Amy Winehouse fans weren’t exactly delighted by the news that there would be a biopic of her life. Following the singer’s tragic death in 2011 at the age of 27, her devotees have grown used to witnessing all manner of tacky and exploitative cash grabs executed in her name, from a posthumous album of questionable quality to a mercifully canceled hologram tour. , the biographical drama directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson, didn’t do much to refute fears that the entire project was a historical whitewash with more interest in selling records than commemorating Winehouse herself.
The film is, of course, bad, a slapdash and overtly polished summary of her short life that seems entirely uninterested in both her creative process and difficulties with addiction. When it’s not outright changing history, is timidly avoiding the extensively documented truth of Winehouse’s troubles, to the point where you can’t help but wonder if the filmmakers even knew who Winehouse was. More pointedly, you can’t avoid the question of why this film exists at all when there’s that did it all better nine years earlier.
Asif Kapadia’s is everything isn’t: compassionate, artfully crafted, intimate, and truly interested in the life, death, and troubles of its central subject. Taking advantage of some truly beautiful archival footage of Winehouse’s childhood and early years in the music industry, focuses on her as friends, family, and admirers offer their memories via voiceover. A lot of feel.
