Judy

Judy Garland was one of the greatest screen performers of the 20^th century, if not of all time. She was not merely a triple-threat capable of singing, dancing, and performing, but possessing that ephemeral thing dubbed “it.” She remains an impossibly charismatic star and an actor that often appeared to be an exposed nerve on the screen.

Garland was not merely the greatest musical performer of her time, if not of all time, but a grand character off the screen as well. Plagued by an abusive childhood that transformed into a series of broken marriages, addiction, and a fall from grace that somehow seems at odds with our collective memories of her as a wholesome girl-next-door. Her legend is as much built upon her artistic achievements as it is her tragedy. Her story is ripe for dramatic interpretation.

Into that legacy comes Judy, a glimpse into the final year of her life as she struggles through a London residency. The film is a mixed bag. By limiting its scope and points of reference for her iconography, it also doesn’t provide enough reasons to care for her as a character or for audiences not as well versed in her legacy a demonstration of what was lost along the way. Garland was a genius performer, but Judy’s main counterpoint is the behind-the-scenes turmoil of The Wizard of Oz, so her present day nervous, broken figure is left only partially formed.

Not only that but Judy engages in some mawkish wish-fulfillment in a fictional gay couple having a kiki with the legend and a climatic group singalong of “Over the Rainbow.” Full disclosure, mawkish it may be, but that final scene also got me in the gay spot due to Garland’s tremulously “Promise you won’t forget me.” We won’t and we haven’t Judy.

Which leads us to Renée Zellweger and her central performance. Not merely some simple awards-bait or comeback attempt, but a performance built out of carefully noticed details about Garland – her slumped gait, the way she held the mic, her various performing tics. If Zellweger doesn’t come entirely close to absorbing Garland’s high wire emoting style, that’s because no one can copy or emulate something so unique and specific. What Zellweger does do is give us the essence of Garland and enough details that we invest in the reality of the film’s world.

Hollywood loves to look back at its own and deify them as a way to atone for sins committed against their own. Judy is an example of that, but if you really want to honor Garland’s legacy then watch her films and concert appearances. If you don’t know where to look beyond The Wizard of Oz, then I have plenty of suggestions.