By LOU HARRY
I’ve only seen Liza Minnelli once live.
That was at a concert with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, where her batteries seemed fully charged and she treated the audience like we were all guests in her living room. Warm, confident and damn entertaining, she even stopped the orchestra after a few missed vocal notes (“I can do that better, for chrissakes,” she said), gave herself a redo, nailed it and took the passionate audience even deeper into the palm of her hand.
Here’s the thing: I didn’t buy that it was a spontaneous moment. I fully believe that the move was planned, calculated to capture us, to make a human connection.
Now, in most cases, I hate fake spontaneity on stage. A few years back, for reasons I don’t recall, I saw the same play twice in a week and watched two members of the cast break each other up and drop character in the same way at the same moment. Both audiences ate it up but the faux faux pas just annoyed me. It felt dishonest.
And yet, for some reason, I gave grace to Minnelli for her (perhaps) calculated move.
That’s the same grace I give to “Liza: A Truly Terrific Absolutely True Story,” a new documentary whose title seems to be winking at those in the know. (The film is now in limited theatrical release and will soon be available on demand.)
It’s essentially a love letter, mixing contemporary interviews with the EGOT winner with archival clips and chats with those who worked with — and adore — her, including Joel Grey, Mia Farrow and Michael Feinstein. A theme throughout is her relationship with her mother, Judy Garland, and how Minnelli avoided staying in that far-reaching shadow.
The film provides a reminder of how powerful Bob Fosse’s film version of “Cabaret” was when it hit movie theaters and picked up a pile of Oscars. I know movie buffs that are still pissed off that Grey took the prize over three “Godfather” actors, but you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who deny Minnelli her trophy for her indelible work as Sally Bowles.
Oddly, though, the documentary barely notices her subsequent up (“Arthur”) and down “Lucky Lady”) film career. And her work / relationship with Martin Scorsese, which included both film (“New York, New York”) and Broadway theater (The Act) is pretty much ignored. Her marriages are glossed over as well in favor of her deep friendships with fashion designer Halston, lyricist Fred Ebb, actress, author and mother figure Kay Thompson, and others.
As to her well-documented and heavily reported stint at the Betty Ford Clinic for prescription drug addiction and her subsequent public acknowledgment of the problem, that facet of her life is presented as a heroic act, bringing media attention to a far-reaching social problem.
While this isn’t a film for those looking for a comprehensive biography, touchstone moments are are included, including her groundbreaking “Liza with a Z” television concert (available on a number of streaming outlets, including Amazon Prime Video and Pluto) and her stepping in with a week’s notice to essentially save the run of the Broadway show Chicago when star Gwen Verdon had to step out for medical reasons. There are fun fashion details, too, including that her spangled concert costumes were constructed in part to hide her sweat.
At that concert I mentioned earlier, Minnelli modified songs to fit her more limited range. And she allowed her trumpet player and other musicians to sometimes fill in to mask the sound she couldn’t make. And, yes, maybe she made up some stuff and glossed over some details. But she entertained, as does this documentary.
This article originally ran on the Midwest Film Journal website.
