Whitney Houston means so much to me, it’s hard to talk about her without ugly crying. I’m actually tearing up at my desk writing this while my editor laughs at me, so you can imagine how much of a mess I was when I watch Whitney for the first time in theatres. Houston’s story is tragic for a lot of reasons, but the biggest injustice of the short-lived icon’s life is that her legacy has been reduced to jokes about crack and an emphasis on her drug use and tumultuous marriage with Bobby Brown. Houston was the greatest voice of her generation. She doesn’t get enough credit for her massive impact on music or her immense talent. I’ve seen every documentary made about her and all of them focus on the sad sh-t instead of her musical legacy. There was a lot of sad sh-t. I get it. But when we talk about other musical legends, like Kurt Cobain or Johnny Cash, the negatives of their life are discussed second to their genius. This doc Whitney often suffers from the same problems as its predecessors, but it shows glimpses of a respectful ode to Houston’s work that make it worth the watch. Have tissues handy.