Six years since her death, it seems Whitney Houston has yet to find peace. The latest controversy to batter her legacy is the a photo depicting a bathroom, apparently Huston’s, strewn with drug paraphernalia that appears on the cover of a new album by rapper Pusha T. In a statement, the Houston estate described itself as “extremely disappointed” with the photograph: “Even in Whitney’s death, we see that no one is exempt from the harsh realities of the world.”
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Legacy management is an increasingly significant business as estates and record companies sensitively administer the posthumous careers of their artists. As you’d imagine, Huston is no exception. A painful – and unauthorised – reminder of the miserable trajectory behind Houston’s stellar burnout, such as the Pusha T sleeve, is clearly deeply troubling. The same could be said for Nick Broomfield’s doc from last year, Whitney: Can I Be Me?, which was made without the estate’s co-operation. Now Andrew Macdonald presents the authorised take on what is essentially the same story Broomfield told – but made with the estate’s involvement.
What’s the difference, you might ask? Macdonald has better access – though it is possible that protective agendas inevitably colour the project. In one scene, Macdonald tries to steer a conversation with Bobby Brown towards drugs, but the singer bats away the director’s questions with a revealing, “That’s not what this film is about.” But Macdonald’s film contains at least one bombshell – but it is saved until late in the day, as if its grand reveal alone explains all of Houston’s struggles.
Whitney follows the current pattern of gone-too-soon docs. While it is no Amy, it does at least capture something of Asif Kapadia’s film: the fury of public judgment that turns to pity far too late in the day.
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