Judy is an anomaly of a film. On one hand, it’s a run-of-the-mill entertainment biopic that doesn’t venture out of the taut thematic territory we’ve come to expect from these kinds of films. On the other hand, it’s a remarkably restrained portrayal of one of the most famous entertainers to ever live, executed with a swift fragility that narrowly avoids excessive sentimentality in its intention to look at the final months in the life of a true legend. Judy is not so much a film I adored as much as I respected it, for a number of reasons. The quieter style, the attention placed on only one specific portion of the life of the subject, and more than anything else, the dynamic leading performance that not only brought the titular character to life, but served as the comeback role for one of the most magnetic screen presences of all time, someone who has been sorely missed from cinema for far too long, and returns roaring with a ferocity very few of us ever expected. By no means a perfect film, and one that does falter in some regards, especially those that align this with the countless other films that trod almost identical narrative territory, if we just focus on Judy and it’s overriding intentions to explore the final stages of a true icon’s life, we can understand that even when not achieving all its potential, it’s an entertaining, heartfelt and ultimately tender portrayal – of a performer, but also of a woman, which is where the film finds most of its heart and succeeds the most.

Rupert Goold, in adapting the play End of the Rainbow, brings life to Judy Garland and her story, but only one particular chapter of it. This is not the biographical exposé that takes aim at a beloved public figure in an attempt to show their daily trials and tribulations, avoiding the tendency of this sub-genre of film to focus on the rise and fall of a particular individual. Judy is, in frank terms, restricted entirely to the “fall”, as it situates itself right at the peak of Garland’s decline – it begins in a tragic way, with the performer being forced to perform on stage with her children as a way of revitalizing her career and presenting herself in a way audiences hadn’t seen before, for only small amounts of money far less than she was used to earning (which she graciously accepts – of everything we can say about Garland and her portrayal in this film, we can never call her mean-spirited), and ends on a more hopeful, but nonetheless downbeat note. Judy is an honest exploration of the life of one of cinema’s great talents, someone who not only rose to become one of the most famous figures in entertainment history, she helped define it overall. There are few that embody the idea of being a performer more than her, which is why this film is such a marvel – never trying to soften the blow of her very tragic life, it navigates challenging narrative territory in a way that tells a story that is truthful without losing any of its bewitching charms. The merits of this film come not only in how it subverts the practices common in this genre, but also how it embraces some of the most indelible qualities, making them its own, and never quite wavering from the honesty that Peter Quilter was committed to bringing to life with his stage show, which has continued into this film, which may not be the most lucid story of Garland’s life, but it still respectful and heartfelt, which is sometimes more than we can ask for when it comes to these kinds of films.

Judy does stand in considerable defiance to some of the more taut qualities of the musical biopic, and while it wouldn’t be right to call it revolutionary, it does approach the material in a slightly different way. The film, like the stage play, is set in 1969, only a few months before Garland’s death. A faded star forced to take low-paying gigs simply to keep herself and her children afloat, she is no longer in demand, and is essentially homeless. She is given the opportunity to perform a series of shows in London, which may not be sufficient to keep her comfortable forever, but is at least steady enough for her to actively work towards supporting her family. Judy is not the cradle-to-grave biographical film that many films in this genre tend to be, and is rather a snapshot of a very specific moment in her life, interspersed with some flashbacks to her earlier years as a rising star, not so much as to portray her entire career, but rather how the past has indelibly impacted her and the person she has become. The film does admirably avoid becoming too saccharine, and some would consider it to even be a bit too flippant to Garland, often portraying her as neither a victim nor a perpetrator, but rather a deeply tragic individual who suffers massively, and ultimately meets a tragic demise. Yet, this film isn’t so much about the scandalous details of Garland’s personal life, or how this was the essentially the end of her career (which is only indicated in a post-script, as the actual ending to the film is quite upbeat in a very melancholy way). Judy is just intent on getting beneath the surface of Garland as an individual, presenting us with the recreation of a small part of her life as a way of showing some of the challenges she had to overcome.

If there were two names that I’d have never thought would be spoken in the same breath, it would be Judy Garland and Renée Zellweger – yet, they come together in such a beautiful way, it would be foolish to consider this performance as being anything less than a truly compelling return to form for an actress who made such an incredible impact earlier in her career before retreating from the spotlight. Zellweger returns here, making a grand entrance very few people making a comeback could ever hope to give. Judy presents the actress with the chance to once again prove her mettle as a performer, and she truly gives a tour-de-force performance in how she brings Garland to life. There are two categories of successful biopic performances – those that are all about the transformation, whether the result of actual physical change or prosthetics and those where the personality or characteristics of the individual is the focus, rather than the appearance (normally reserved for those subjects less in the public eye). Zellweger’s performance here belongs to an elite group that captures both of them perfectly, with the actress transforming into Garland with such eerie accuracy, both physically and in how she captures the spirit of the entertainment icon. This isn’t so much about imitation as it is about embodying every facet of the subject, and while the film around her can be somewhat flimsy at times, we can’t deny that Zellweger is doing some of her strongest work playing Garland, embodying the subject with such authenticity, it’s sometimes difficult to find fault in any of her choices. Moreover, while most would expect this film as the chance for a performer to exercise their right to excess (because this sub-genre is one of the few instances where going over-the-top isn’t only allowed, but actively encouraged), Judy defies it, rather giving Zellweger the chance to play a true icon, without going too far, paying the proper tribute to a woman who deserved all the respect this film presents her with.

The film portrays Judy not only as a performer but as someone who extends beyond her talents. Many similar films tend to peer beneath the veneer of fame, portraying their subjects as not being limited to their public persona. That definitely continues with Judy, which keeps everything remarkably restrained, never defying the common practice that somewhat propels the sub-genre of the entertainment biopic, but still going further than we’d have anticipated. Judy is a compassionate film – it doesn’t really intend to paint Garland as some larger-than-life legend, but rather as someone who suffered greatly throughout life, never more so than in her final months. The film isn’t afraid to deglamourize her life, but not in a way that incites pity, but rather evokes empathy for her. There’s a lot of loneliness in this film, and Garland takes the form of a tragic figure – it does certainly touch on the peak of her career, and the magnificent fame she experienced throughout her life. Zellweger’s passionate performance of “The Trolley Song” and “Over the Rainbow” in different parts of the film are truly extraordinary, not only for how compelling they are but also because the underlying emotion, where they briefly refer to better times, is truly captivating.  This point in Garland’s life was not her happiest – her children were an ocean away, her career was almost non-existent, and not even the few adoring fans she still had were enough to overcome her personal challenges. Yet, even at her lowest, she still put on a show, which is why Garland, despite her tragic life towards the end, remained someone whose dedication to performance was nothing if not utterly admirable.

Judy is a balancing act of a film – aside from the wonderful leading performance by Zellweger, it does deal with some challenging tropes and often doesn’t quite come out unscathed, especially when we consider how this was a film that did, for the most part, tend to align itself with some of the more common qualities of the musical biography. The difference is that it did seem somewhat self-aware, and even though it didn’t really attempt to subvert them, it did approach these characteristics with some kind of nuance, so as not to fall victim to them in a way that would ruin the film. It is an undeniable fact that Judy is a sentimental film, but it isn’t one that feels overwrought or too calculated in its emotion. Rather, its something made with sincere affection for its subject, which is probably why there is a near-complete lack of hysterics and scandal throughout the film. This may not be the sweeping Hollywood epic that Garland’s life probably deserves, but it is a very respectful and genuine journey into understanding her as an individual. It may be a conventional affair, but it’s far from heavy-handed, and while it may not work all the time, it remains a relatively heartwarming film, one that does mean well, even when its imperfections, such as the strict adherence to a certain structure, threaten to overwhelm the more experimental features that tend to appear sporadically. Ultimately, it’s a touching portrait of Judy Garland, featuring the best work Zellweger has done in over a decade and is as tender a portrait of the subject as we’ve gotten yet, and while it may be a heartbreaking film, its honesty and commitment to telling Garland’s story, positioning her as neither a hero nor a victim, is admirable, and a worthy tribute to a true icon.