A life lived so vibrantly spotlighted as that of Amy Winehouse’s was ripe for the biographical pickings from the moment of her death, all too soon back in 2011. It’s an indictment of the day and age we live in. Nothing to be proud of. Back to Black is the first dramatisation out of the blocks. It follows, and skulks in the shadow of, Asif Kapadia’s superior 2015 documentary, Amy. Where that film dived deep, upsetting her family in the process, this one’s but a paddle in the shallow end. A superficial and underwhelming entry to the current vogue for jukebox biopics. It’s worse than that though. Back to Black hasn’t the self-awareness to recognise itself as being no better than the then paparazzi it vindicates.

Many, it is likely, will find the film entirely passable. Courtesy of Winehouse herself, it boasts a terrific soundtrack, allowing Sam Taylor-Johnson ample opportunity for montage. It’s an easy win for the Fifty Shades of Grey director, who shoots with eloquence and style. As for the lead, Marisa Abela certainly looks the part. She makes an impressive stab too at vocal impersonation, going hell for leather with song and script alike. Rote, simplistic writing – from Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool’s Matt Greenhalgh – does Abela no favours but her effort and respect for Winehouse are palpable. There’s more to capturing Amy than the donning of a beehive and faux ‘Daddy’s Girl’ tattoo.

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