Before Sundance officially cracked open this year, those of us who volunteer were ushered into a whisper-level pre-festival screening. A special showing. A quiet gathering in the dark. The kind that makes you feel like the universe nudged you in early on purpose.
The film was Come See Me In the Good Light, directed with exquisite tenderness by Ryan White, anchored by Andrea Gibson and their life partner, Megan Falley.
From the very first moments, something inside my ribcage shifted. I held my breath through the entire film. Even while simultaneously laughing and crying. When the lights came up, I turned to my sister—still stunned and breathless—and said,
“This is the most transformative documentary I’ve ever experienced. A gift. Ten stars. This film will change people.”
A few days later, at the official Sundance premiere, the room rose in a standing ovation that felt like a wave with no shoreline. The entire film team was there, filling the theatre with a kind of love and presence usually reserved for sacred spaces. It was electric and gentle all at once—poetry in the shape of applause. Andrea sharing a poem right off the of their head. Pure light and magic.
Then they came to my green room.
All of them.
Andrea. Meg. Ryan. Tig. The whole magnificent constellation that shaped this film.
I tried to be my usual Sundance faerie self, the one who’s seen it all for 25 years and floats around like it’s no big deal. But let’s be honest:
I was NOT cool.
Not for one second.
I was a happy, messy, overjoyed fangirl puddle.
I hugged everyone twice.
I spoke too many feelings and used way too many words.
I told them the truth:
“I’ve been at Sundance for 25 years. I have seen hundreds of first screenings. This film changed the shape of my heart. You need to know that.
You also need to believe me when I tell you, right now, that it will also save lives and win all the awards. Thank you for sharing every bit of both of you with all of us.”
They were kind. Gentle. Human. We laughed. We shared. We breathed the same gratitude-filled air.
And then—my favorite Sundance moment of all—
they all came back.
Later in the week, the whole team quietly returned to my theatre to sneak into another film together. Not their own. Someone else’s. Not for applause. Not for press. Not for spotlight.
Just to be people again.
To sit in the dark with strangers.
To watch a movie like regular festival-goers, shoulder-to-shoulder, no fanfare required.
And I helped them do it.
I tucked them into that anonymity.
Found them a path in the chaos.
Gave them the dignity of being unseen, while knowing—
they were deeply, reverently SEEN.
Not by cameras.
Not by crowds.
But by community.
By Sundance itself, which always saves a quiet corner for the artists who give us so much of their hearts.
That—right there—is the heartbeat and essence of Come See Me In The Good Light.
The sacred act of being witnessed.
The tenderness of being ordinary.
The courage of showing up exactly as you are.
And the miracle of having someone love you through it.
Ryan White’s direction allows Andrea’s language to land where it always lands—inside you—and Meg’s love to hold the shape of the whole film. It is a portrait of devotion, mortality, artistry, partnership, and the radical act of telling the truth beautifully.
If you do nothing else this week, please:
watch this film on Apple TV.
Let it remind you that love is brave, art is necessary, and being human together is still the point.
Ten stars.
Every single one glowing.
xo,
nakedjen
NAKEDJEN 