There is very little worth discussing about "Judy" apart from Renée Zellweger and her Oscar-nominated central performance. It is a film that lives and dies by it.
The key reason for the movie's mundane performance falls squarely on writing. Had Zellweger been given something more substantial to work with, her transformation into Hollywood icon Judy Garland would have been less one note and not as angry.
Director Rupert Goold's film certainly pays attention to the costumes and the makeup and all the superficial stuff, but it would have been better had the movie explored the tragedy of Garland's terribly short life with equal conviction.
Watch the trailer of the movie "Judy" here
Goold takes the most predictable and least imaginative route in telling her story — launching into flashbacks to Garland's youth at the drop of a hat, and highlighting her victimhood instead of celebrating her resilience.
While Zellweger blankets Garland with thick melancholy, "Judy", the film, is as dispassionate as a dry Wikipedia page.
Every awards season throws up prestige dramas such as this, stuffed with overdramatic clips that are perfectly suited to be aired during the ceremonies. Tom Hooper has made a career out of directing such films.
Recontexualised as a post-MeToo parable, however, "Judy" transforms into something more relevant, and despite itself, even frighteningly urgent.
Studio head Louis B Mayer's creepy interactions with a teenage Garland evoke some of those horrible accounts of Harvey Weinstein's alleged behaviour.
And in certain scenes, especially one in which her agent suggests Garland visit a doctor, it seems as if Zellweger is channelling some sort of personal experience, in which she, too, was given orders by powerful white men.
Garland was used and discarded by an industry that we all give way too much respect and importance to.
She didn't deserve it. But neither did she deserve a biopic as plain as this.