Which documentary this year will deliver the emotional gut punch that ultimately sways Oscar voters? For me, Come See Me In The Good Light resonated deeply—less as a film I admired and more as one that challenged me to be a better person with whatever time I have on this planet. Andrea Gibson’s response to learning they have incurable cancer is nothing short of awe-inspiring. They confront the diagnosis with a grace and humor I can only hope I’d summon in similar circumstances. Yet in rooting for Andrea, the film inevitably forces you to confront the inescapable reality of mortality—an emotional weight that lingers long after the credits roll.

The filmmakers adopt a fly-on-the-wall, day-in-the-life approach, immersing viewers in Andrea’s relationship with Megan Falley, their celebrated career as a poet, and the unfolding reality of their illness. We witness the highs and the lows, the creative triumphs and the quiet devastations. What’s most striking is how completely open everyone is with the camera; it’s remarkable how seamlessly the filmmaking folds into their daily lives. Poetry and tenderness infuse even the smallest moments. A simple scene of Andrea and Megan sitting on the porch, watching a lone mourning dove, evolves into a profound meditation on what life will look like after Andrea is gone. Yet the film never lingers solely in sorrow. Megan’s offhand comment about the dilapidated tree holding the dove provides a flash of levity, a reminder that humor and grief often coexist. The ongoing mailbox saga becomes an unexpected but welcome running thread of comic relief.

In another year, I believe Come See Me In The Good Light would stand a genuine chance of winning the Oscar. It’s a lyrical, intimate portrait of someone approaching the end of their life—territory that isn’t unfamiliar in documentary filmmaking, but rarely rendered with this level of warmth and immediacy. However, Netflix’s The Perfect Neighbor has dominated the awards circuit, gaining momentum at nearly every stop. Chronicling the confrontation between an older white woman and her Black neighbors—and the devastating consequences that follow—it carries an urgent, socially charged resonance. The film is heartbreaking in a different register, operating as both documentation and indictment, and that immediacy may make it the odds-on favorite.

Still, while industry momentum appears to favor The Perfect Neighbor, my personal choice remains Come See Me In The Good Light—a film that moved me not just emotionally, but existentially.