\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div> \t\t\t\t\tNoah Kahan (center) and Nick Sweeney (right) speak onstage at the premiere of Noah Kahan: Out of Body<\/em> at SXSW 2026.<\/span><\/p>\n \t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCris DeWitt\/SXSW Conference & Festivals<\/cite><\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n \n\tThough Kahan is known for his skill in transmuting tough emotional subjects into anthemic verses and hooks, he found that making this film demanded a different degree of honesty.<\/p>\n \t\tEditor\u2019s picks<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n \n\t\u201cIt\u2019s harder,\u201d he says. \u201c[Writing songs,] you always have the shield of the creative process, or your own interpretation of the story you\u2019ve made, to hide behind. And what you see is what you get in the documentary. It\u2019s incredibly therapeutic to watch, but also really difficult to watch, because you have to revisit pain.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tHe points to one strikingly vulnerable scene where he\u2019s backstage with wife-to-be Brenna Nolan before headlining a festival. \u201cAnd I\u2019m just in misery about music and about creativity \u2026 One thing that I\u2019ve thought about a lot as I\u2019ve watched the documentary is how consumed I was by the fears I had. I could see the tunnel vision.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tSweeney was already a fan of Kahan\u2019s lyrical approach when he became involved in the film project around the end of 2023. He quotes a line from Kahan\u2019s 2022 song \u201cNew Perspective\u201d: \u201cThe intersection got a Target\/And they\u2019re calling it downtown.\u201d \u201cThat line always resonated with me,\u201d Sweeney says. \u201cIt\u2019s very detailed, the things he sings about. It\u2019s like an establishing shot in a film, a musical form of that.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tAs filming went on, he was surprised by how few restrictions Kahan put on what the cameras could show. \u201cI was like, \u2018Is this guy really going to let me do that?\u2019\u201d Sweeney recalls. \u201cAnd nothing was off limits. Like, absolutely nothing. I was always waiting for him to push back and be like, \u2018Yeah, let\u2019s not do that.\u2019 And he never did.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tWorking with a small crew that included two of Kahan\u2019s high school classmates who are now filmmakers, Sweeney captured candid, unmediated footage of the Kahan family discussing the songs he\u2019s written about his parents\u2019 divorce and other sensitive topics. \u201cThere\u2019s discomfort, naturally,\u201d Kahan admits. \u201cIt\u2019s weird to have a documentary crew in your house. I would have been concerned if they were like, \u2018Hell yeah, let\u2019s do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \t\tRelated Content<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n \n\tHis fraught relationship with his father ended up yielding many of the film\u2019s most compelling scenes. \u201cI\u2019ve broached it in my songwriting before, but the conversations with my dad and about my dad were revelatory for me,\u201d Kahan says. \u201cIt\u2019s so much easier to tuck away \u2014 you know, I see my dad and I\u2019ll be frustrated by our interaction, and then I\u2019ll go away on tour. But I knew that the reflections I was having with my dad were going to be seen by other people, and seen by my dad. That was really hard.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tHe adds: \u201cIn those moments you\u2019re like, \u2018Is this worth it? Is it worth it for me to have this uncomfortable day with my mom or my dad be filmed?\u2019\u201d Ultimately, he says, \u201cYou have to just trust that the process is going to heal you in some way that makes that discomfort worth it.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tIn one particularly moving scene, Kahan and his father perform Cat Stevens\u2019 1970 classic \u201cFather and Son\u201d together at home on acoustic guitars, bringing the song\u2019s themes of intergenerational conflict and underlying love to the fore. \u201cOh, my God, I cried while I was filming,\u201d Sweeney says. \u201cThere\u2019s all this stuff that\u2019s been building throughout the whole thing. And then they just play this song. It was really powerful\u2026 There\u2019s a moment where it goes out of focus because I\u2019m wiping tears.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cNick was so moved by it,\u201d Kahan adds with a smile. \u201cAnd my dad and I were like, \u2018All right, let\u2019s go get some lunch.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n \t\t\t\t\t\t \t\t\t\t\tKahan watches the film at its premiere.<\/span><\/p>\n \t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tAaron Rogosin\/SXSW Conference & Festivals<\/cite><\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n \n\tMore seriously, he says, those on-camera conversations with his family did some important emotional work. \u201cEven though those problems still exist and nothing\u2019s ever really solved in your family \u2014 there\u2019s always going to be new things \u2014 I feel like it gave me closure on some hard things. And it allowed me the freedom to write about these things.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tAfter filming wrapped about one year ago, in the spring of 2025, Sweeney undertook the task of editing down all the footage they\u2019d gathered, which also included tons of gorgeous nature shots and interviews with everyday people from the small-town Vermont region where Kahan grew up. In the end, they whittled those parts down to \u201conly the truly essential stuff,\u201d Sweeney says. \u201cI could make a whole \u2018nother film, literally, like a slow cinema<\/a> meditation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
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