Amy Winehouse wakes up and hugs the pillow. She lies there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if she even wants to get through the day. She sits up in bed and pleads her case.
In her bathrobe, she walks to the bathroom and stands over the sink. She fixes her hair, thinking of all the things her friends and family have said to her. She can make it through on her own. She doesn’t need help.
After getting dressed, she sits on the stairs and leans against of her band member’s saxophones. She admits she’s been depressed but she can fight it.
Her therapist is outlining all the issues of her problems. She leans back in the chair, her legs propped up on his desk, wanting to know how he can tell her who she is in one session.
The sequence begins all over again with Winehouse back in her bedroom, bathroom, stairs, bedroom and therapist’s office.
Despite her protests, she sits on a bed in an isolated room, far away from any dangerous influences.
For such an excellent song, the video is underwhelming. It moves from set to set in an assembly line fashion. In the rooms, it doesn’t feel like anybody lives there. It’s only Winehouse’s emotional expressions and gestures that break through. She seems lost for most of it. However, her defiance shows up when she’s at the therapist. Even though it’s pretend, her eyes flash and she’s ready to tear off anybody’s head who dares to tell her how she feels. By the end, she’s defeated but she’s going to find herself a way to get out. She’ll scrape through a window, if needed.
Director: Phil Griffin Year: 2006
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