Month: March 2016

Judy Garland

The brightest star to emerge from MGM’s golden age was Judy Garland! Her voice conveys such emotional depth that you can’t help but be captivated. This exceptional quality was present even when she was a child. Couple this with her innate acting abilities and charisma, and you have showbusiness gold. I don’t know when I first became aware of Judy, because I don’t remember a time when I haven’t enjoyed watching her films or listening to her music.

 

Judy was born Frances Ethel Gumm, into a Vaudevillian family in Grand Rapids Minnesota on the 10th of June 1922. By all accounts her father was also a wonderful singer. From the age of three she performed in The Gumm Sisters trio with her older sisters. Throughout her childhood she learned her craft on the circuit and at dance classes, and being supremely talented became the focus of the act. Although the family moved to Los Angeles seeking opportunities to work in film, perhaps it was inevitable that Judy would be successful.

Judy’s voice exuded purity and innocence during her adolescence, as epitomised in Somewhere Over The Rainbow from 1939’s The Wizard Of Oz. Blessed with an astonishing vocal range, when she was a young woman her sound matured. This is exemplified by her performances in 1942’s For Me And My Gal, 1944’s Meet Me In St. Louis, 1946’s The Harvey Girls, 1948’s Easter Parade, and 1950’s Summer Stock.

 

Judy’s vocal powers reached their peak during the 1950s and 1960s when she started recording with Capitol Records. One of my favourite albums is The Best Of The Capitol Masters – The London Sessions. During this period she also toured in worldwide concerts; notably at the London Palladium, Palace Theatre, and Carnegie Hall.

Towards the end of her career, Judy’s voice diminished in stature but she retained her ability for storytelling. This is embodied in her poignant rendition of Why Can’t I? from the CD Classic Judy Garland The Capitol Years: 1955 – 1965. Listening to it as I’m writing this post almost brings tears to my eyes. Even when she was below par Judy ran rings round other entertainers.

After her MGM contract ended, Judy made a comeback appearance as Esther Blodgett/Vicki Lester in 1954’s A Star Is Born, alongside James Mason portraying Norman Maine. I think it’s her finest film performance! The Man That Got Away is breathtakingly brilliant, it’s as though she’s singing for her life. The Born In A Trunk sequence is like a standalone showcase.

The plot concerns an alcoholic actor Norman and an aspiring performer Esther. He meets her after she saves him from embarrassing himself whilst drunk, and there’s an immediate connection. Norman recognises Esther’s talent and gives her the confidence to aim higher. It pays off when a studio gives her the stage name Vicki Lester for her debut lead role. Ironically this is when it becomes apparent that Norman’s career could stall.

 

They get married, but problems begin when her star is in the ascent and his alcoholism deteriorates. The situation worsens when Vicki receives critical acclaim, and she feels torn between her personal life and her professional life. On more than one occasion Norman humiliates himself publicly, destroying his career in the process. Finally he drowns himself because he feels he’s an obstacle to Vicki’s success. Norman believes this act will allow her to fulfil her potential.

Much has been written about Judy’s battle with drugs. This addiction was created in her at a young age by others wanting to keep her working for inhumanely long hours. Child exploitation of that nature would be illegal today. Judy endures because she had exceptional talent yet lived a tumultuous life. This contradiction can be really appealing. Quite simply she’s beyond compare.

Vivien Leigh

A tremendous presence and alluring feline features describe Vivien Leigh perfectly. Born on the 5th of November 1913 in colonial India, she was a fine stage and screen English actress. (As a child her mother said the fireworks were in her honour). Vivien’s acting abilities were overshadowed by her breathtaking beauty early on in her career, and marred by manic depression and tuberculosis during her later career.

 

In England her early education was at a convent school. Her family travelled for a few years so she attended various schools throughout Europe, and became multi-lingual, before returning to England. Vivien enrolled at RADA, but left her studies aged nineteen to marry Leigh Holman with whom she had a daughter Suzanne. Her second husband was Laurence Olivier.

Vivien gave an outstanding performance as faded Southern belle Blanche DuBois in 1951’s A Streetcar Named Desire. She had played the role on the West End stage in 1949. Whilst on holiday in New Orleans I visited the location where Tennessee Williams wrote this play. The film was directed by Elia Kazan and co-starred Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter, and Karl Malden. Vivien earned herself an Academy Award, yet it was a stark contrast to Southern belle Scarlett O’Hara from 1939’s Gone With The Wind, for which she also won an Oscar.

Vivien conveys Blanche’s fragile, vulnerable yet excitable nature perfectly, and the steamy setting of busy New Orleans adds much to the atmosphere. Blanche’s suitcase of precious possessions reflect a deluded woman clinging to the past, at odds with the reality of her situation and the modern world. Her body language displays a constant struggle to maintain the facade of respectability.

Although I think Vivien was too young for the part, I always find her so believable and entrancing. Especially during the heartbreaking later scenes when Blanche has a complete breakdown after being raped by Stanley. She said this particular character took it’s toll on her mental health, which proves how seriously she took this work. Perhaps identifying too closely with the character’s emotional instability, loss of youth and beauty, nymphomaniac tendencies, and desire for refinement.

 

I’m also fond of the 1940 drama Waterloo Bridge in which Vivien played Myra Lester, a ballerina who falls in love with captain Roy Cronin during World War One, turns to prostitution to survive, and ultimately commits suicide. Apparently this was her favourite film role. She relishes the opportunity to progress from a naive young woman, who matures by finding love, then becomes disillusioned as her world dissolves around her.

 

The couple meet on Waterloo bridge during an air raid and feel an instant attraction. Myra invites him to that evening’s performance. Their assignations are thwarted by wartime obligations and the strict ballet mistress, which prevents them from marrying immediately. In his absence, Roy entrusts Myra to the care of his family. Myra’s desire for a life outside ballet means she’s fired along with her dancer friend Kitty who defends her. Work is scarce, and when Myra receives misinformation of Roy’s death she loses hope and becomes sick. Kitty becomes a prostitute to support them, and Myra decides to join her on the streets.

While plying her trade at Waterloo station, a shocked Myra sees Roy who’s home on leave. He wonders how she knew to expect him and there’s a short lived chance of rectifying the situation. They visit the family pile in Scotland where Myra’s sense of betrayal mounts. Guilt prevents her from telling Roy how she’s been living. He’d put her on a pedestal and she now feels unworthy, so runs away to London. Roy searches for Myra with Kitty’s help but she’s determined not to be found. The film comes full circle when Myra at her lowest point commits suicide on Waterloo bridge, the same place where her happiness began.