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How I’m Feeling Now on Netflix review: Lewis Capaldi’s intimate documentary is raw and unflinching

 (Netflix)
(Netflix)

With his rise to fame off the back of emotionally charged hit songs, coupled with a winning personality displayed to millions on social media, many will feel they know Lewis Capaldi already. But this new Netflix documentary, How I’m Feeling Now, shows a very different side to the seemingly happy-go-lucky star.

The Someone You Loved singer has hit levels of success many artists could only dream of. With four number one singles and the best selling album in the UK two years in a row, his famous wit and ability to be himself despite the fame has only added to his enormous appeal. Asked once by the chat show host Graham Norton “Didn’t the tour sell out, before your debut album came out? How is that possible?” without missing a beat, the affable star replied, “Just raw sex appeal. You look at me and you think, I’m going to have a feast for the eyes.”

Few, though, have seen his battle with mental health issues behind the scenes, and it’s this that the film digs into, to startling effect.

The documentary, which was filmed from 2020 to 2022, opens with the singer, visibly anxious and twitching during an interview. “I’ve never been more insecure about my life than I am now,” he says, before the screen cuts to a quote: “I feel like I’m in a race against time to get my mental health in order.”

It moves to footage of the singer jokingly describing how he expected to become an A-lister, with Capaldi declaring December 26, 2018, as “the day I became a celeb.” It shows footage of the singer’s performances, with the size of the crowds and the venues steadily increasing.

But then things begin to get darker. “Is it worth it? Making you feel like this?” asks his mother, clearly concerned. It sets the tone for what is to come.

Capaldi takes us back to his hometown of Whitburn, West Lothian in August 2020, in the midst of the pandemic, where he was in the early stages of working on his second album.

He describes his hometown as the “antithesis of all the f***ing mad shit”, and coming home is clearly an antidote for him to the excesses of fame. In a nice touch, we see him learn that his track Before You Go has topped the US Billboard Airplay Chart from the study of his childhood home.

Capaldi, in truth, revels in the comforts of his normal life, having beers with school friends who remain part of his inner circle. He takes solace in the “safety net” of his family, and talks about feeling a sense of imposter syndrome about his acheivements – a moment that is genuinely moving, rather than tell-all-documentary bluster.

He talks about discussing the topic with Ed Sheeran (again, over a beer), which resulted, apparently after Sheeran voiced his concerns, in a heartfelt email of support from none other than Sir Elton John, which ended, “Stop it now please, or I will come up to Suffolk and bring out the latent homo in you. Buckets of love, Elton.”

The imposter syndrome he speaks of leads him to even doubt why people would want to see him live. “I just don’t get it, I don’t get why people would turn up and see it,” he says, at a loss.

Made by renowned BAFTA-winning filmmaker Joe Pearlman, who was behind the hugely popular Bros: After the Screaming Stops, this compelling film is constructed with a fly-on-the-wall vibe and a range of both archive and newly shot material, that pair together to tell a well-rounded story of Capaldi’s past and present, with intimate to-camera moments filling in the gaps. It depicts the star’s struggles with his self-esteem, his fear of losing himself in the success, and the pressure of the expectations placed on him for his follow up album.

 (Netflix)
(Netflix)

Leaving his childhood home removed his safety net, and the documentary follows him as he moves in with his close friend Nick to try and keep some form of his past life intact. Twists and turns include the exploration of family trauma, which triggers a battle with anxiety, and a diagnosis of Tourette’s syndrome (a condition from which fellow artist Billie Eilish also suffers, and which is exacerbated by exhaustion), which happens during the making of the film, and which gets so bad that at one point filming is put on hold for four months.

One of the most difficult scenes to watch features Capaldi being overcome with these anxiety-induced twitches, forcing him to stop his performance at Wembley Arena midway-through, with his dad racing to the stage to try and reassure him.

Pearlman’s film transcends mere fanbase appeal, and not just thanks to the relatability and warmth of its much-loved subject. It digs deep into Capaldi as a person, a seeming ‘cheeky chappie’ who suffers from panic attacks, struggles to accept and understand his fame, and is plagued by fear of letting people down. Even those for whom his musical material isn’t their bag will be able to take something from his experience on a human level.

Capaldi has never been one to shy away from his emotions in his songs, but his openness in this raw and unflinching documentary is a step beyond that, both brave and inspiring. Perhaps, since a lot of people are going to watch it, it will encourage his fans and others too to be more open about mental health.

How I’m Feeling Now is out on Netflix on April 5