★★★ by Ifan Llewelyn
The celebrity biopic has undergone quite the thematic makeover in the past two years. Gone are the gritty, unflinching films of the mid-noughties, and in their place come the over-produced glitzy movies we’ve seen churned out in the past few years.
We’ve moved on from Cotillard’s tragic, balding Piaf in La Vie En Rose, or Phoenix’s pill-popping, adulterating Jonny Cash in Walk the Line, to Elton John sitting in a writer’s room approving dialogue praising how modest he is, or Brian May insisting on scenes featuring his invaluable input on Queen’s iconic music in Bohemian Rhapsody.
With it being half a century since Judy’s passing, and with Liza Minelli’s disapproval of the production, hopes were high for Judy, especially with chameleon Renée Zellweger in the title role. But despite Zellweger’s best efforts in delivering a studied and dedicated performance, the film couldn’t quite wean itself off the glitz and polish that it presumed audiences were expecting.
An adaptation of Peter Quilter’s stage play End of the Rainbow, Tom Edge’s screenplay tells the story of Garland’s fateful five-week booking at the Talk of the Town nightclub in London, 1969. Under the direction of Rupert Goold, this production intercuts the de-railing of Garland’s performances with her early career breaking into Hollywood.
Desperate for money and needing to provide for her two young children, Garland signs up for the run despite her failing health and being in the unrelenting grasp of addiction. In the face of a troubled childhood, lecherous big studio producers, industry misogyny, troubled romantic life and her professional and personal failures, Judy takes to the stage for a doomed run that was destined to live on in infamy.
The announcement of Zellweger’s casting inevitably riled some criticism, just as they had when the blonde, skinny Hollywood actress was set to play Britain’s beloved literary thirty-something single woman. Again she succeeds in dismissing any misgivings by delivering an impressive performance, embodying the icon’s jittery mannerisms and energetic frailty. She’s troubled, yet endearing. Fiesty, yet sensitive. The performance is however stunted by a production that feels a little more standard-issue, with her troubles punctuated by flashbacks to being starved, drugged or inappropriately caressed in her early career.
This imagining of Garland’s late career doesn’t quite let us see her at her lowest. Despite the narrative surrounding her hitting rock bottom, we only see Garland slipping the odd pill and getting a little dazed, confused and accident-prone. There are countless pictures and first-hand accounts of Garland’s behaviour and all-round health in those last few months, the extent of which isn’t portrayed in Judy. Instead, the film opts for elaborate and familiar scenes, from being on-set at Oz to a Hollywood house party with daughter Liza (portrayed by Gemma-Leah Devereux).
What is fantastic is to see the film incorporate her legacy as a gay icon, with the singer spending an intimate evening in the living room of her two most devoted fans. The film’s inclusion of a queer sub-plot marks a real recognition of the people who made her the legend she is. You may think “how couldn’t they?”, but you need only look back a few years to Streep’s The Iron Lady that completely omitted the PM’s impact on the lives of queer people. The fictionalised evening spent listening to the issues plaguing the gay men of the 1960s is a delightful recognition of Garland’s gay advocacy.
Judy is a fine film. Zellweger rises to the occasion of portraying the icon, though understandably not quite achieving her vocal prowess. What you’re left with however is a feeling that this was a missed opportunity. The figure who’s only known to most as the rosy-cheeked, curly-haired girl from Kansas isn’t quite fleshed out as we hope she’d be. If we’re looking for a sequin-clad impression of the singer, then we’d throw on her iteration of A Star is Born. What we wanted was grit, what we get is glitter.
Judy is out on 4th October.
