AMY – The Review

Just scant weeks after the release of the superb biography of American musical icon Brian Wilson, LOVE AND MERCY, comes another feature film profile of another song-writing and performing talent. There are a couple of big, big differences. MERCY contains no actual footage of Wilson (except during the closing credits), with actors (two actually playing the subject) following a script in, more or a less, a “docu-drama”, usually a cable TV movie staple. This new film is almost all composed of archival, home video, and news footage, so it safely lands in the documentary cinema categories. And while Wilson continues to perform and create, the focus of the later film is most unfortunately silenced. Many may only recall her as the cartoonish-headliner in a squalid tabloid circus. Oh, but she was so much more. Celebrated film maker Asif Kapidia (SENNA) has succeeded in reminding as all of the remarkable songstress, taken far too soon: the incomparable Ms. Winehouse, AMY.

Kapidia eschews many standard “personality” docs by forgoing the usual “talking heads” clichés (the interview subjects are heard and identified as they narrate and comment on the proceedings) and, besides some aerial establishing shots, the “look-a-like’ reinactments. He utilizes an amazing access to personal video footage lent by family and close friends along with uncensored television news feeds and concert highlights. Of course, it helps that Amy was born just as the affordable camcorder home movie video boom really took hold in the 1980’s. However, Kapidia has chosen to begin this story in 2003, as the fresh out of school Ms. Winehouse, has begun to make a name for herself as a polished pub performer. We first see her bundled up, almost covered in a blanket, in the backseat of her first manager Nicky’s car as they trek to another gig (Amy seems more like a sweet tween snoozing on her way to a vacation spot). Not long into the film, do we get a glimpse of her childhood. Father Mitch admits to his neglect, as he pursued affairs as his wife  Janis had to contend with an increasingly rebellious little girl. Eventually little Amy would be bounced out of school for getting a piercing (horrors!). Then we’re back on the road with wonderful performances at small venues as Amy gains renown for that soulful voice and her songwriting skills (Kapidia provides the lyrics, artfully superimposed off-center of the screen).

Included are several intimate looks at Amy as a “flatmate” from several old girlfriends (you can hear the wistful sadness in their voices), but soon the men in her life dominate her career and personal path. Two are part of an ongoing controversy surrounding the film. There’s Blake Fielder-Civil, the all-constant beau, nearly always caught on camera in the middle of a high-spirited howl. He ended up being an inspiration for many of Amy’s heart-rending tunes while, the film implies, escorting her down a dark road. And then there’s papa Mitch, the film’s most vocal critic. As her star rose, he suddenly emerges from her childhood fog to guide her, while seeming to hitch a ride on the “fame train” (we see unedited pieces from his very own TV reality show). Many times he seems more concerned with getting her in the recording studio or on stage, then with getting her help for her inner demons. But he’s not alone, as when one of Amy’s girlfriends quotes a former manager  saying that “many professionals, like doctors and lawyers are able to function while using heroin”. Unbelievable.

As the film’s marches towards its inevitable conclusion, we’re treated to some brief glimmers of hope. There’s her glorious Grammy victories, offset when a friend relates that Amy quietly confided in her, soon after the cheers died down, that “it would be more fun if still using”. We see her back in the studio with her idol Tony Bennett for his duet album, but Amy can’t enjoy it for fear that her voice is not perfect for her hero. The saddest sequence may be her “non-performance” at a massive outdoor concert in Belgrade. She tries to curl up and hide in a corner, almost like a tiny baby mouse caught in the bright kitchen lights, as the audience almost screams for her head on a platter. And then there’s the paparazzi, eager to chronicle her downward spiral, enveloping her in a flashbulb frenzy as she tries to live. This happens just as many TV comics made her the butt of their late night monologues (as one friend says, “When does it become okay to make fun of a person with serious problems?”). By then, most audiences may feel very protective of her, almost wishing we could reach into the screen and whisk her away from the maelstrom of madness. This may be the greatest triumph of this superb cinematic portrait from Mr. Kapidia. He’s lifted Winehouse from the parody of reckless over-indulgence (perhaps stemming from her biggest single, the anthem of “flipping the bird” defiance, “Rehab”) and reminds the world of what a truly unique talent we lost far, far too soon. And, perhaps best of all, he’s given us a look at the human being still terribly missed by all her knew her, their (and now everyone’s) AMY.

5 Out of 5 Stars

AMY opens everywhere and screens exclusively in the St. Louis area at Landmark’s Tivoli Theatre and Plaza Frontenac Cinemas