Judy Garland

Interviews preamble:  I’ve always admired people that interview famous people really well.  Remember Brian Linehan, Canadian readers?  Annoying that he could be, he would set up really telling questions with his huge preambles, researched to the hilt, and you could see the guests blown away by what he knew about them.  Or James Lipton of ‘Inside the Actors Studio’, with his big stack of blue cards, touching actors’ hearts by the depth of his questions.  And then there are the hundreds of lousy interviews, which I watch and think, ‘why are you wasting their time with your superficial chatter?  Why aren’t you asking these people questions I really want to ask? ‘  So came this idea, which would be a ‘what if I could sit and interview some truly famous people that I have admired’.  It’s a little half-baked in that it’s just questions, without answers.  But as is the theme of this blog, I gotta get em out there, just because.  So, to inaugurate what I hope will be a series…I start with the one and only….Judy Garland.

Studio shot circa 1940s, from divasthesite.com

Judy, I have to begin with a confession.  Before I met my partner (of eight years, now), I didn’t know much about you beyond the Wizard of Oz.  My mother was not a fan of musicals, and my dad preferred Westerns, so there was no reason for our paths to cross.  My partner, on the other hand, knew all about you before his early 20s, and has been a die-hard fan ever since.  He has introduced me to your huge talent; your range, your humour, your fame, your struggles, and a lot of the little minutae that brings a person to life.

And now I can say that I’m an avid fan too, but more than that – I feel like I understand something about you, something so familiar.  You quickly have become a kindred spirit, even though my image of you is a construction of your movies, your music, your interviews and the interviews of people who knew you.  Your bio-pic from Lorna’s book reduced me to sobbing, so familiar were the demons you fought.  So I have to ask you…how many times have you heard that before?

Judy answers..

But really, there is something so open about your performances, whether on film, on the stage, on television, and your interviews, both on radio and television, that suggests to me that you are not an enigma on stage, not wearing a mask.  It’s more like you are opening a window to let yourself pour out, and we can see so much of you in everything you do.  I hope that you take that as a compliment, but I have to wonder – is it an on-stage Judy we are seeing, and the off-stage Judy is taking a break?  I mean, when you are out there, do you feel more like you slip into a persona or character, that you slip off at the end of the day?

Judy laughs (I hope), and tries to set me straight…

So, maybe I’m way off the mark then when I see the true pleasure the real, behind-the-scenes Judy, derives from performing, and I’m touched by maybe a hint of the real-life vulnerabilites you may carry, and the true strength and determination that have brought you to where you are.  I doubt that that’s true, because I’ve heard enough artists comment on your drive and sparkle in your work. Many great actors say that their best performances are when they are closest to themselves, and I wonder – from your Vaudeville days, and then through the MGM days and on to the concert stage, have you ever considered a method of acting, or has it been more straightforward – do it right, and get on with it?

Judy scoffs at ‘the Method’ and carries on…

What about singing, Judy?  A friend who played piano for opera singers described what singing was for the greatest artists: he said to them it just felt physically so good to sing.  When things are working, and you have a really good song to sing, how does it feel?  I get the impression that it’s a real power-wave you’re riding, judging from some of your live performance tapes.  Is it a workout, or is it like riding the surf on some big waves, or maybe more like flying on adrenalin?  Or do you even think about that, or want to think about it?

Judy hesistates to give up a trade secret, then elaborates…

I’m guessing (I really should have read a biography or two) your musical training was from your family, and then your work with the music men at MGM, and a lot comes from your natural ear and ability.  I wonder sometimes what goes on in your mind as you sing, because the phrases you put out are always so expertly shaped and shaded.  I know when I’ve performed, I would find myself visualizing the shape of the music, but I would get hung up on the sound I was producing.  I wonder what you focus on – is it the words in a song, or is it the sound you are making, or is it the feel?

Judy would or would not say something like ‘I just sing’…

Judy, as much as I could talk all day about making music, I want to turn back to something about you that’s bothered me since I’ve gotten to know your work.  There is so much talk about the ups and downs in your life, your fight with drugs, your fights with the studios.  So many of them that say negative things about those aspects of your life really didn’t get what you were up against, did they?  I mean, I think I really understand something about you that I’m not sure how I got – it’s the fear that even though you’re told you’ve done good, or you’ll do good, that somehow you won’t measure up.  Or is it that you really, really want to be loved, and yet you fear that somehow you’re going to be left alone?  There is something truly vulnerable and fragile in you that so many people seemed to dismiss or whitewash, or simply didn’t see or understand?  They took you at face value, and didn’t look at the back pages of your story.  Is that even close to being true?

..Judy maybe stalls…

Ok, for instance – Mickey Rooney.  I know how close you were, growing up together in the heat of the MGM lights, weathering the studio publicity machine together, all that time as a team.  Whenever I hear him speak of you, I get the distinct impression that he settled on a picture of you that really isn’t truth, but his calcified version of what he saw.  He speaks of love for you, and then blames only you for the drugs.  He claims you were more than a sister, and yet I really doubt he saw you beyond his own ego’s distortion of you.  Of all the friends in Hollywood, I never get a sincere feeling from him about you, to the point that I want to yell back at him, ‘You didn’t really bother to get to know her, did you?’  Now, I’m sure you will defend him forever, but if you felt safe enough to say it, would you agree with any of what I’ve said?

At this point, Judy may be tempted to be done with me, but…

I would never want to put your sense of loyalty to the test, and I’m sorry for having asked a question that puts you on the spot.  There are people from Hollywood that I truly believe knew you – like June Allison.  Now there’s a woman that has feeling for you – for your talent, for your humour, and for the dramas that you’ve faced.  I think she really knew you, and all of you, not just the bits and pieces she chose to accept.  I have to put that out there, because it’s those people that present to the world not only the true talent that is captured on film, video and recording, but the incredible human being that worked hard to weather a pretty vicious storm.  You are some kind of lady, and I never would want to hear your name sullied.

…Judy sits back in her chair…

So, I should lighten up a bit here.  I’ve heard from others what an incredible professional you were – you could learn lines, choreography, songs, staging, in a blink of an eye.  I’ve watched all the rough cuts of the ‘Mr. Monotony’ number from “Easter Parade“, and I’m amazed at how you hit every mark and every move in every take, with spot-on lip-synching to the playback. I’ve watched in pride many times how you could keep up move for move with Gene Kelly’s dancing in ‘For Me and My Gal’ and ‘The Pirate’.  How did you do it so well?  Is that Vaudeville training again, and a lot of sweat?  It seems so effortless…

Hopefully, a nice tangent and story about finding and working with Gene Kelly…

It’s incredible to watch your work, and to hear so many say what an immense talent you show.  And yet I always get the impression that behind it all, a part of you won’t accept that it’s any good at all.  Do you have those moments – where you think about whether you’ll be found out – that you’ve faked it all and now the jig is up?

I should leave it here, Judy.  It’s hard to think of more questions to ask, when you aren’t here to answer them.  I wish you were still here – it hurts that the storms around you got too fierce for you to weather, and because of that I will never have a chance to talk to you. I have thought that the next best thing would be to sit with Liza or Lorna or Joe and talk about you with them, but even then it would be their version of you.  So, then, I’m reduced to this – with a hope that somehow, through the cosmic ether, you’ll hear me.  And maybe, somehow,  I’ll hear you.

We miss you, Judy.  Thank you for being here.