Jon Batiste experiences the divine in “American Symphony.” The biographical documentary film follows his career highs  —  composing a symphony for Carnegie Music Hall and earning 11 nominations at the 64th Annual Grammy Awards  —  and his wife Suleika Jaouad’s health lows  — receiving a bone marrow transplant and going through chemotherapy for leukemia. 22

The film’s focus is on encompassing the duality of human emotion and experiences, particularly when you love someone. Batiste and Jaouad seem to be one such duality, in that they’re shown to not only experience their own emotions but also feel the other’s deeply and simultaneously, a kind of mirrored understanding almost beyond empathy. 

Director Matthew Heineman never fails to deliver striking visuals, even in spaces known for their lack of beauty like hospitals. During a simple FaceTime call with Jaouad, Batiste swims in a pool lit by a warm pink light that he acutely describes as womb-like.

As the film progresses, following Batiste’s Grammy performance which Jaouad has to miss because of her treatment and bone marrow transplant, viewers are exposed to Batiste’s growing fame and its consequences for his psyche. When the shoe shiner at the airport asks if he is famous based on the camera following him and the congratulations of other travelers on his performance, it is evident that Batiste is reluctant to admit it. He explains in a voiceover that he never wanted to be famous and that, “you gotta protect that ambition from takin’ over. Gotta protect it from becoming the primary way you relate to yourself and to your loved ones.”

The film also does not hide the fact that the success was also taking a toll on Batiste’s mental health, showing closeups of his breathing exercises as well as phone calls with his therapist. One day, Batiste struggles to even get out of bed. The focus on the fragility of the human experience is beautifully shown in “American Symphony” — however, as I watched the film I noticed I began to put Batiste on a pedestal.

While “American Symphony” does not show Batiste as a flawless pillar of strength, it does seem to make him an infallible example of how we are meant to handle life. The lack of mistakes made in the documentary made me acutely aware of my own internal praise of the award-winning musician.

The climax of the documentary is Batiste’s one-night-only symphony at Carnegie Hall. As the band starts to move into the second song and Batiste tries to use the soundboard atop the piano, the power goes out, silencing the board. After a few moments of confusion, Batiste does what he does best — improvise — and lets his feelings and memories guide his fingers across the bare piano.

Heineman does not let this moment slip away; he cuts to moments throughout the film, film from Batiste’s past and his pure joy and deep sorrows and onto Jaouad and her highs and lows. Heineman seamlessly flows between a close-up of Batiste’s closed eyes and his memories.

It wasn’t until Batiste said, “nothing can stop the power of God” that I realized the power going out was God stripping everything away to create this sacred moment shared in that space for Batiste to fulfill his calling.

“American Symphony” ends in a great wail from all those hurt. Batiste brings in Indigenous performers to perform and share his final call in triumphant yells that joyously express this historical pain.

As he said in the beginning, “We play music to communicate unspoken pain and joy.”