Judy Garland was one of the most tragic figures to emerge from 20th century Hollywood. The precociously talented, archetypal child entertainer, from infancy onwards she was manipulated and shunted from pillar to post—firstly by a domineering mother, Ethel Gumm. In as much as Judy in turn loved and despised her mother, so she was devoted to her father, Frank—so much so that when he died suddenly, just as she was on the cusp of fame, she would spend many years searching for a replacement father figure by way of lovers and husbands: bandleaders Artie Shaw and David Rose, directors Joseph Mankiewicz and Vincente Minnelli, and show business entrepreneur Sid Luft.
Then there were the studio moguls. Judy’s treatment at the hands of Louis B Mayer, a parsimonious and devious man with a penchant for under-aged girls, defies belief. When casting her in The Wizard of Oz, the film that set her firmly on the pathway to eternal worldwide fame, Mayer, in a selfish attempt to keep her in the public eye for as long as possible—convinced that her star would not be long in fading, and wishing to squeeze as much out of her before this happened—forced her to take pills to keep her awake, pills to make her sleep, pills to control her weight—an addiction which lasted her whole life. When she became ill because he had pushed her too far, her reward—rather than let her rest—was to have her committed to a mental institution, with Judy herself picking up the tab. When she married for the first time and fell pregnant, her husband was not even brought into the equation—Mayer and Ethel Gumm forced her to have an abortion, declaring that being pregnant would hinder her work-schedule. Unable to cope with such avoidable pressure, then and further down the track, there were several suicide attempts. Yet Judy managed to survive each ordeal. And when Mayer was ultimately warned by her doctors of the dangers of working her far too hard, his reaction was not to offer her support, but to fire her from MGM. Effectively, this turned out for the best, though no one knew this at the time—for it led to Judy embarking on a secondary career as a recital artiste, joining the ranks of Maria Callas, Edith Piaf and Marlene Dietrich in delivering some of the most spectacular performances in show business history, across Northern America and in Europe. Now, she was able to actually see and communicate with her fans—most of them gay men—who were so devoted to her that, had she asked, they would have given her their last breath. Indeed, gay men were almost Judy’s life-blood. Her father, three of her husbands, and several of her lovers were what would later be lovingly categorised as ‘friends of Dorothy’, in honour of the role she had played in The Wizard of Oz—while the rainbow of her most famous song would become their special emblem.
From Dorothy to Jenny Bowman, by way of Vicki Lester and Irene Hoffman—stopping off at the New York Palace, the London Palladium, Carnegie Hall and the Paris Olympia—Judy thrilled millions and, decades after her death, the Garland legend remains stronger than ever.
I met several people who knew and worked with Judy, and they all described her the same way—an absolute blaze of talent, warm and charismatic, witty and engaging. As an artiste, a devoted mother and as a human being, she was unique. This is her story.
Contains a 64-page discography of shellac and vinyl recordings issued during Judy’s lifetime, along with posthumous, previously unreleased material.
