Renee makes it worth it

Johnson Thomas

Judy Garland, the much loved pre-teen who sang and danced her way into our hearts with The Wizard of Oz, is not the one we see in this biopic titled Judy. She is 47 years old, it’s been 30 years since her heyday, her voice has weakened and the struggle to stay above water is taking a heavy toll on her psyche.

She (Renee Zellweger), saddled with two loving and caring kids, Lorna and Joe, has to make her way back into the big bad world of showbiz after her last husband Sid (Rufus Sewell) failed to manage her messed-up affairs and work up some magic, as promised. So in the winter of 1968, Judy is forced to go on a tour to London (where she is still held dear) to perform a five-week sold-out run at The Talk of the Town. As her minders try to ensure some discipline in her routine, Judy embarks on another ill-fated romance, with a decade younger Mickey Deans (Finn Wittrock), her soon-to-be fifth husband. She’s not young and radiant anymore and her all-time hits Somewhere Over the Rainbow or The Trolley Song, though evocative, don’t have that magic of yore.

The narrative takes us through those few months encapsulating her battles with the management, her relationship with musicians and her dealings with friends, fans and paparazzi. Through it all we are treated to an intricately measured performance by the lead actress. Renee goes all out, wielding twitchy, anxious, insecurities as Judy veers towards her swansong. Everything else fades into the background as Renee’s Judy calls attention to her childhood trauma, exploitation by studio bosses, addictions, humiliations and inability to vanquish those demons along the route to an untimely, tragic demise at age 47. The audience is treated to uncomfortable streaks of childhood trauma as young Judy (Darci Shaw) is forced to take pills, disallowed from eating burgers and playing truant, with every action controlled by MGM mogul Louis B. Mayer for years.

Director Rupert Goold’s performance oriented enumeration of Judy’s final moments adapted by Tom Edge based on the stageplay End of the Rainbow by Peter Quilter, is distressing but also unfulfilling. While watching the film, you get the feeling that Renee Zellweger’s impressive impersonation of the star is the only thing that matters here. That’s how lovingly intimate the camerawork is. Zellweger even performed the songs herself and she is impressive even if rest of the film is not.