Sporting more wit and personality than the average music biopic, Back to Black nevertheless steps in some the same traps that make wary moviegoers roll their eyes whenever a new project is announced.

The subject here is Amy Winehouse, and Marisa Abela (Max’s Industry) excels at the thankless, borderline ill-conceived assignment of playing the late singer/songwriter.

Supporting her is a filmmaking team that truly cares: director Sam Taylor-Johnson, who broke through with the Young John Lennon biopic Nowhere Boy, written by Back to Black screenwriter Matt Greenhalgh — a specialist in this field, having penned respectable films about Joy Division’s Ian Curtis (Control) and additional fact-based tales.

Greenhalgh spins a straight story in an entertaining fashion without resorting to gimmicks, showing Amy’s talents as an artist while driving home how autobiographical her songs truly are. But in depicting the hard living that informs her lyrics, it’s unclear why she’s prone to addiction and poor decisions in general. Sure, she comes from a broken home — specifics that the film barely explores — and was a bad student, but beyond having an insatiable need for love, we don’t really know what makes Amy tick.

However, her big heart keeps Back to Black afloat more often than not, particularly through the sweet relationship with her nan Cynthia (the ever-reliable Lesley Manville). Things are slightly more complicated with the men in her life, including her father Mitch (Eddie Marsan) and a magnetic Jack O’Connell as Blake Fielder-Civil, whom Amy falls hard for after a romantic meet-cute day at the pub.

In chronicling these relationships, Taylor-Johnson employs a level of artistry rarely seen in music biopics. Tasteful slow zooms during longer exchanges highlight the bond between Amy and the key people in her life, and a similar amount of thoughtfulness imbues the numerous lovingly crafted musical numbers.

As Amy’s career continues to skyrocket, an air of inevitable tragedy hangs over Back to Black like a drawn-out version of Ryan Coogler’s single-day Fruitvale Station. And though rifts in her relationship with Blake arise somewhat suddenly and without much development, and her bold dealings with the tireless paparazzi are similarly head-scratching, it’s clear that each setback brings her closer to the end.

The filmmakers also somewhat bungle the ending, sealing Amy’s doom but offering zero idea on how much time elapses between the last we see of her and her death. Such shortcomings don’t tarnish the gains made up to that point, but sends the work out on an unrepresentative note.

Grade: B-minus. Rated R. Now playing at AMC River Hills 10, Carolina Cinemark, the Fine Arts Theatre, Grail Moviehouse, and Regal Biltmore Grande.

(Photo: Dean Rogers/Focus Features)