Most notably, obviously, with 1995’s landmark teen movie, Clueless.Īfter reading a script from Monjack based on the book The White Hotel, Murphy met with him to discuss it. So she picked up and left with her only child for Edison, New Jersey where Sharon took a job “in advertising.” Usually the first sign someone is willing to sign a contract with the devil.Īmong other “crime journalists” commenting on Murphy’s path to Hollywood, the British Bryn Hammond describes Sharon as “Brittany’s pillar,” more like a sister than a mother–this, too, forewarns of an inevitable betrayal stemming from the inherent competitiveness and jealousy of such a dynamic, with Brittany soon transforming into the mother figure once they moved to Los Angeles and she started making money off her acting. That was in Florida, before “Angelo’s flashy ways” no longer interested Sharon (which likely meant when the cash stopped flowing and he started going to jail, she bolted). Though, at the very least, they managed to involve Murphy’s father, Angelo Bertolotti (who has since died in early 2019), an ex-mafioso who, clearly, in his profession, knew how to sniff out a killer–declaring the culprit behind Brittany’s poisoning to be her mother.Īs one rando commentator on the matter describes, “Angelo had a shady background, he was in the mob… He met Sharon and hired her to work in one of his clubs” (something about it all smacks of the Michael and Dina Lohan variety). Because the way they treated Brittany Murphy when she was alive was terrible.” The “ID Mystery” then cuts to a home video style clip of Murphy interviewing people in a mall while in middle school, though it’s unclear for what purpose or why (though at some point a man offscreen asks, “Would you want a job hosting television?”)… just one of many shrugging aspects when it comes to detail-orientedness in this documentary. And I hope they wash them with very hot water. The exposé opens with Murphy’s husband, Simon Monjack, remarking in an interview (one of many he seemed happy to take after her death), “Hollywood is a village, and once you upset the villagers, they talk. Though that isn’t to say there isn’t some adequate use of archival footage to paint a portrait of Murphy’s life. And one wonders if the mystery surrounding Murphy’s death might have been better served by this level of attention to detail and subtler style of storytelling. In certain respects, however, there are moments when it recalls the style of Asif Kapadia’s 2015 documentary, Amy, told entirely in home video clips and voiceovers/talking head narration to sculpt the life and demise of Winehouse. As the possible murder of Brittany Murphy in 2009 begins to spark interest again in the wake of a documentary called Brittany Murphy: An ID Mystery (ID being an abbreviation for Investigation Discovery), one can’t help but lament its rather low-budget nature, something of a trashier version of an E! True Hollywood Story (with a similarly short length to match).
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