I went to see this movie today. I think it's an HBO doc, so hopefully it will be on that service before too long. At the Alamo, they showed a previously unseen performance after the feature, which was expectedly great.
I really enjoyed it. I have no artistic ability, so people with unexplainable gifts like Buckley are magic to me. I can't get my head around it. He was an unbelievable talent and as charismatic as they come. He comes across as a guy who knew he had these tools but also couldn't comprehend what to do with them (like the bunny in "Swingers") or if he even wanted it. There were too many internal forces holding him back. The end of the story is tragic and the last voicemail to his mom broke me. The movie did the typical thing where everyone says "He was as happy as I've ever heard him" right before his death, but I choose to believe it and leave him in that place. Finally being able to stuff at least some of those skeletons in the closet and look at the world with the sun streaming in from a new day.
On a personal note, I took note that he seemed to be calling people out of the blue in the weeks before his death. About 4 years ago, I got a random call from my college roommate who I hadn't talked to in probably 10 years. We talked for a good hour. About a month later, he died at 39. When I was talking to some other college friends about it, they said that they had not heard from him in years, but he had called them recently. Like he was closing his accounts and saying goodbye. Maybe you just know.
And I write this with "Hallelujah" in my headphones, my heart breaking again.