Judy

“Fame has a price” is a statement uttered so much, it’s almost lost its meaning. It seems that everyone knows that the grass is rarely greener for celebrities. This is not a new phrase either; the early stars of Hollywood had to go through many of the same things modern-day actors have had to suffer through now: drugs, alcohol, lack of privacy, and harassment in the workplace.

Little Dorothy Gale herself, Judy Garland, was the textbook example of such a star. Her battles with depression and bad relationships have been known for years, but haven’t been given the proper film treatment until now with Judy, where one of the best actresses of our time gets to fill in those ruby slippers.

In 1968, after nearly thirty years of being a slave to fame, Judy Garland is a mother to three children (Liza, Lorna, and Bobby), fighting tooth and claw for them in a custody battle with her ex-husband, Sidney Luft. She reluctantly agrees to perform in a series of concerts in London’s Talk of the Town nightclub to provide for them, even if it means she'll be separated from them. Even as she gets to belt out the songs that made her famous, her commitment to her fans and her loved ones (both with her children and her new boyfriend, Mickey Deans) is put to the test as memories come flooding in and her lifelong struggles with substance abuse and depression reach their peak.

As a film about the downsides as an entertainer, it doesn’t break much new ground in how it tells its story. Flashbacks occur exactly when you assume they would, embarrassments happen to our lead in front of the press, and she has to shed tears in extreme close-ups in scenes that feel like they were invented by the writers for the sake of drama.

It could easily have been a dull movie that just goes through the motions if it weren’t for its star. Renee Zellwegger brilliantly captures Judy’s sweetness, honesty, sense of humor, and passion for admiring and being admired in return. I almost instantly fell in love with her as a performer, a mother, a romantic, and even as a hero for gay people in a time when they desperately needed one.

Much like Joker, albeit in a much less nihilistic way, we are forced to see all the tragedy, abuse, and disappointment that our main character feels in her pursuit for meaning and love, even in her youth (where she’s played by an equally good newcomer, Darci Shaw) when she is handed pills to sleep and avoid high-calorie food, forced to celebrate her sweet sixteen two months early, and placed in pretend dates with Mickey Rooney, all arranged by her mother and MGM’s patriarch, Louis B. Mayer. Even if you already know the heartache and turmoil she went through, to see it unfold is still difficult and provides some gut punches thanks to Zellwegger's performance.

But what makes Mrs. Garland (or Frances Ethel Gumm as her real name was) such an endearing character is how she rolls with the punches and goes on with her singing, even with crippling stage fright. Her onstage performances feel cathartic as her emotions are felt in every one of them, with one song in particular (you know the one) done in a way in which you’ll never hear it the same way again, afterward.

You may not remember Judy because of how it tells its story, but you will remember it because of its star (or stars in this case). It’s a beautiful and fitting tribute that may just hit the beats but does it so well with a woman who has earned it so much, you won’t care.