The Irish Mail on Sunday

THE SORDID DEATH OF A POP DIVA

When Whitney Houston was found dead in a hotel bath she left behind an unsolved mystery: who gave her the drugs that killed her – and who turned off the taps and slipped out of her flooded room? With the help of those closest to her, a startling new docum

-

It was Grammys weekend 2012 and the mood in the Beverly Hilton was electric. The swanky Los Angeles hotel was buzzing ahead of the music industry’s biggest awards ceremony and an exclusive party hosted by Clive Davis, the legendary American executive who was the guiding hand behind some of the world’s biggest stars.

Among them had been Whitney Houston, the singer with a once-in-a-generation voice, a perfect vibrato and a range stretching from alto to soprano. By then of course, despite record sales in excess of 200 million, she was as famous for her descent into drug-addled despair as she was for her worldwide No 1 hits I Will Always Love You and One Moment In Time.

But this, she had told friends, was a big night for her. She was well again, excited about her new music, a new acting role and her return to physical fitness. She couldn’t wait to show off her metamorpho­sis at Davis’s hot ticket party. As comebacks go, it could hardly have been bigger.

Houston’s publicist Lynne Volkman recalls what happened next. ‘I was about to get in the shower, when I got a call to come to the fourth floor immediatel­y. On my way there I was thinking what was the worst case scenario? I rushed out of the elevator and said to security, “How is she?” And they said, “She’s dead.”’

It was around 4pm on February 11, 2012. Inside the now taped-off Suite 434, Houston had been found, alone, floating face down in a bath full of scalding water. Drug parapherna­lia littered the room. The cause of death would be given as drowning and the ‘effects of atheroscle­rotic heart disease and cocaine use’. She was 48 years old.

It was a sordid end and also a mysterious one, leaving a series of unanswered questions. Who had supplied the drugs that killed her? Why had Houston, with apparently so much to live for, taken them? Could someone have saved her?

In fact, the only certainty at the time was that the woman who just a few years previously had starred opposite Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard and thrilled with a string of hits including Saving All My Love For You and The Greatest Love of All, was gone.

Now, six years later film-maker Kevin Macdonald thinks he’s found some — though not all — of the answers. Whitney, directed by the Oscar-winning Scotsman, is a documentar­y that explores how a tall, shy, skinny teenager from New Jersey became the greatest pop diva of her day and then threw it all away as drugs ravaged not just her body but her voice too.

Over the course of some 70 interviews with those closest to Houston — including her mother, gospel singer Cissy Houston, and her cousin, Dionne Warwick — Macdonald uncovered a tangle of family secrets. Together they explain how Houston was never given the stability and strength she needed to sustain her career when it went stratosphe­ric. Her late father, John, who had become her manager, was skimming her funds. Her brothers Gary and Michael, both of whom were on her payroll, were chronic drug abusers who helped accelerate her own addictions. Her mother had had an affair with the minister of the family church. And, most shocking of all, her cousin was sexually abusing her.

Where Macdonald has not succeeded is in explaining her death. It’s not a failing of his work, more a reflection of the chaotic nature of her passing.

‘I had four different people who I all caught out lying about what had happened at the end of Whitney’s life,’ the director reveals. ‘But I don’t think she was murdered, I have no evidence for that.’

The closest he comes to suggesting foul play is in the testimony of Houston’s assistant Mary Jones, who told him the floor of the bathroom where the star was found was sopping wet: ‘Somebody was in the room with her, had given her these drugs, and had found her in the bath, drowned, switched off the taps and left the room,’ she says. She cannot however, identify them. Even if Whitney wasn’t murdered, she was definitely failed. One by one Macdonald tracks down all the protagonis­ts in the story of Houston’s life and death, and asks how they let her down.

He began with her closest family: her brothers. He reveals: ‘Gary and Michael grew up at the height of the crack and cocaine boom in New York. When Michael was 12 or 13, he was a mule taking drugs across the bridge from New Jersey to Manhattan on his bicycle — because the police wouldn’t stop kids. He’d earn $200 and thought, “Wow, this is the life.” Gary’s first drug experience was aged ten — he was given heroin by his cousin on a park bench. He passed out and his cousin just abandoned him there.’

As Gary confesses in the film: ‘Yeah, we took a lot of drugs every day, s*** that usually kills…’

The boys’ struggles continued into adulthood and they admit to bringing drugs into their sister’s world — and going out to buy drugs for her when she was on tour.

It’s also Gary who — eventually — provides the stunning allegation at the heart of the documentar­y, revealing

to Macdonald that he was sexually abused in childhood. The abuser, he claims, was his cousin Dee Dee Warwick, sister of Dionne. And Dee Dee, he alleges, also abused Whitney.

‘Most people in the family thought Dee Dee had the best voice, better than Dionne,’ says Macdonald of the singer, who had her own drugs problems and who died in 2008, aged 66. ‘But she never got the break. Dionne got lucky and met Bacharach and David. And Dee Dee was gay. That was known at the time; the family would tell you it wasn’t, but it was.’

A black woman, from a church background, in the Sixties, who was gay — one can only imagine the pressures on Dee Dee, says Macdonald, who adds. ‘You can only feel a degree of pity for her as well.’

Money, along with sexual abuse, also played a key role in tearing the family apart. Bette Sussman, Houston’s long standing pianist, was by her side in 1995 when the singer’s financial empire began to teeter. ‘We finished up a tour in Hawaii and she fired all these people in her company, and then put family members in place,’ remembers Sussman. ‘From my standpoint, it was crazy: you’re firing all the people who are trying to lead you in the right direction. But Whitney didn’t want to be told what she could and could not do.’

Rickey Minor, Houston’s musical director, explains the fallout from this naive decision.

‘Whitney was carrying all these people — her payroll was a huge responsibi­lity. She basically took care of some 300 people, put their kids through school. She put my son through school and enabled me to buy a house. That’s a huge responsibi­lity for a corporatio­n, let alone a single woman. If she doesn’t work, no one eats.’

The burden of managing her business without proper, impartial advisers saw Houston hire her father as her manager, only to discover later that he was stealing from her. As Houston’s brother Gary reveals: ‘She found out about all the money

he stole and cut him off.’ John Houston retaliated with a lawsuit demanding $100million from his daughter. It was thrown out of court, one of the many catastroph­es and betrayals that destroyed her equilibriu­m.

If the singer of the world’s biggest power ballads thought she might find an emotional shield from her family through love and marriage, she was mistaken. Bobby Brown is the ‘bad boy’ singer to whom she said ‘I do’ in 1992 only to have their marriage dogged by accusation­s of sexual assault and infidelity. They divorced in 2007.

In front of Macdonald’s cameras, Brown claims, surreally, that drugs had ‘nothing to do with this story’. This despite very public low-points such as an infamous 2002 primetime interview in which the seemingly intoxicate­d singer proclaimed that ‘crack is whack’. The documentar­y itself also includes troubling home-movie footage of a clearly high couple, patently failing their daughter Bobbi Kristina and setting her on the downward spiral to her own drug-related death. Yet it does not hold Brown solely responsibl­e.

Minor says: ‘I never saw Bobby verbally or physically abuse [Whitney], but he was

EVEN IF WHITNEY WASN’T MURDERED, THE SINGER WAS DEFINITELY FAILED

a strong personalit­y. And for any man, especially a black man, it’s emasculati­ng to have the woman be the breadwinne­r, and people calling you Mr Houston rather than Mr Brown.’

Sussman agrees saying: ‘I don’t blame Whitney’s drug addiction and death on him. I blame her for allowing him to bring her down.’

Dramatic and entertaini­ng, Whitney reminds viewers of the glories of Houston’s voice and the film is a poignant and powerful portrait of an artist who helped define an era. When Whitney premiered in Cannes in May, the Houston family was expected to make a statement about the abuse revelation­s — but at time of writing nothing has appeared.

In the end, all concerned with its making share the hope of Lynne Volkman: that the film will, if not excuse or exonerate the behaviour that killed her, at least go some way to explaining it and help rehabilita­te the memory of Whitney Houston.

‘I hope after watching this, people are going to have more empathy toward Whitney,’ says her former publicist, ‘and not think she was this foolish girl who squandered her life. I hope they know there was something going on in her, behind everything, that explains it all.’

Whitney is released on July 6.

 ??  ?? CLOSE: With Bobbi Brown and daughter Bobbi Kristina MY GIRL: With Bobbi Kristina in 2011 and, right, feeling unwell in 2005
CLOSE: With Bobbi Brown and daughter Bobbi Kristina MY GIRL: With Bobbi Kristina in 2011 and, right, feeling unwell in 2005
 ??  ?? CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Whitney with her mother Cissy in 1985
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Whitney with her mother Cissy in 1985

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Ireland