Rating: PG-13
Runtime: 1 hour, 58 minutes
Director: Rupert Goold
Quick Impressions:
You’d never guess from stepping outside that it’s supposedly fall, and the autumnal equinox now lies behind us, but even if the weather isn’t cooperating, at least serious Oscar contenders are beginning to show up in theaters near me. I was rabidly excited to see Renée Zellweger’s much lauded star turn in Judy. (For a while, I grew depressed, worried that it wouldn’t open here this week, and even if it did, it wouldn’t open until it was actually Friday. But late Sunday night, a Thursday evening showtime suddenly appeared on the website of a theater on the other side of town, and I snatched up tickets immediately.)
We arrived first to an empty auditorium, but a few minutes later an extremely friendly man and his husband showed up, possibly even more excited about the film than I was. After the trailers started, a few more people trickled in, though nobody seemed as keyed up as the friendly guy sitting near us and me, and in the middle of the movie, an elderly couple actually got up and left. (It was during a scene with some harsh language, but I don’t know if they were offended or left for reasons unrelated to the movie.)
My new friend on our row reminded me that the film got a two minute standing ovation at the Toronto International Film Festival. Renée Zellweger does indeed give an excellent performance, disappearing (unless you’re looking for her) into the role of the troubled, late-in-life star. Zellweger will definitely be nominated for Best Actress for her work here, and she could win. I think it’s probably the best performance I’ve seen from her ever (although she’s awfully perfect as Bridget Jones). She deserves all the accolades she’s getting. She even does all the singing herself. But after watching the film, I’m nearly one-hundred percent sure that the two minute standing ovation was for Judy Garland.
No offense meant to Zellweger. Remember the rapturous, sublime ending of Bohemian Rhapsody? You’re not watching thinking, “Wow, what a performance by Rami Malek!” You believe the illusion. You’re cheering and crying for Freddie Mercury. Granted, it is Malek’s performance that makes this possible, and the same kind of thing is happening with Zellwegger here. That’s why I think she’ll probably win an Oscar just like he did. But the standing ovation is for Judy Garland.
The Good:
This movie is so emotional. As the end credits rolled, my husband remarked, “Well, that was a great movie if you like to spend two hours getting stabbed through the heart with an ice pick.”
We both really liked the film, but I don’t think I’ve cried so much at the movie theater since Still Alice. (Admittedly, Still Alice was more of a tear-jerker, but watching Judy, you even cry when you’re happy. Whether your heart is touched or troubled, your eyes are full of tears.)
As my husband also noted, even the moments when Judy is happy seem more ominous than joyous for the audience since we watch apprehensively, knowing something awful must be lurking just around the corner. After all, Judy Garland’s story does not have a very cheerful ending. (I can’t say that it doesn’t have a happy ending since I’m sure death brought her peace, and she left such a rewarding legacy, but her final months were surely not easy for her.)
Still, for a film about the final year of Judy Garland’s life, this one does a good job of avoiding moroseness. Judy manages to make us sympathetic to the woman’s suffering and simultaneously show us that she was more than just her miseries. We see her as a performer who thrives on the connection to an audience, a desperately loving mother, and a compassionate friend, willing to see anyone who truly sees her. (In that mystical James Cameron’s Avatar sense of the phrase.) She’s also quite witty. And, yes, of course, she’s got that voice.
Obviously when it comes to singing, Renée Zellweger is no Judy Garland. But she does do all the singing herself and quite competently (certainly much better than I could sing the songs). When I first heard about this film a thousand years ago, I was initially skeptical that Zellweger had the pipes to pull it off. I mean, sure, she sounded great in Chicago, but then at the Oscars, she decided not to perform the nominated song live on stage. Instead, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Queen Latifah sang it, despite the fact that Zeta-Jones was 25 months pregnant, and Latifah doesn’t sing that song in the movie. That seemed really fishy to me (probably because media personalities kept talking about it. Did Zellweger have stage fright? Was her voice enhanced for the movie? Even without altering the voice, in a movie only the best takes are used. Was she not up to the task of performing live on stage?)
She performs these songs beautifully, though, in the style of late life Judy Garland. As I said, she doesn’t have the voice of Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz or Meet Me in St. Louis, but at that stage of life, neither did Garland herself exactly. The difference, obviously is that Judy Garland had way of making you feel the passion of her singing that Zellweger doesn’t quite have. But she’s still very good, and since Judy Garland is not available to play the part herself, Zellweger is the next best thing. Nobody can sing like Judy Garland, but Zellweger performs the songs well in the style of the artist while simultaneously making us so sympathetic to the woman herself.
Another great performance (unexpected by me) comes from the actress playing the teenaged Judy, Darci Shaw. Honestly I did not expect this girl to be so good. I’ve never heard of her, and she only plays Judy in the flashbacks, but she’s really doing outstanding work. Obviously, she’s dressed up like a Wizard of Oz era Judy Garland, and it helps that she vaguely resembles her. She mimics her cadence and the timbre of her voice, but that’s to be expected. What impressed me is how well Shaw imitates Garland’s body language, mannerisms, non-verbal reactions, breathing. In a very early scene (possibly the first scene), during a conversation with an intimidating L.B. Mayer (Richard Cordery, giving a performance I also liked), Shaw moves backwards just a bit, and I felt a little twinge of excitement thrill through me. I almost leaned over and whispered to my husband, “She moves just like Judy Garland!” (I held back because I’d already been so chatty with our neighbor before the movie that I thought perhaps I should shut up for a while.) But Shaw’s imitation of Garland’s movements is so spot on. She clearly watched Garland a lot to prepare. I’m curious to see what this young actress does in the future because I’m so impressed by her non-verbal command of Judy Garland.
Jessie Buckley is also a sympathetic presence as Judy’s assistant/handler in London, Rosalyn Wilder. (I still haven’t seen Buckley in this summer’s Wild Rose, which I keep hearing is fantastic.) Rufus Sewell makes Syd Luft look like the most creepy, menacing ex-husband who ever lived. Finn Wittrock plays Mickey Deans as a sleazy opportunist who does seem to have feelings for Garland, or at least to be carried away by romantic dreams of the professional successes they could enjoy together. Michael Gambon lends some dignity and gravitas to Bernard Delfont. And Royce Pierreson gives a good performance as Judy’s London accompanist and eventual friend. (I kept thinking more might happen with that character. I think because Pierreson has such presence and watches Judy so carefully.)
Andy Nyman (who I always think of as Howard from Death at a Funeral) and Daniel Cerqueira provide some of the least depressing moments of the movie as a sweet couple who come to Garland’s show every single night. I wish these characters were specifically real, but I suspect they are composites meant to show the love of the gay community for Judy Garland, and also Judy’s devotion to her fans. I have read that the aging Garland did sometimes return to fans’ homes, have dinner with them, and sleep on their couches. So there is definitely truth in these scenes. The film makes it quite easy to understand why the gay community would embrace someone who is constantly being told, “Of course I will give you my love and acceptance, if only you will quit being who you are and make yourself into something completely different.” (All those overbearing, paternalistic chats with Louis B. Mayer really drive this point home.) Garland’s decision to triumph anyway on her own terms and despite her suffering is easy to root for. In many ways, the scenes with Nyman and Cerqueira are the heart of the movie.
So the supporting cast is doing its work, but Zellweger herself basically carries the movie as Judy. If that performance didn’t work, the entire project would be a failure. That’s why I think she’ll probably win the Oscar for Best Actress this year.
I personally could relate so much to the character Zellweger portrayed. Now, I can’t sing like Judy Garland. I can’t even sing like Renée Zellweger. I also don’t have Garland’s addiction issues (though I do take psychiatric medication to treat bipolar disorder). But boy can I relate to her insomnia! The horrors of not being able to sleep are quite familiar to me, as is the anxiety, nervous energy, periodic exhaustion, restlessness, fidgetiness, stage fright. (I rarely go on stage now, but I frequently panic before doing something expected of me.) At one moment in the movie, a room service waiter persistently knocks on the door of Garland’s suite and wakes her up after she has finally managed to fall asleep. This practically gave my husband PTSD. “Oh don’t wake her up!” he breathed, wincing in horror. (People who usually can sleep never seem to understand this. They always say, “You’ll sleep extra well tomorrow night.” Maybe you will, but some of us will be making soap with Brad Pitt in a few days.)
I had heard before going that Zellweger is better than the film, but I found the movie itself quite well crafted. It is definitely structured to make us sympathize with Judy Garland. You wouldn’t have to know anything about her prior to seeing the movie. Five minutes and you’re on her side for life.
Of course, it’s pretty hard not to feel for Judy Garland. I remember watching a short documentary about her on PBS with my mother when I was in college. By the end, I was sobbing hysterically and ready to burn down Hollywood.
Best Scene Visually:
My favorite scene is when Judy climbs into Joey’s wardrobe and speculates that perhaps she could live there. I can’t tell you how emphatically this resonated with me. Fall is such a difficult time for me. (That autumnal equinox exists to destroy me. It wreaks havoc with my mental health.) Just before the movie started, I was saying to my husband, “This is why I haven’t achieved more in my life. Sometimes I’m unreliable.” “No,” he said, “you are reliable if you have to be. It just takes a lot out of you.” I wasn’t even thinking about the film while making these comments, but I had certainly come to the right movie.
I love the way the broken-hearted Judy attempts to cheer up her children through play. I thought to myself, “If only she had someone to take care of her! If she really could live in Joey’s wardrobe, then perhaps she would be okay.” Then again, you can’t very well keep Judy Garland in a wardrobe!
In general, the film’s visual aesthetic really worked for me. The costumes in this movie are kind of wonderful, and Zellweger really does end up looking like Judy. The make-up is good, too. She doesn’t look like she’s made up to look like someone. She just looks like someone. I find Ole Bratt Birkeland’s cinematography unobtrusive yet interesting, and I particularly liked the use of color. For a film that so frequently flashes back to The Wizard of Oz, variation in color seems like something to note.
My husband also noted that during the songs, we so often get so close to Zellweger’s face. He thought this was to emphasize how well Zellweger performs the songs that she is actually singing. I agree but also think it’s a nod to the intimacy of Garland’s singing style. She’s one of those people whose voice can fill any space, but you always feel she’s singing right to you.
I think the intimacy of the wardrobe shows the the warmth and personal touch of Judy Garland as she pulls you into a special space she has created just for you.
Best Action Sequence:
I love the way Rosalyn Wilder hurries Judy along on opening night. Not just anyone could pull this off. Wilder seems more useful that many of the people “helping” Garland, that’s for sure. (I also think it’s a good choice to make us wait so long to hear Judy sing.)
Best Scene:
The film ends at the perfect moment, and the last scene is beyond touching. You kind of want to die of sadness and joy.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment,
Renée
Zellweger:
Zellweger’s obvious Oscar clip is her harrowing scene in the red phone booth where Judy makes a tense call to her daughter Lorna. Judy proves here that she is a good mother, but her heart-break is so palpable. I didn’t know Judy Garland personally, but I feel we get a clear sense of who she is here. Zellweger is so good you forget about her completely. She disappears into Judy’s pain. (Despite her pain, we see that she is a consummate performer and a loving mother.)
Zellweger’s work in this movie is definitely the most deserving Best Actress performance I’ve seen so far this year. The only other potential nominees I can imagine are Awkwafina in The Farewell, maybe Lupita N’yongo in Us, and possibly Florence Pugh in Midsommar (though I wouldn’t choose that one). (If the Oscar were for accidentally breaking things in moments of panic, it would go to Chloë Grace Moretz’s character in Greta.) I loved Cate Blanchett in Where’d You Go, Bernadette?, but I feel like the only one. N’yongo’s performance was actually amazing, complex, layered, difficult, but it feels like nobody cared enough to rave about it too loudly.
The point is, I haven’t seen most of Zellweger’s competition yet, but even with that disclaimer, this performance still feels like a lock for a nomination to me. She definitely deserves it.
The Negatives:
I wish Liza Minelli liked this movie. Maybe once she sees it, she will like it. But I know she’s been kind of vocal about distancing herself from it, saying that she never discussed the project with Renée Zellweger and, “I just hope they don’t do what they always do. That’s all I’ve got to say.”
Minnelli herself is portrayed very positively (and briefly) in the film by Gemma-Leah Devereux. Basically, we learn that Judy feels that Liza’s house is somewhere safe to go, and that Liza loves her mother. I’m pretty sure we all know that Liza loves her mother. That she has made abundantly clear. Nobody in the future will ever study Hollywood and muse, “I wonder if Liza Minnelli loved her mother.” She obviously does, and she’s very protective of her legacy.
I do wonder why projects about Garland always focus on the most depressing, torturous chapters of her life possible. Why do we never get a film on the big screen about the entirety of her life? (Is it because her daughters can’t agree on how she should be portrayed?) Why doesn’t Judy ever get a sweeping, grand, big screen, musical biopic that covers her ups and her downs, like Ray, Walk the Line, even Bohemian Rhapsody?
Although Zellweger (obviously) sings neither as well nor as distinctively as Judy Garland, she does perform marvelously and plays the character with such love, respect, and enthusiasm. I find no real fault with the film, but I do wonder why we never get to see a triumphant, elated Judy Garland, and why this film chooses to focus on such a narrow slice of Garland’s life. I also find myself wishing I knew which details were actually true, and which were composite fantasy. (Is that heart-warming couple who comes to the show every night based on real, specific individuals?)
Overall:
Renée Zellweger gives an Oscar worthy performance as an ailing Judy Garland in a film that is carefully crafted to make us all love her, which is so easy to do. I am positive Zellweger will be nominated for an Oscar, and I think she has a great chance of winning. If you’re a fan of Judy Garland, Renée Zellweger, or the Oscars, you must see this film.
