Amy- The Girl behind the Name

Ignorance is sometimes a blessing if you don't give in to it but are ready for the quantum leap or the little private illumination of allowing new things to exist, trying out other points of view, cultures or simply discovering an exciting singer late in life because in her heyday you were somewhat arrogant and fixated on other things which have now plunged the world into a perfect twilight, and Amy Winehouse is to me something of my daughter's Lost, six seasons in one go.  

Well, so that we always have someone who can intoxicate you, whose existence is not limited to everyday life, yes, the gossip and

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, the whole influencer and speaker rush that has gone off on a silly note is based on this longing to be special, but when you take a closer look you mostly just see a little girl who mostly had the wrong friends, but also chose the others had they been there and would have needed a bit more therapy, because we were all pretty wrong from the seventies to the nineties, some of them already in bohemian Paris, there is nothing desirable in repeating old mistakes.

So I'm going to let myself be enlightened for the first time by Asif Kapadia's Oscar-winning documentary, which benefits greatly from the fact that Amy is already filming and photographing, interviewing and examining things in a multimedia world and had no protective shield against the deprivatization of her soul.

Whether one has to use this so much to create the illusion of processing, when most of the time it is just a stringing together, an endless string of pearls of material that is hardly usable anymore, as if he had five times more of it. It seemed so arbitrary sometimes.

The girl

but is sooo good in its prime that it carries the film right to the finish line, although just when things threaten to get serious it falls apart, becomes banal, average, as is so often the case, something starts out better than it ends, why should it be any different in film than in life.

And Ms. Winehouse is not suited for a happy ending, that becomes clear very quickly and how one can grow old in the music business is sufficiently and comprehensively obvious. Mostly as a caricature of the good times.

That's why we shouldn't put too much faith in all the assurances, not even from the girl who wanted to die. Everyone who watches this documentary knows who is to blame and who is repressing it. But we should also remember the work itself, which is given far too little attention in this long confusion.

I know more about her drug addiction than about her music.

The reason why Amy still deserves a WOW is the diversity of those involved. It is really exemplary how extensive the meanings are, the fragments of memories of the people she met, and the fact that the director was almost a idiot like me, someone who had nothing to do with Amy but had to believe everything based on these opinions and the material, can be seen as a positive thing, and who really gets an ending in this lesson in how not to do things, as a young person, as a companion, as a parent, as a friend.

Being naive was the privilege of those who are now somewhat older; the explosion of knowledge also causes responsibility to explode.

The duet with Tony Bennett remains in the memory, her smile when she was still smoking weed, reporters who were probably very deep in thought, unnecessary jokes, real tears, and a voice to long for.