Na Glória, a Amargura

. . . to a great artist: Judy Garland. At the end of her fabulous, unparalleled career, Garland made this swansong. Under-appreciated at the time of its release, it now grows in stature, like fine wine aging.

Medical experts warned Judy would never sing again in the early fifties before she made the astonishing "A Star is Born." Then she went on to her historic national concert tours, and fifteen years after "Star" she made "I Could Go on Singing."

Defying all predictions about her career, Garland triumphed. True, it wasn't easy, for her or her fellow actors and crew. Somehow, though, she just kept bouncing back, overcoming the most formidable obstacles.

Here she's supported by an excellent cast headed by Dirk Bogard in a very strong performance. Ronald Neame's direction is on-target, though the script is a bit uneven. Yet the film is looking better and better, and viewers are growing in their appreciation of this legacy of one of the 20th century's most talented and beloved artists.

Saw 'I Could Go On Singing' as a big lifelong Judy Garland fan (since seeing 'The Wizard of Oz' for the first time at 6 years old) and to see everything that she has done.

Have always her an amazingly gifted singer with a beautiful voice and near-unsurpassable emotional connection to everything she sings and she to me was a good actress (especially in 'A Star is Born', 'The Wizard of Oz' and 'The Clock', though have really liked/loved her in everything seen of hers and have found a lot to admire for everything seen in films she stars or features in).

'I Could Go On Singing' is her last film and her swansong, and while Garland does not disappoint by any stretch of the imagination (she is the reason for seeing the film) she did deserve a better final film. 'I Could Go On Singing' is far from bad certainly and has a good deal to admire, but considering the potential and how great its strengths are it is a shame that it wasn't any better.

Due to Garland's illnesses, the film was finished in a hurry and it does show at times in some rushed-looking production values. Pacing is 'I Could Go On Singing's' biggest issue, with some all too obvious padding especially in the interminably self-indulgent "London travelogue" shots used to make up for when Garland was unavailable to film, those parts especially looked scrappy and should have been cut. The script is uneven, some of it genuinely moving and charming others (and too frequently) daft and melodramatically soapy, especially Dirk Bogarde's.

However, 'I Could Go On Singing' is mostly attractively photographed and the London Palladium stage gives an appealing sense of nostalgia. The music and songs are wonderful, especially the powerfully staged and performed "By Myself", the equally heartfelt "It Never Was You" and the rousing "Hello Bluebird".

In terms of standout scenes, the hospital waiting room scene, done in a single take, is particularly fine. It is a painfully honest and heart-breakingly honest scene and one of the greatest examples of improvisational acting on film personally seen, up there with the egg breaking scene in 1962's 'Cape Fear'. Ronald Neame directs admirably and there is enough that is powerful, entertaining and poignant.

Garland is the best asset other than the music, she is simply sensational and while it may not be her best performance it's to me one of them. She is especially good in the songs and in the hospital waiting room scene where the real her comes out in her character and it is startling in how real it feels and looks. Dirk Bogarde is very good as well, as are Jack Klugman, Aline McMahon and a sympathetic Gregory Phillips.

All in all, a good film with a significantly greater lead performance. 7/10 Bethany Cox

This film, Judy Garland's last, was panned at its premiere for being old-hat melodrama. The theme of secret mother love recalls "Madame X", with Garland as a Gladys George or Ruth Chatterton. Her big scene of renouncing her son over the telephone (white, naturally) recalls Luise Rainer in "The Great Ziegfeld". Aline MacMahon as Garland's acerbic confidante is like a Joan Blondell or Glenda Farrell. There is a show-must-go-on ending to gratify admirers of "42nd Street".

Garland's character, Jenny Bowman, is a thinly disguised self-portrait, down to the fluttery neurotic mannerisms (with hints of pill-popping) and the ability to turn around an audience kept waiting an hour past time for her show at the London Palladium- where Garland had sensationally headlined in 1960. After "A Star is Born" Garland, cheated of her rightful Oscar, had withdrawn to concerts and cabaret for almost a decade except for "A Child is Waiting" and her overheated cameo in "Judgement at Nuremberg". Here, for the last time, she essays full-blooded emotional acting against a worthy British opponent (for James Mason, think Dirk Bogarde) and carries it off pretty well, never becoming tiresome and often laughing at her own overwrought persona. She still looks pretty, too, not quite overwhelmed by the blowsiness of her last few years.

Bogarde, rapidly maturing after his daring role in "Victim", is a superb, challenging foil. Watch how he turns on a sixpence from the surgeon to the ex-lover after reassuring Garland that her throat is okay. His buttoned-up Britishness is never dull; like Ronald Colman, he radiates reliability and sensitivity in a coherent combination. He claimed to have rewritten all his dialogue with Garland during shooting; certainly their exchanges have a cut and thrust which prevents her from chewing the scenery. She has to react as well as posture.

The fans are given generous dollops of Garland's act in between plot scenes, but these reasonably complement and underscore the themes of defiance and sacrifice. Yes, it's soapy and lush, with daft interludes like the helicopter flight over London. But a touch of Limey stiff upper lip takes the saccharine taste away, and the Ronald Neame of "Tunes of Glory" and "The Poseidon Adventure" knows how to keep a story rolling along. File with contemporary efforts such as "The VIPs" and "The Yellow Rolls-Royce" as an enjoyable wallow, to be taken with boxes of paper handkerchiefs and chocolates.

Caught this on daytime TV one day and found it surprisingly engrossing. The plot line could be corny, but instead it is a touching and believable story. The principals are excellent - Judy Garland is not my favourite performer but she is very likable here, and Dirk Bogarde presents with his usual charm a role which could easily be unsympathetic. The young man who plays the part of the son is fresh and appealing, providing an excellent foil to the two seasoned professionals who play his parents. The Englishness of the settings comes across strongly but is not overdone. The script is low key but interest never flags. I don't find the vocal numbers particularly appealing - Garland's mature voice is rather smoky, but she delivers with all the seasoned arts of a veteran. Touch of weirdness - Garland's hair! Whoever coiffed her for this movie should be run out of town. Over-teased and over-sprayed, it is somehow dishevelled also, and strangely one-sided at times. Not flattering!

Judy Garland and Dirk Bogarde provide proof in I COULD GO ON SINGING that they could match each other for sheer power and intensity as far as their performing skills go. Although the film is obviously meant to capitalize on Garland's legend as a temperamental actress/singer with a devoted following, it is Dirk Bogarde's finest hour too. He never once fails to come to grips with what is sometimes an unsympathetic portrayal of a man caught up in a desperate love/hate relationship with a woman who bore his illegitimate teen-age son--and now has designs on getting him back. That's the plot, in a nutshell, and if it weren't for the power of the Bogarde/Garland performances--and some genuinely nice supporting work from Jack Klugman, Aline MacMahon and the boy (Gregory Phillips)--it all might have added up to a hill of beans.

Credit goes to a sincere, straightforward screenplay with some tart dialogue for Judy that sounds as if it came from her own true life experiences. Indeed, there are backstage stories that Judy and Dirk worked on the screenplay to tighten the emotional force of the drama and punch up the lines a bit--and if so, they have succeeded brilliantly.

Not only entertaining as a dramatic showcase for Miss Garland, it is also highly recommended for the musical interludes during which she performs at the London Palladium in great arrangements of material like "Hello, Bluebird!", "By Myself" and "I Could Go On Singing", among other melodies, all in full control of her "vibrato in search of a voice" equipment.

As a swansong for the actress, it is incredibly moving and a tribute to both Garland and Bogarde. Bogarde is especially intense in his emotional scenes--reminding me somewhat of the brooding character he played so well in LIBEL (a courtroom drama with Olivia de Havilland). He had become a mature actor by that time and here he is even more impressive.