by Jon Partridge
Having grown up in the UK and being familiar with the nature of the media and paparazzi there, it was no surprise how they swarmed once the decline of Amy Winehouse began. There has always been a sensationalist culture there, a readiness to tear down someone as quickly as they can be built up. Over a few years her off-stage notoriety eclipsed her musical talents: spells in and out of rehab, a tragic cycle which she couldn’t escape, ultimately ending in her death at the age of 27. With his documentary Amy, director Asif Kapadia (Senna) sought to reclaim her image from the front page of the tabloids and give a personal insight into the person she was, as well as the tragedy that befell her as fame took its toll on a very flawed individual.
Amy opens with a rendition of “Happy Birthday” from a old home video, the future songstress putting a flourish on the final few notes. The response from her friends show they know there is something special about her voice. Much of the film follows a similar format, drawing from recordings made during Amy’s youth and chronicling her life, friendships, and gradual foray into the music industry. These are insights, not just into her past; they also show the contrasting sides to her personality, one outgoing and confident in her talent and the other shying away from the limelight.
It’s a smart opener; your mind always wanders back to that young girl, showing off her raw talent, oblivious to her fate a mere 13 years later. Kapadia wisely avoids incorporating “talking head” interviews, instead taking the contributions of friends, family, and fellow artists and laying them over footage so the focus is never taken away from her. Another clever device is while recounting portions of her life and then showing her musical pieces inspired by that period, lyrics onscreen hit home with more heft than before due to the context.
Much time is spent looking at her rise and success: how her voice and personality made a splash in the industry, media, and public eye. At times she is stunned by the level of success and interest she has achieved. Then comes the pressure to meet industry demands, tour, and craft new material while playing the old over and over again. Long standing issues with bulimia and her family crop back up. Alcohol and substance abuse works its way into her life and as such the film, growing in prominence like a cancer, mirrors how it took over and ultimately ended Winehouse’s life. It’s deftly handled, never feeling exploitative, just sad and inevitable.
The documentary doesn’t heap blame on one person, instead seeking to lay out the circumstances that led to such a tragic end. But it does show the flaws of people in her life in addition to her own. Much of the exploitation and negative influence in her life stem from her father Mitch Winehouse and first husband, Blake Fielder. They and others feed into a destructive cycle. Few people around her do anything to truly change her course, instead only serving to add more fuel to the fire. The film pulls few punches when it comes to showing the tabloids and their vulture-like tendencies. Their hounding of Amy and the stark images they capture make for some of the more harrowing moments in the film. But comedians and the public alike are shown not being averse to tearing down someone only months earlier they revered.
Where Amy excels is in showing a few special moments that lay bare her character, passion, and talent. One revealing clip shows her at a small concert, friends and family in attendance as she awaits the announcement from her childhood idol Tony Bennett that she won the Grammy for Record of the Year. It is such a pure moment and as such is heartbreaking, as it is depicted amidst so much sadness. Later during the recording of a duet we again see Bennett, a tender soul, this time coaxing a performance out of her after it becomes clear she is a nervous wreck. It’s a beautiful moment but also a encapsulation of her problems, that need for nurturing and how there was no figure capable of routinely delivering that in her life. These are the moments that stay with you and show how fame sits uneasily on some shoulders.
It shows off her weaknesses and strengths in equal measure, but above all else is a clear reminder that genuine talent should be cherished not squeezed, used, and taken for granted. The film does not shy away at all from her tragic decline, but through her journey we see her in a more sympathetic light. She’s simply a young girl with an incredible talent, unable to handle her personal demons and the pressures of fame.
THE PACKAGEThe Blu-ray transfer is good but a large portion of the film uses old video tape footage as well as occasionally footage shot on cell phones. As such the quality varies throughout, but the picture overall is good.
Extras include a digital copy and film trailers as well as 17 deleted scenes. There is also footage of three previously unseen musical performances and interviews with a number of people close to Winehouse: Mos Def, Mark Ronson, Salaam Remi, and Jools Holland. The Making of Amy feels like a token addition, running around 2 minutes, but most significant is a insightful commentary from director Asif Kapadia, editor Chris King, and producer James Gay-Rees which provides insight into how the film was put together. Overall, an impressive amount of extras complement the feature.
THE BOTTOM LINEAmy is a film that in some ways does more for Amy Winehouse than most of the people who surrounded her during her career seemed to. It shows her flaws and paints a very tragic tale of how fame placed an incredible burden on a already fragile soul. It reframes her, moving her away from the trainwreck persona she was left with, reminding us what a musical talent she was and most heartbreakingly what she could have become. A poignant and affecting piece of film-making.
Amy is available on Blu-ray from December 1st.
