Back to Black – Amy Winehouse’s autobiographical lyrics tell the story as effectively as any dialogue (cinemas from Friday 12 April)

Biopics of musical performers have chequered histories in my book. Elvis encapsulated the essence of Presley’s performance but over-sanitised his life. One Love captured the rhythm and soul of Bob Marley’s music but not the man. Miles Ahead went wild with a plot about a fictional version of Miles Davis that the excellent music couldn’t redeem.

A personal highlight was the documentary Whitney: Can I Be Me, a devastating portrayal of Houston’s live and the negative impact of her inner circle. And Maestro’s depiction of Leonard Bernstein for once rejoiced in the full wonder and weirdness of an artist’s life, loves, compositions and musicality.

Back to Black takes on the tragically short life of Amy Winehouse (vividly played by Marisa Abela). Screenwriter Matt Greenhalgh and director Sam Taylor-Johnson make no attempt to assign blame to any one person or circumstance that may have led to her death. There’s no moralising. Instead, they lay out the many internal and external pressures that Winehouse faced, and allow the audience to process the swelling tragedy and leave the cinema mulling over the chances that the singer/songwriter’s life could have taken a different path if her demons had been tackled.

While her father’s influence (warmly captured by Eddie Marsan) comes to the fore later in the film (including reference to his initial reluctance to address her addictions with rehab), it’s the musical and fashion inspiration of another family figure, her grandmother (the brilliant Lesley Manville), that brings a warmth to proceedings.

Through a remarkable performance by Abela, we see a Winehouse who was forthright and exhibited an in-your-face attitude to everyone she encountered – particularly the men who dominated the record business – whether they were there to help her or not. The influence of jazz over her vocals and song writing gives the film a real soul.

One scene superbly imagines her first meeting with ‘bad boy’ Blake (Jack O'Connell who is nearly back in Skins territory) in a pub: he’d become her on/off boyfriend and husband. The paparazzi fascination with recording her distressed everyday movements is both clear and overwhelming. As is her out-of-control relationship with alcohol, soft drugs and Class A substances.

The artist turned her suffering into art. It’s obvious that the intense songs – and growing collection of tattoos – were linked to episodes in her life. On-screen renditions of the autobiographical songs by Abela tell Winehouse’s story as much as any imagined dialogue, with fervent vocals that sit forward in the sound mix, punching the Winehouse’s vibe and anguish into your heart.

Back to Black is being screened locally in the Queen’s Film Theatre and most other local cinemas. While I came into the film screening knowing that Winehouse was (to borrow her own phrase) “no fucking Spice Girl”, I wasn’t a particular aficionado of her sound or back catalogue. Over two hours, Back to Black tells a powerful story – albeit greatly simplified from it’s real life twists and turns – backed by brave lyrics, that can capture the attention of non-fans as well as those who still grieve her death aged twenty-seven. Recommended.

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