JUDY (2019) FILM REVIEW

****

12A, 117 Mins

Renee Zellwegar is a tour de force in this fantastical biopic.

I risk any respect as a potential film critic being snuffed over the rainbow by stating my dislike of 'The Wizard of Oz' (1939) which's unintentionally creepy special effects, cringey songs and nauseating production design have regularly had my burying my head in my hands!

It's with great surprise and smiles then that I loved 'Judy' (2019) - a fantastical concoction which brilliantly blurs the line between fantasy and fact in the manner of the delightful 'Saving Mr. Banks' (2013).

On paper, this film reads like a by-the-numbers biopic portraying the iconic singer-actress in the last days of her life; riddled by drink, drugs and domestic abuse as the titular Judy Garland (portrayed with typically skin-inhabiting finesse by an unrecognisable Renee Zellweger) prepares for a series of sold-out concerts in the winter of 1968 London.

Like 'Rocketman' (2019), though, this tried and tested formula is spiced up with a welcome dose of fantasia through flashbacks of the faded musician and movie star as a scared, 14 year old youngster on the set of 'Oz'.

It is here that the triumph of Director Rupert Goold's film truly shines through in its ability to appeal to an audience with little love for the beloved source material; exposing the darkness behind a family-friendly musical.

In many ways, 'Judy's poisonous portrait of fame owes an unforeseen debt to Brady Corbet's 'Vox Lux' (2019) from earlier this year. Specifically in its suggestion that childhood trauma is the tipping point towards the well-documented sex, drugs and rock n' roll lifestyle associated with the entertainment industry. Despite the 30s setting, the chilling interactions between the young Garland and Weinstein-esque studio boss Louis B. Mayer (Richard Cordery) couldn't feel more cruelly contemporary in relation to the horrific tales of sexual harassment that have spooled into the spotlight since 2017.

In a movie that utterly rests on Zellweger's square shoulders, complete praise must go to Darci Shaw who movingly gets to the tortured heart of the young Garland; breathing life into a little girl thrown into the deep end of Hollywood vacuity with zero way back up to the surface. This very symbolism splashes during a fabulist scene in which Judy dives deep into a pool and holds her breath beneath the water as the cinematography hones in on her vacant gazes simmering with dream-like visual flourish.

That traumatized "little girl" ego still seeps through the tiniest gestures of Zellweger's tour de force turn that once again - on paper - screams your typical screamy "GIVE ME AN OSCAR" performance yet is embedded with a nuance and innocence usually missing from acting of this kind.

The result is a winning mix of music and personal drama that heartbreakingly documents human self-destruction while absolutely playing to the widest possible crowd.