Heartbreaking documentary a masterpiece
Film reveals there was more to troubled musical genius
“Life teaches you really how to live it if you can live long enough.” Those are among the last words in the documentary Amy, and come from 88- yearold Tony Bennett, whose long, storied life offers a bittersweet counterpoint to the short, tragic one of Amy Winehouse.
The London- born singer- songwriter died of alcohol poisoning on July 23, 2011, aged 27. Before that, she existed in many people’s minds as a punchline, a punching bag for late- night talk show hosts and comic commentators. Winehouse ( Wine House?) goes to dry out, releases hit song Rehab? It was almost too easy.
Director Asif Kapadia, whose excellent 2010 doc Senna introduced many unsuspecting-and-then- grateful viewers to the world of Formula One racing, works hard in this one to rescue Winehouse from her public image and present her as both a troubled young woman and a musical genius. She was, like every other celebrity you’ve never met, a real person.
The strategy is twofold. Amy mostly speaks for herself through her music, personal poetry that gave voice to but could not ultimately exorcise her demons. ( When she sings, the lyrics float over the screen like gossamer subtitles.) And those who knew her best discuss her talent and personality, often at odds with one another.
Chief among her associates is Nick Shymanksy, former manager and friend, just a few years older than Winehouse herself. We also hear from Juliette Ashby and Lauren Gilbert, childhood friends who once shared a flat with her. They and others provide not only candid comments about the price of fame, but equally candid home video, everything from Winehouse trying out new musical ideas to just goofing off with her pals.
Kapadia leads us through the
Life teaches you really how to live it if you can live long enough.
TONY BENNETT
early stages of Winehouse’s fame, her two studio albums ( 2003’ s Frank and 2006’ s Back to Black) and her increasingly troubled personal life, including a brief marriage, bouts of bulimia and drug use, and public appearances that saw her sometimes unwilling or unable to perform for her fans.
The tragedy of her life, ironically, becomes the film’s greatest triumph. Amy presents Winehouse in a way that makes her death seem at once inevitable and yet heartbreakingly avoidable. Viewers may feel the desire to reach out, take this fragile woman by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.
They may also emerge as newly minted fans of Winehouse’s work, which includes poignant personal ballads and powerful covers of old jazz standards.
“She was like a 65- year- old,” says producer Salaam Remi of the singer’s soul, as the film ratchets up images of Winehouse caught in an electrical storm of paparazzi flashbulbs. Yasiin Bey offers: “She didn’t know how to be this thing.”
But it’s the people closest to her — non- music business friends and family — who offer the clearest portrait of her — and, sometimes unwittingly, of themselves.
Winehouse’s father comes across as particularly odious, showing up at his daughter’s side in St. Lucia with his own camera crew to document what a caring dad he is. He is, not surprisingly, also one of the few people to give this astonishing, beautiful tribute anything less than a rave review.