Back to Black

Being a period piece (yes, the 00s are long enough ago that to render them the same as the present feels wrong) about a musician, a singer, you wouldn't expect any contemporary music in the soundtrack. Contemporaneous, sure, but that's it. Which makes it a strange decision to feature an original composition by the film's composers over the end credits, the only one in the film, at a time we're meant to be reflecting on the story we just saw, of the life she led. While the song is called "For Amy", it's still distracting to hear Cave's distinctive, mournful voice punching into my personal reflections on the tragedy of Amy's short life and professional career. However, that makes it a fitting capper on a film which often reads as just that: ostensibly about her, but in such a way that emphasizes the impact of others on her life rather than her own presence.

I don't know much about Winehouse myself, so I can't compare this depiction to reality. But the Amy of the film relies quite heavily on the two men in her life to make or drive her decisions, undercutting the fiery, self-assured woman we meet pre-fame. It's not that the fire goes out: Marisa Abela very ably carries it throughout the film, even in Winehouse's more down moments. But she's so quick to direct her passions into everything, giving 110% in a way that comes off as blisteringly naive, that what she's fighting for becomes less about her own needs. It's how an early assertion by her father Mitch (Eddie Marsan) that "She's fine" prevents her from seeking rehab, despite an episode which found her passed out on the floor with a gash on her forehead. It's what drives her to first try crack after Blake (Jack O’Connell) leaves her, knowing that although her alcohol abuse turned physical abuse drove them apart, his enjoyment of hard drugs while she stayed clean was the initial wedge.

Not that we ever get a strong sense of anything happening in the film. It doesn't feel like a feature length montage like some recent biopics, racing through their scenes in an attempt to condense an entire life into a tiny box. Back to Black takes its time, letting its moments play out in a way that feels satisfying despite beginning before her first record deal and continuing up until shortly before her death. But it fails to use those moments to build anything. Despite the time spent establishing her relationships, many important moments within them come out of left field, problems which the movie acts like we should be aware of despite never being discussed or displayed. It's as if we're expected to come in with knowledge of specific moments from Amy's life, so we can nod knowingly and take it as Amy's perspective on something we saw through the tabloids. For example, one of the most confusing scenes is when her performance of "(There Is) No Greater Love" is intercut with her running down a spiral staircase, Blake in pursuit, whose face is eventually revealed to be covered in fresh cuts. When he catches up to her, outside and down the road sitting on a curb, he comforts her as she laments not knowing what's going on with her. Where is this scene set? When is it set? How he get hurt? Was it her? Is this their dynamic now that they're back together? What makes her think something's wrong with her? How did we get here?

On display in that bit is director Sam Taylor-Johnson's complete disinterest in time. We have no idea when anything is situated relative to each other. The production design speaks to the overall tie period, but I have no idea how long she's with Blake before she talks about marrying him. It's the scene after he first spends the night, making it feel a mere 24 hours later. The same thing happens when they get back together: immediately after they reunite, they fly to Miami for a quickie marriage. Between her seeing him for the first time in a "while" and them being on the alter, a mere two and a half minutes of screen time passes, in which he says two sentences to her. She gets into a spat with her label after releasing her debut and takes a break, returning after...who knows how long to record eponymous Back to Black. Not that we spend any time on that, either. It's almost a footnote, mentioned in a radio interview, and mostly ignored until the Grammy awards roll around. The movie leaves you unmoored at all moments, as if you're Billy Pilgrim.

Of course, this means the pacing is a nightmare, but not in the most obvious way. Instead, you feel like maybe you're the crazy one, having forgotten plot details so quickly. When in reality, the movie forgot to establish itself.

What's even stranger is how it wants to redefine Amy Winehouse while leaning hard into all the common narratives about her. We open and close on the same line, uttered by Marisa Abela: "I want people to hear my voice and forget their troubles for five minutes." So you'd think the movie spent a bunch of time on her music and process and performance. There are a handful of live performances in the film, sure. But with the exception of one short scene at the beginning (a pretty good one, if I'm being honest) and an even shorter one at the end, her music just sort of appears, as if out of thin air. Instead, we focus on the alcoholism and the eventual drug use and Blake and her contentious relationship with the paparazzi. So even as the music is there, it tends to fade into the background of her life. Which is a fine way to construct a biopic (although probably best serving a prolific artist), but it directly frustrates movie's stated thesis.

That being said, it does seem like it's trying to rehabilitate her image, shunting all the blame off her. So many of her strong stances are shown to be right, or else her fundamental strength and righteousness is corrupted by others she trusts who don't have her best interests at heart. She's not in it for the money, she's fiercely loyal and optimistic to a fault, and believes "drugs are for mugs". There's maybe a slight undercurrent of her arrogance getting her in trouble, such as flying off the handle at the label's suggestion of handing off guitar playing duties, before not performing with a guitar for the rest of the movie. But even that is framed in terms of her relationship to her father, as its the one time we see her ignore his advice directly.

Through all of this, the purpose of the biopic gets lost, even going so far as to nearly argue against its own existence. It doesn't have anything clear to say, nor does it seek to highlight her complications as a human. Without a fresh or interesting perspective, you may as well just make a documentary, such as 2015's Amy, which won Best Documentary Feature at the Oscars, amongst a boatload of other awards. That leaves little space for a narrative feature such as this, which succeeds at doing little more than reminding people of Amy's mere existence.