What makes Asif Kapadia’s documentary Amy so remarkable – and ultimately so devastating – is the vast number of video resources the filmmaker is able to pull from in order to construct this powerful portrait of pop singer Amy Winehouse. Drawing from home movies, videos of club dates, concert footage, interviews and personal digital files, the filmmaker is able to present the full arc of the singer’s life, adding a powerful sense of poignancy to the tragedy that unfolds. In a sense, this is a landmark documentary, a true product of the 21st century that provides the sort of intimate portrait that is only made possible by the proliferation of portable video we’re awash in and the willingness of the owners of this footage to share it as a tribute to the friend they miss so much.
What’s so striking about the film’s opening moments is how vivid, precocious and alive Winehouse is. Captured on a cellphone at a friend’s 14th birthday party, we see a girl on the cusp of womanhood, flirting and alive in the spotlight, already having outgrown the humble surroundings that could never hold her. Her wide, bright green eyes are striking, captivating and clear, a sight made all more tragic by all we know that’s to come. Layering interviews and anecdotes over audition tapes, concert recordings and personal footage, Kapadia is able to construct a fly-on-the-wall look at the singer’s career, the kind of complete picture that’s rarely seen. Guy Mott, president of Sony Music’s UK division explains why he took a chance on the unknown songwriter as we see Winehouse effortlessly strum the guitar and sing for him in his office, only to hear her friend and roommate Juliette Ashby follow this up with a memory of how elated they were at her quick success and how bright life seemed for both of them at the time.
Kapadia uses this strategy throughout, juxtaposing Winehouse’s professional and personal lives as recalled by those who knew her best. It’s an effective approach as we ultimately see her adrift in both, unable to find refuge onstage or off. The film’s primary focus is from 2003 to 2011, the period during which she goes from being an opinionated teen brimming with talent to her brief moment in the international spotlight to her tragic, lonely death. The cast of characters that tell her tale run the gamut from the honorable to the vile. Her first manager Nick Shymansky, friend Tyler James and bodyguard Andrew Morris, among others, do their best to protect the young woman who’s been left in their charge, yet know they’re helpless to save her. At the other end of the spectrum is Winehouse’s self-destructive husband Blake Fielder-Civil and her father Mitch, both of whom shamelessly leeched off her and helped he towards an early grave. That the former would even agree to be interviewed for the film and the latter would help as well, only to ultimately withdraw his support of the project, shows how out of touch both are in relation to their role in the singer’s death.
If anything, Kapadia shows that a perfect storm of toxic elements formed around Winehouse, cutting off many of her avenues of escape. The footage of her behind the microphone, especially during a captivating sequence that sees her recording with her idol Tony Bennett, underscores once more not simply the tragedy in regards to the loss of her talent but that a sensitive soul was tragically cut down before it could fully mature. Captivating as well as infuriating, Amy is a film that allows us to see the talented, troubled young woman behind the sensationalist media image to devastating effect. This vivid chronicle of Winehouse’s quest for success and her undoing due to the fame she never sought, proves to be one of the best documentaries in recent years.
This article appears in Jul 9-15, 2015.
