JUDY is CATS but apparently Academy loves another story about a fallen woman

There is a point in the movie where Judy asks her fifth and last husband ‘What is that you do, anyway, Mickey?’, criticizing his incompetence in negotiating an unlikely deal that has promised her to be financially-secured in the long run.

My question to the movie is: What is that you do, anyway, JUDY? Initially, I was intrigued to see the life of the famous singer/actress/LGBT icon, but I grew furious as the story develops. It is not about acting. I like Renee and her performance is alright. The others okay. But the writing is so awful. I compare JUDY to CATS because they both have a good cast, but the execution is an epic fail. However, the awards season decides unanimously it is the movie for the Best Actress category, and I am dismayed by this decision. For me, JUDY doesn’t deserve a winner because a good acting cannot make up for the fact that it is a degrading, stereotypical, and lazy portrayal of yet another story of a fallen woman. The celebration of it is, therefore, questionable.

Also, like CATS, JUDY demonstrates that not every story is fit for retelling, especially when you can’t figure out a relevant perspective to introduce this story to the contemporary audience. Let’s find out how the writers decide this story should be told.

In the film, the biggest concern for Judy is she cannot be the custodian for her two young kids. She has to make money, not because she loves performing (or she won’t rejoice after learning Mickey’s plan will free her from her job), but because she needs money to be a good mother. Novel isn’t it? Obviously we cannot get enough stories of women desperate to be a good mother while they, in fact, are ill-equipped.

To achieve this goal, Judy works as a resident singer in London, which is good. But notice how she is unprofessional on many levels: she doesn’t rehearse, she puts her business partners in an awkward situation (not that they are nice people), and she is often late. When she should be aiming at making money so that she may fulfill her motherhood (which, as the film suggests, is the only role that gives her peace and happiness), she does the job poorly. But she still needs money and – oh – here comes the rescuer! A man! To rescue the world-renowned Judy Garland, all you need is a young white man from nowhere. How inspiring is that?! How lovely to see Judy desperate for love and gets it?! (Mind, it’s not love for stage.) How refreshing to see a woman falling for man and blinded by love because 1) she’s desperate for money and he promises to get her money 2) she is appreciated by him (Mind, she doesn’t feel appreciated by the audience).

Like everything in the film, the lovers’ break-up is predicable. But who is it to blame for the failure of the union? ‘You!’ shouted Mickey, throwing a glass away. For a second, I am actually convinced by him. The unprofessionalism by Judy certainly provides excuses for Mickey’s failure to seal the deal.

There is a lot of screen time given to Judy’s unprofessionalism; the question then becomes: is professionalism worthy celebrating? Not necessarily so. The film, with its flashbacks of her early career as a child actress in Hollywood, does show the toxic working environment that leaves a long-standing bad impact on her (anorexia, insomnia etc). But the comment on the dark side of professionalism ends there. Instead of serving as an opportunity to reflect on the exploitative nature of show business, the early trauma functions more as a lead to what the film tries hard to demonstrate: that is, Judy does not love stage; in fact, she hates it. In return, the audience does not love her that much. Yes there are two gay men who are devout followers, but there are also boos and things thrown onto the stage from more than two men. This makes the last sentence the director decides to put on the screen saying Judy is ‘loved by others’ all the more weaker and unpersuasive.

The last subtitles remind people Judy passed away six months after her London shows, amplifying and encapsulating the sad mood of the film. In fact, the film is obsessed with showing how miserable Judy is. As a result, it misses tons of opportunities to look into the why. It stops before delving into the details of how Hollywood abuses young actors (what it shows is really no news); it shows how inconsiderate the media (TV show host) is but it does not push further into the area where things are studied more closely. The host asks Judy questions about her not being with her kids and Judy is vulnerable and tormented, with her PR/assistant staring and doing nothing – it feels like this film was doing nothing: it shows the misery and abuses, but it does not feel the obligation to investigate and to engage. It is as if the film-makers were saying: don’t mind the bullies, let’s only look at the victim. The result is erring, an almost voyeuristic view into others’ vulnerability. It feels more insensitive if the later scenes between Judy and her assistant and the pianist guy are to be considered. The assistant is a flat character and there is no connection between Judy and her. Not even a cake can save the situation. The pianist has every reason to reject a lunch with Judy, yet he chooses to be there graciously. Both the assistant and the pianist are condescending. They are like, I am doing my job; you are not cooperating but we still put you in beautiful dresses and take you to fancy dining hall NOW SAY THANK YOU. The film’s take on show business, therefore, is completely perplexing. Although it has opportunities to raise awareness of how Hollywood destroys a talented girl, it is reluctant to do so. Instead, we see the ‘humane’ side of the staffs, regardless of how empty and incoherent their humanity is. Casting a beloved Michael Gambon as a high-end figure of the theatre certainly does not help.

Judy Garland is regarded as an LGBT icon. Some claim that gay men feel an affinity with her because they see themselves in her struggles. There are also people who claim, as time passes, Judy’s icon status slips. Resilience to fight back, rather than being miserable, becomes the quality that gay people identify with more. My problem with the film’s take on the episode between Judy and her gay fans is that it attaches too much importance to how it is misery that ties them together. With the gay community’s changing perception of how they want to be seen, the film’s highlighting ‘the common ground’ feels anachronistic – it feels like we were given something that is no longer needed in today’s conversation. A historical autobiographical film is historical and autobiographical, but it doesn’t mean that creating ‘the past’ is all that needs to be done. Precision in portraying the past is a myth. Every shot is a commentary. What I read from the film is a message that doesn’t fly anymore: that gay community connects with certain celebrities only because they are all treated unfairly by the society. Needless to say, the unfairness exists, but if you want to revoke Judy’s gay icon status, why not find something enabling, empowering and forward-looking, or you can be more reflective: don’t just present the miseries, take an active instead of passive stand: stare at the bullies and ask why.

But isn’t there anything brave about Judy? That brave qualities that people, gay or straight, find inspiring and endearing? It is scandalous that this film doesn’t present any of these; all it does is to show the fifty shades of miseries of Judy (and gay fans). Is that all they have? If that’s all you can think of saying about them, why do we need a film like this?

Not we don’t love a story that assures us celebrities live a shitty life too, but this one is different. This film is about: a woman, abused by an industry that disrespects and abuses women from a young age, fails at something she is good at, only to be told by the society that she fails because it’s her fault – that she sucks at her job, that she is unprofessional, that she has bad taste in men, that she is not a good mother – oh yeah look how serene and stable life her ex-husband has provided the kids with and how can you not believe this?! When this film is about how a woman fall and it’s her fault; when it revokes the classic narrative where a woman’s destiny is chasing someone to love her (husbands or audience), instead of learning to love herself; when such a portrayal is actually celebrated – the whole thing feels like a mimic of the shitty deeds done to Judy, and it’s bad news.