It was with some trepidation I went to see this documentary about the life of singer, songwriter Amy Winehouse. I was pretty sure it would sadden me, I hadn’t expected to be angered to the extent I was. It’s difficult to take anything we are told at face value these days; which, is actually probably a good thing.

The film was directed by Asif Kapadia a well-respected film-maker whose previous credits include Senna, a documentary focussing on the life of another star, Brazilian motor-racing champion Ayrton Senna. He received many accolades for this film and as such has been heralded for his honest representations.

If we are to take the film at face value then it leaves us with one very sad conclusion. That the intense, unrelenting and unashamed scrutiny by the media, and the public, of this woman’s life; ultimately contributed to her untimely death.

The documentary carefully stitches together sound and visual clips to chart her assent to the greatest highest of musical accolades and notoriety, the trips and falls that peppered her career, and eventually, her demise.

We see a young girl full of life, with one of the most beautiful and original vocal talents of our time. We see a gifted songwriter who transformed with a guitar in hand or when she opened her mouth to sing. We see a person who used alcohol as a crutch, who fell for the wrong person, who found it hard to say no but screamed it so loud physically that it killed her.

The day Amy Winehouse died I was sat in a hostel in Vietnam, it was the day after the terrorist attacks in Norway had claimed 77 lives. I remember feeling so sad about her death and scared about the attacks, heightened by being very far away from home. But what I also remember was being so angry with the reporting of her death. The presenters (I believe on BBC world service but I’m not 100% sure) focussed on her infamous drinking sessions, her tempestuous marriage and repeatedly made reference to the irony of ‘Rehab’. They threw in brief references to the fact she had won 6 Grammy’s. This to me reflected how she had been viewed for much of her public life. The car-crash Amy Winehouse was media fodder, the brilliant musician was a side-show.

The film portrays various individuals in different shades and how they positively or negatively influenced Amy. But even if all of what is presented is accurate, no one person can be blamed.  The record companies, the tour promoters, her management, her ex-husband, her boyfriends, her friends and her family all had direct influence, some for the better, some for the worse and those individuals have to live with how they acted. It’s been reported Mitch Winehouse is suing the film makers. In the film he’s portrayed as having the power to intervene and not taking it and as taking advantage of Amy’s fame, bringing an unwelcome camera crew with him to visit her when she was recovering in St. Lucia.

The film points to a greater power at play in this dreadfully tragedy. That was the public’s desire to scrutinise and infiltrate every personal detail of this woman’s life, particularly when it was falling apart. One has to wonder why we care so much to see someone else fail? Does it make us feel better about our own lives?

The gutter press are even more responsible (whom it is implied recorded her calls during a stint in rehab and perhaps beyond) and the paparazzi. Making money from this type of harassment is disgusting. People are literally dying as a result. Whilst Amy’s death was more of an indirect consequence of their action than say Princess Diana, it is ultimately the same, sickening behaviour that is causing such hurt and grief.en will changes be made to stop this harassment? Be it legislative or otherwise. Why can’t artists, performers, sports stars or anyone else be entitled to privacy? I understand, as I’m sure they all do, that by becoming very successful you should have to expect a certain level of interest. My question is why this can’t be limited to official public appearances. Stalking people’s houses and scurrying after ever move they make is just obsessive, selfish and bizarre.

Amy had a hell of a lot of demons and certainly suffered from addictions, but I feel she would have had a better chance of survival if she had been given time to heal herself, away from public glare.

If the sustained demand for images of her, and information about her, had not existed or been promoted and facilitated, she may still be here today, maybe even still recording her individual-style of music and allowing us to hear it, giving it to us as a gift.

So many young talents have died from a combination of inner torment, not being able to handle stardom and often times the excesses they indulged in to bring them peace or happiness.  What role we, the public, have had in those can be debated. Having watched this documentary though, in the case of Amy Winehouse, we are left with only one conclusion, we have gone too far and we can’t keep treating human beings this way.

I found out Amy wasn’t keen on Dido, that she adored the Jazz greats, that she felt the press would ‘make a mug of her’, that she was funny, smart, very articulate, a gifted lyricist(but we already knew that) and desperately loyal to her family. She didn’t die from a drug overdose; she was clean of drugs when she died. Her heart had stopped from the impact of drinking.

How sad I was to hear her say ‘I would give it all back if I could walk down the street again…..with no hassle’.

It’s a challenging film, that should be seen. It will make you think about your media consumption and make your heartbreak for what happened this real person…whether you were a fan or not.