THIS IS THE IMAGE I LIKE TO KEEP IN MIND WHEN I THINK OF WHITNEY.
"Whitney," the documentary written and directed by Kevin MacDonald, and executive produced by her agent, Nicole David, and her sister-on-law, Pat Houston, is simply devastating.
That's what the truth can sometimes be, and in this case, I could barely walk out of the theatre. When a magical performer with an extraordinary light explodes and dies because of being unable to deal with demons, therefore taking drugs to get out of the pain, it is such a horrific waste. Years can pass, and your remembrance of the pain caused by their passing subsidies a little bit. But, then along comes a documentary such as this and you just plummet again. I hope that maybe seeing this film could save even one person's life.
Everyone around Whitney was controlling her (her mother), using her, sexually abusing her, and, in some cases (her father) stealing from her. Everybody looked at Bobbi Kristina when she was born and thought, "she doesn't stand a chance." Well, neither did Whitney.
I don't want to give away the new information presented here, but, I warn you that there's a ton of ugly drug footage that is so sad. She was so tortured and either unable or unwilling to get help, that, as I was sobbing in my seat I had to say, "Thank God she's out of pain. She truly is better off in Heaven.
I was blessed to see her three times in concert, and meet her twice. I'll treasure that.