Whitney

I was lucky enough to see this as part of preview screening at the Brixton Ritzy, bookended by incredible performances from the London Community Gospel Choir. It was emotionally exhausting, a whole range from euphoria at her stratospheric rise to distress at Whitney's destructive fall and personal tragedy. The film is an education in the music industry, media reaction and family drama. Stark and shocking in places with well chosen news footage framing her life in the context of the world she lived in at the time.

The stage curtains open ...

I remember one time, I was about 18 years old, still living at home - my family and I were watching a live performance on television of a new sensation singing "The Greatest Love Of All". I was blown away - me ... a kid who primarily listened to rock and metal music, was completely enamored with the magic of what was Whitney Houston. My Dad made the comment that he didn't like her. My Mom agreed. They thought she sang too loud and they didn't like singers with vocals that could blow you out of the room. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My brother wasn't really paying attention, and my sister was too young to appreciate it. I never understood how my parents weren't able to recognize what was the best voice of my generation. Perhaps of all-time. But, I saw it. Me - a rocker, a headbanger. I saw Whitney for what she was. I felt like I was the only one in the whole world that night, that she was singing only to me. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. That is the effect Whitney Houston had on me. The day she died, I cried.

This documentary was very well made. It was insightful, deep and told with compassion by those who knew her best and loved her the most. Taking us on her life's journey from the influence of her mother, aunt and other family members - from singing gospel in church and signing a record deal with Arista. Her success and fame, the accolades she received - then through the troubled times, her rocky marriage, drug abuse and finally her tragic death. I re-lived my own youth when I saw her early performances. She reached my heart yet again, although this time it was much more somber and sad.

I deeply appreciated this film and will watch it again. It captures the essence of Whitney, of who she really was - and the Whitney I always envisioned as a young man growing up. She was beautiful then, she still is now ... she always will be. One of our greatest losses.

I wasn't a huge fan of Nick Broomfield and Rudi Dolezal's Whitney (2017). The film was built on the foundation of never-before-seen backstage footage from Houston's World Tour 1999, but I felt the narrative was poorly constructed, jumping from her divorce from Bobby Brown in 2007 to her death in 2012 with very little detail on what happened in those five years. This had the effect of making the last part of the documentary feel rushed and incomplete. I went into it not knowing a huge amount about Whitney Houston (apart from the obvious bits and pieces that everyone knows), and I came out still not knowing a huge amount about her.

Written and directed by Kevin Macdonald, Whitney covers almost identical terrain as Broomfield and Dolezal, with many of the same interviewees appearing in both films, and much of the same factual information presenting itself (Houston tried drugs long before becoming a celebrity; she was criticised as "acting white" and selling out her culture by many black people, and was booed at the 1989 Soul Train Music Awards (where her single "Where Do Broken Hearts Go" was nominated for Best R&B/Urban Contemporary Single - Female"); she was hounded with questions regarding her sexuality for much of her life, etc). One hugely important absence from both films, of course, is Robyn Crawford, Whitney's one time best friend, road manager, and probable lover, who was pretty much the only person in Houston's life who seemed to tell her what was really what, as opposed to what she wanted to hear, and have Houston's best interests at heart. Apart from a beautiful obituary for Esquire (on whose editorial staff Crawford's wife works), Crawford has maintained a dignified silence since Houston died, and neither Broomfield and Dolezal nor Macdonald were able to persuade her to speak on camera. This leaves a sizeable lacuna in the narratives of both films, as it is fairly unlikely anyone will really get to the core of who Houston was until (or indeed if) Crawford decides to tell her own story. As a side note, one interesting figure who didn't appear in Can I Be Me, but who does unexpectedly pop up in Whitney is Clive Davis, president of Arista Records, and the man who signed Houston to her first record deal.

For all their similarities, however, I found Macdonald's film superior to Can I Be Me. Whitney has two major, and interconnected, advantages over the earlier film. Can I Be Me is more concerned with facts, and probably covers more "Did you know" moments, such as the idea to open "I Will Always Love You" capella style was actually Kevin Costner's. However, having said that, Macdonald does manage to squeeze in a couple of not especially well known moments of his own; for example, Houston's haunting rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner" at the 1991 Super Bowl (where she had her bandleader and arranger Rickey Minor take the radical step of altering the time signature from a 3/4 to a 4/4) was completely unrehearsed, and the revelations regarding Dee Dee Warwick are shocking to say the least. However, what Macdonald does much better than Broomfield and Dolezal is that, on several occasions, he takes time out from the narrative to simply let the audience hear her sing. Probably because of this, his film is considerably more emotive. I was very moved by it on a couple of occasions; I don't remember being moved by Can I Be Me at all. One scene in particular I found very upsetting recalls that horrific scene in Amy - The Girl Behind the Name (2015) where Amy Winehouse is performing in Serbia a month before she died. In Whitney, it's footage from her Nothing But Love World Tour 2010, as she tries and completely fails to sing "I Will Always Love You" in Newcastle. The crowd is respectful enough, but given that so much of the documentary is simply about her voice, seeing her like this is very sad, as with her hoarse voice, she can barely stay in tune, let alone hit the high notes, sounding more like someone doing a bad karaoke rendition than one of the greatest singers of all time.

Another very well handled part of the documentary's narrative is its coverage of what could be termed "mainstream media complicity" in her suffering. Look, Whitney Houston was a drug addict and a terrible mother, who was indirectly responsible for Bobbi Kristina Brown's death, insofar as she gave her child no stability, and introduced her to a world of substance abuse. Nobody is arguing anything different. But she was also a person, suffering deeply, in public, and very few people did, or even tried to do, anything to help her. The film presents a 2002 sketch from Il Saturday Night Live (1975) with Maya Rudolph as Whitney, in which she addresses the infamous Diane Sawyer "crack is whack" interview, and a scene from a 2005 episode of American Dad! (2005), in which an emaciated Whitney "sings for crack" in the Smith living-room. These clips were probably funny at the time, but aren't especially funny now, and they serve to highlight one of the most bizarre paradoxes of our celebrity obsessed society; we love to build people up and up and up, but, at some arbitrary point in time, we decide they've become too popular, too successful, too talented, so we do anything to pull them down, and when something goes wrong in their lives, really catastrophically wrong, our response as a society is not empathy, kindness, or understanding, but scorn, derision, and sarcasm. What a strange world we've made.

Just kidding!

This is quite good, better than your average Behind the Music episode due to the access to the interviewees and how much they opened up - McDonald is also solid as an interviewer and makes sure to ask follow up questions much as possible - and there are many candid home video clips of Houston that add to the subject matter (the best being a bit where she decries Paula Abdul but not before her mother Cissy shittalks Janet Jackson).

McDonald and his editors take pop culture and politics and make damn sure through montage to compare and contrast in literally smashing pieces together that Houston's music couldn't be disentangled from the times they were in. How she became so monumentally successful? What was the world she was in? Somehow only she could pull off the Star Spangled Banner as a black woman to such a way everyone else since aspires to that.

Downsides: it has the predictable arc due to knowing a pop stars history, but the tragedy here is that there were so many who were there for Whitney and she succumbed to her addictions.

Great exposé of this talented woman dealing with her career and addiction. Had no idea what she's been through.