter Walkden
“Three Chords and the Truth is a tender and heartfelt movie that should stay in the hearts of moviegoers long after they leave the cinema… it highlights that low budget does not mean low quality.” - Mark Morellini, City Hub
Fully on board, or disagree big time? We’d love to hear your take. Leave a review to share your thoughts with the good.film community!
So what’s the takeaway from Three Chords and the Truth?
With its deep focus cinematography and beautiful, resonant score, Three Chords is a warm joy to watch & listen to, despite its heavy themes. As Angie, Jackie Marshall’s guitar & vocal skills give us some bangers too; there’s a very Aussie tone to her performance, real Missy Higgins vibes. If singers with a Nashville twang annoy you, this is the music flick for you!
Director Claire Pasvolsky packs a lot into a quick runtime. Visually, reflections are a big motif: Angie strumming her guitar reflected in glass panels or in the polished piano, while Christmas lights bounce off windscreens and pub windows. These visual choices echo Angie’s mindset, as she reflects on her past, her regrets and her artistic self-sabotage.
At times, the indie nature of Three Chords does show - Ruby’s Dad doesn’t get much backstory, and Angie’s career flashbacks are super brief. They’re probably areas that could’ve been explored more with a bigger budget. But what the film might lack in Hollywood polish, it makes up for by bringing a strong sense of authenticity to a tough topic.
By casting performers with real, lived experience - from cancer survivors like Jackie, to characters like Vaughan, who’s been Jackie’s real-life sound engineer for over 20 years - these difficult themes play out with a gentle warmth that feels unique. Three Chords isn’t a documentary, but it nearly could be; there’s a genuineness here that you don’t always get with multimillion dollar studio movies. As one audience member told Claire Pasvolsky: “I lost my Mum [to cancer] at 17. Nobody does that right on screen. You guys did it.”
“My aim with THREE CHORDS was to make a brutally truthful film about the pain of life set against the beauty of creativity - and at the same time, provide audiences with a sense of hope and possibility.” ~ Claire Pasvolsky
