Dreams Lie Deeper was not just a sensitive piece of work, beautifully shot, directed and edited, interspersed with melancholy shots of West Coast scenery. It was a unifying experience, a chance for the rest of the nation to grieve and remember.
We'd seen the mine's exterior countless times on the news. But with one of our national icons standing in front of it; an outsider reduced almost to tears, the image took on new meaning.
So, too, did Dobbyn's songs, Beside You, Loyal, It Dawned On Me, performed for the families in intimate settings: homes, the pub, outside in that rugged landscape.
The singer made the point that he couldn't inhabit their grief but he did his best to understand it.
Rather than tinkling away far removed in an Auckland studio he did the emotional groundwork, meeting the people, hearing stories. There is Nan Dixon, who coped with the loss of her son Alan by baking a lot; Melissa Byrne and her little boy Sam, who will never know his father yet shares his name.
"We must press on," Dobbyn is told by Bernie Monk, who consoles himself by remembering his son Michael's body is close by.
Dreams didn't dwell on the anger, the delays, the finger-pointing, even though it was painfully evident this was filmed before Solid Energy announced it was abandoning any possible recovery.
Instead, Dobbyn focused on giving the people comfort and hope.
Finally, the performance itself, held in Wellington's Michael Fowler Centre and attended by the families. A huge amount of work must have gone into composing, arranging and rehearsing This Love, a rousing, hymn-like piece of music, with its central theme of hope and peace.
As the 160-strong Orpheus Choir and Wellington Young Voices swelled behind Dobbyn's promise that "this love of ours will not abandon you", the tears streaming down the faces of the audience said it all.
- TimeOut