It was 100 years ago this month (10th June 1922) that Frances Ethel Gumm was born in Grand Rapids, Minnesota USA. The Gumm’s were theatre people, vaudevillians to be precise, and they would be pushing Frances onto the stage as early as two alongside elder sisters Mary Jane and Dorothy Virginia. After moving to California, the children starred in 1929’s The Big Revue amongst other shorts as The Gumm Sisters before their parents changed the name to Garland – altered when they were once advertised as The Glum Sisters. Thus, in 1934, the identity Judy Garland was created and she was quickly snapped up by Louis B. Mayer of MGM. Featuring in 28 films within 15 years, including The Wizard of Oz when she was just sixteen, Garland was placed on a concoction of amphetamines and barbiturates alongside a demeaning diet to maintain a consistent look and output. Already suffering from severe confidence and self-esteem issues, these difficulties were exacerbated after turning eighteen, getting entangled in several toxic relationships with co-stars and coerced into having abortions by the studio. Once Meet Me In St Louis was released, she married the 42 year old director Vicente Minelli and had her first child Liza, all within 3 years. At this point, Garland’s mental health and addictions had spiralled, with several suicide attempts resulting in the dissoultion of her MGM contract as well as her marriage. Yet, this did not prevent her from acting in 1954’s A Star is Born nor her own TV series The Judy Garland Show in 1961, but further divorces and agents mismanaging her finances left Garland homeless and heavily in debt.
Surprisingly, this is where the 2019 movie Judy starts, being kicked out of a hotel she can no longer afford after performing with her two children Lorna and Joey Luft (Bella Ramsey & Lewin Lloyd). This break in convention from traditional biopics allows for deeper insights into a part of her career people are less familiar with. It also successfully sets the tone for the rest of the film as there’s no clicking of the heels to save Dorothy this time. When her ex-husband Sid Luft (Rufus Sewell) insists on giving his children a normal life, Garland is persuaded by her agent to start singing again in London, the only place that seemingly wants her back. Confidence boosted by new love interest Mickey Deans (Finn Wittrock), Judy flies across the Atlantic to make her big comeback. Unfortunately, performing again brings up past traumatic experiences with Louis B. Mayer (Richard Cordery), preventing her from breaking out of self-destructive habits. Can she manage to pull out consistent concerts, earn enough for her family and stay on the rails?
What is already an incredibly bleak subject matter is emphasised by the director Rupert Goold‘s close shots, dim lighting and overall grimy scene palettes – especially in London. There’s also a lot of silence in between performances, breaking biopic convention again when not even a sad song is played to lessen the audience’s discomfort. The only levity comes from Judy herself, portrayed excellently by Renée Zellweger. Always putting on a show when socialising at parties or in public, the script (written by Tom Edge, adapted from Peter Quilter’s End Of The Rainbow) is sharp with biting one-liners shot from the hip. Incredibly witty and quick but also poignant and caring, the range on display makes it very difficult not to fall for the character. The built-up anticipation before hearing Zellweger sing just to see her knock it out of the park is reward for watching by itself, let alone the heartbreaking moments we’re taken on along the way. A layered character with a tour de force showcase deservedly earns Zellweger the Best Actress Oscar at the 2020 Academy Awards. However, with Zellweger’s Judy being the sole focus on centre stage, the narratives with the supporting cast are mixed. The strongest bonds developed in the film are with a superfan couple Dan & Stan (Andy Nyman & Daniel Cerquira), personifying Garland’s influence inside the LGBTQ+ community. Yet billed second as Rosalyn Wilder, Garland’s personal assistant, Jessie Buckley is a fantastic actress left only to look anxious and wringing her hands with stress. Her arc of befriending the star is a little too subtle for such a prominent character that always seemed on the cusp of stealing a scene.
They’ve also snuck in a 30 second cameo of mid-twenties Liza (Gemma-Leah Devereux), who’s already working in theatres and producing albums at the time. Whilst obviously a significant part of Garland’s life, it poses a question of consent when Minelli is still alive and didn’t have any involvement. Posting on Facebook that she had never met or spoken to Zellweger nor sanctioned the production, should this film have even been made? There’s a consistent trend of understandably furious celebrities unwillingly portrayed in biopics, especially when they’ve strayed from the truth for creative licence. This broadens the topic to the rising trend of true crime documentaries and podcasts, exploiting horrific events for content and airing real people’s trauma for everyone to see. A systemic issue that won’t be resolved anytime soon, at least what the film accomplishes is a break in the mould of a male dominated genre. The only female-lead musical biopic I could find from the last couple of decades not behind a paywall, Judy provides an important representation for women and further exposes their treatment in Hollywood, the film industry, and life in general.