In the new Netflix documentary, “Noah Kahan: Out of Body,” we see the 29-year-old singer-songwriter at his most vulnerable yet. The film, directed by Nick Sweeney, details his exponential rise to fame with the release of the two-time platinum album “Stick Season.” In a touching, intimate combination of interviews and concert film, viewers get an inside look at the stories behind the music and watch Kahan return to his roots in the upper valley of Vermont. Despite the film’s structure occasionally feeling disorganized, this chaos serves as a fitting reflection for the emotional whiplash of Kahan’s meteoric rise to fame.
One of the film’s strengths is its contrast of Kahan’s life in the spotlight with the snow-covered quiet of Vermont. In several scenes, Kahan appears content on a walk through the woods with his dogs, an image that resembles “Stick Season’s” album cover. Viewers are introduced to early life through home videos of his childhood, interviews with locals and his dad singing on the front porch.
Stepping even further away from his public persona, the portrayal of Kahan’s relationship with his father is one of the most moving elements of the film. An athlete and engineer, his father shares little in common with Kahan and seems largely unfazed by his son’s stardom. Their relationship, much like the town of Strafford, appears relatively untouched by fame, even when Kahan describes a tragic accident that left his father with long-term memory issues. This pain adds to Kahan’s relatability and makes him, unlike traditional pop stars, a focus of the film.
True to the name, “Out of Body” goes beyond Kahan as a musician and digs deeper into his personal values and how his background shaped his career and art, like in a scene of him walking around his childhood home, where Kahan points out the first inklings of the album written in marker on a table. He discusses how close he was to giving up in 2020 when he returned home after the pandemic, almost deleting an early version of the song that changed his career. As it turns out, it was this forced return that helped him find his voice. Going back home “woke him creatively.”
From there, audiences witness his rise to fame, which Kahan ironically describes as a “slow burn.” Instead of shotgunning beers, sitting by a campfire and forging steel with his older brother, we see Kahan speak on late night shows, perform with superstars and attend the Grammys as a nominee for Best New Artist. It can feel a bit like emotional whiplash, as the film rapidly shifts between Kahan’s old life and his new one after the success of his viral album.
While seemingly enjoying the success, Kahan seems out of place in his new reality. While discomfort with fame may at first come off as a cliche trope, the interviews analyze the root of this paradox: Kahan feels suffocated by small-town life, yet simultaneously yearns for its simplicity.
Kahan also opens up about his mental health issues throughout the documentary, shining a light on an issue often stigmatized. It is these moments where the film succeeds the most, showing Kahan at his most vulnerable.
He speaks candidly about his struggles with depression, anxiety and body dysmorphia — something that has fueled his work outside of writing songs. His honest conversation about his behind-the-scenes health issues, as well as his passion for the non-profit he created in support of mental health initiatives, paints Kahan as more than just another pop singer. He emerges instead as a mouthpiece for people dealing with these issues around the world.
Although the documentary feels occasionally disorganized and haphazard, this chaos serves as a mirror of Kahan’s last few years. Just like in his music, this documentary shows Kahan being human — chaos, pain, failure and all.
4.5/5
