‘I Am Heath Ledger’, ‘Amy’, And The Implications Of Dead Celebrity Documentaries

I Am Heath Ledger, the latest installment of Spike TV’s “I Am” series, tells the story of the late actor‘s life through his own archival footage and interviews with family members and friends like Naomi Watts, Ben Mendelsohn, and Ben Harper. It’s ultimately incredibly poignant, and offers new insight – including the disputing of the theory that playing The Joker led to his untimely death – into Ledger’s life and career. It’s fascinating to hear about the home he kept in Los Feliz and all the actors – including Watts, Mendelsohn, Rose Byrne, Joel Edgerton, and more – that spent time there at the beginning of their careers, and Ledger’s obsession with documenting everything on camera (which aid heavily in making I Am Heath Ledger a stand-out documentary).

Ledger may have had his fair share of demons, but the majority of the film focuses on the happy things that made him tick, the endless creative energy he possessed, the deep love he carried for his friends, family, and daughter Matilda. It isn’t until the last ten or so minutes that the film fully leans into the tragedy of it all, letting sad music swell and tearful reactions from his loved ones run on full display. There’s nothing particularly exploitative about the film; the involvement of his family members and close friends (with the notable exception of former partner and mother of his daughter Michelle Williams, who has typically remained quiet on the matter) makes it feel as though the film has every stamp of approval necessary, and there isn’t really any sensationalizing or theorizing about what happened to Ledger – it’s more of a collection of fond memories involving the actor/director and the way he touched the people around him; a meditation on his impact, perhaps. It’s worth indulging in for fans of the actor or anyone simply curious about him – the film is a moving, occasionally enlightening summation of his life.

Spike TV has also chronicled the lives of Chris Farley, Steve McQueen, and Bruce Lee, among others, in their I Am series, but none have received as much attention as Ledger’s – perhaps because of his particular millennial appeal. I Am Heath Ledger was preceded by another massively popular documentary that chronicled the downfall of a young star: Amy. The film about the life and death of beloved British singer/songwriter Amy Winehouse won a slew of awards, including an Oscar for Best Documentary, and was critically acclaimed on virtually all fronts. Her stunning rise and devastating fall are documented over the course of the film by using archival footage and interviews, but received heavy criticism from her father, who claimed that the film was “misleading” and portrayed him and his relationship with his daughter unfairly. While his comments certainly did not hinder the film’s success, it does cast a bit of a shadow over the film’s content, and raises questions about the narrative surrounding Winehouse’s family life. Evidently, however, it is a tragically beautiful film, one that sheds a light on some of the darker, more difficult experiences of the young singer’s life.

While these documentaries can often act as a beautiful tribute to an artist taken too soon, the issue at hand lies in the fact that by making these films, we seemingly deem who is important (or scandalous) enough to warrant chronicling their life. Ledger and Winehouse were vastly talented and memorable individuals, but they are certainly not the only artists gone too soon who left a significant mark. There’s something to be said for the fact that both Ledger and Winehouse were twenty-something celebrities whose deaths were plagued by reports of drug abuse. The popularity of their lives’ stories arguably tap into the same part of us that craves true-crime documentaries and celebrity scandals; there’s an appeal, a sexy intrigue to these stories. That’s not to say that everyone who makes these films or enjoys these films is on an exploitative endeavor – it’s just important to note that there’s more than the beauty of the surface-level tribute at play here.

It is important to celebrate the lives of these artists and acknowledge their staggering losses, and it’s fortunate that we have talented storytellers to do so. Avoiding exploitation and sensationalizing in the process, however, is absolutely crucial, and this genre of film is a frequent offender. As more of these documentaries are produced, we can only hope that caution is taken, all voices are heard, and stories are told with respect. It’s the least we can do for those we’ve lost.