‘Amy’ steps behind the scenes of tragedy
The short, sad life of Amy Winehouse is compellingly told in a new documentary that sidesteps sensationalism and dime-store psychologizing and lets archival footage do much of the work. “Amy” has an air of restraint that makes it all the more wrenching to witness the downfall of this explosively talented singer who died at 27 after years of substance abuse.
The film opens with a home movie of Winehouse in her early teens, belting “Happy Birthday” to a friend. Even then, her voice was exceptionally powerful. The footage is offered minus embellishment, which it doesn’t need — this sort of amateur video recurs throughout “Amy” and gives a strong sense of someone who loved being in front of a camera, but in a sweet way.
Director Asif Kapadia (“Senna,” another good documentary) uses a roughly chronological approach, which underlines the rapid rise-and-fall nature of the story. Winehouse grew up in London in a Jewish family that included jazz musicians, and her parents divorced early on. Her former manager asserts that she was always strong-minded and never received much discipline.
As a youngster, Winehouse wrote poetry, and at 14, bought a guitar and began composing. The jazz influence in her work was quickly noticed.
In 2003, she released an album, “Frank,” lauded by British critics. Her remarkable ascendancy continued in 2006 with “Back to Black,” a huge seller that won five Grammys.
Before this triumph, the singer had entered a drug rehab program, and her performance on the awards show was transmitted by satellite from London. At this point, her image — with extravagant makeup, tattoos and huge pile of hair — was everywhere.
But troubling signs were increasing. Barely into her teens, Winehouse took antidepressants, suffered from bulimia and indulged in soft drugs. This changed when she met Blake Fielder-Civil, to whom she was married for a time, and graduated to crack and heroin. The paparazzi and tabloid reporters allowed her no peace. More rehab attempts followed.
As her fame grew, her father re-entered her life, and Mitch Winehouse, does not come off well here. Though Winehouse’s family eventually withdrew its support of the film, we hear commentary from both her parents. Other participants are childhood friends and musician pals, including Yasiin Bey (formerly Mos Def ) and Tony Bennett, who compares her to the greatest female jazz vocalists.
Among the most poignant sequences are footage of Winehouse in the studio (Abbey Road, actually) with Bennett, of whom she was clearly in awe. In spite of her flubs, he gently and affectionately encourages her, with very impressive results.
The footage of that performance, and others, and her amiability (on her better days) is what really gets to you. “Amy” is a film about the waste of a great talent, and you dread the inevitable ending.