How Does Judy Deal With Judy Garland’s Tragic Death?

We don’t actually see Judy Garland (Renee Zellweger) die in Judy, but we get the sense it’s imminent. Death lurks everywhere Rupert Goold’s biopic. It’s in the way she tosses and turns in bed as chronic insomnia holds her in its grip. It’s in the pills she pops to cope with stress, uncertainty, stage fright and exhaustion. It’s in her doctor’s eyes as he tells her that she’s underweight, after days spent without eating. And indeed, a note before the end credits start to roll informs us that Garland would be found dead in her London bathroom by fifth husband Mickey Deans six months after her final show at the Talk of the Town cabaret. She was only 47 years old. The death was ruled an accidental overdose — she had ingested so many barbiturates over time that they built up in her bloodstream, eventually killing her. 

But while Judy isn’t about Garland’s physical death, it is, in a way, about her spiritual one. When we first meet her, she’s already on the decline. Broke and essentially homeless, she’s dragging her young kids to cheap gigs for a quick payday — anything to try to pay off the massive debts and back taxes she owes. In a moment of desperation, she shows up at a party thrown by her daughter Liza Minelli (Gemma-Leah Devereux) —  where she meets New York entrepreneur Mickey Deans (Finn Wittrock) — rather than suffer the humiliation of asking to stay with yet another acquaintance, or spend the night on the streets of Los Angeles. And then, she gets a shot at redemption: a five-week run at London’s Talk of the Town cabaret. It’s a way for an uninsurable star with a tarnished reputation to make the comeback of a lifetime, and perhaps save enough money for the custody battle her ex-husband Sid Luft (Rufus Sewell) is threatening. As shot after shot is squandered, however, it quickly becomes clear that this isn’t Garland’s big chance. It’s her last stand. 

In that sense, Judy isn’t so much a biopic as an elegy. We don’t have to see her slumped in a bathroom after accidentally overdosing on barbiturates to understand that she’s on her way out. The film’s final scene makes it eminently clear that this is, in fact, the beginning of the end. 

But before we discuss that specific moment, let’s dig into the context. After a disastrous show ended with Judy tripping and collapsing onstage, followed by a drug-fueled altercation with her fans, she’s fired from what was supposed to be her comeback gig. She’s blown yet another chance. Still, her English colleagues, including handler-turned-friend Rosalyn Wilder (Jessie Buckley), take Judy out for her birthday, ordering her a massive, rose fondant-covered cake. It’s a moment of intense significance — throughout the film, we’ve seen flashbacks of her being denied food by studio executives, childhood abuse that led to lifelong eating disorders. And indeed, she barely even touches the slice, even as she marvels at how wonderful it is. But more than that, we, the audience, know that this is the last birthday she’ll ever celebrate. 

So, when she shows up at the theater to support her alternate act replacing her for the final show, it’s almost as if she’s made her peace with her fate. In a rare moment of sober clarity, Judy asks if she can just perform one last number onstage. It’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for — Goold shrewdly omits Garland’s most famous and poignant musical number until now, when it will have the most impact. But her rendition of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” isn’t the sweeping, triumphant moment that sends you soaring. In fact, Judy’s barely able to croak out the first few bars, so overcome is she with emotion. For a brief, awkward moment, it seems like this will be her final legacy: a has-been too broken to deliver her most beloved hit.  Instead, the audience picks up the reins, shouldering her burden, and sings it to her. It’s the most powerful moment in the film, and one that carries all the emotion of a farewell tour. It’s our way of saying goodbye to an icon who suffered too much, too young. And she knows it. “You won’t forget me will you?” Judy asks tearfully. “Promise you won’t.”

How could we ever?