Judy Garland on Judy Garland (52 page)

Judy's return to television meant her return to the fan magazines. One of the few remaining in 1963 was
TV Radio Mirror,
which brought its readership up to date with the new TV star's personal life in this feature with its dramatic, pleading headline. There's a mention of Judy's on-again, off-again marriage to Sid, as well as their history of disputes and quarrels. Although Judy filed for divorce in August 1962, the couple reconciled in concurrence with the new television deal, and delayed the dissolution of their marriage for several more years. Nevertheless, the Garland-Luft union came to a bitter end several years later, and their divorce was made final in May 1965.

“When I was a child,” Judy Garland once said, “more than anything else I wanted to be loved by my parents. It seems to me my greatest responsibility as a mother is to give my children all the love I have.

“As a child I lived in a lot of houses, but what I wanted most was a home. And a home is what I'm trying to give my children.”

Judy Garland, born Frances Gumm, has never come out flatly and blamed her parents for the insecurity and unhappiness she has suffered
all her life—but there's no doubt that deep in her heart she holds them responsible.

Judy never had any real childhood. She went on the stage [by the time] she was three and, because in those days show-business folk were not considered “desirable,” Judy found it tough going. Many mothers wouldn't even let their children play with her.

“The only time I felt wanted when I was a kid was when I was on stage, performing,” Judy recalls. “The stage was my only friend—the only place where I felt alive and comfortable and safe. Later, when I broke into movies, I felt awkward, plump and unwanted. I've never had any formal training, and my lack of stage education gave me an inferiority complex which I've never lost. I never knew when I was doing a thing right—and I still don't. Each time I get before an audience, I'm suffering inside, certain I'll goof. And when I hear the audience applaud and feel that they mean it, I want to cry, the happiness hurts so. But today, the only time I really feel happy and alive is when I'm with my children.”

When Judy Garland met Sid Luft, her present husband (with whom she is battling in an on-and-off marriage), she was in one of her “nobody loves me” stages. He said that he loved her. He made her feel wanted and needed. The little girl whose father had died before she reached the peak of her career finally found the father image she was looking for. After two unhappy marriages, to two good, fine men whom she still admires (“I had good taste,” she says in recalling David Rose, composer-conductor, and Vincente Minnelli, director-producer), Judy felt she had found the answer. So far, the record would seem to indicate she hasn't. After umpteen separations and two filings for divorce, Judy and Sid still can't seem to make up their minds if their union was made in Utopia or in hell.

The only thing that is certain in Judy's private life is that she's determined her children will come first, last and always. And she can't be knocked for that.

“My children are the most important things in my life, far more important to me than career, success, marital happiness or anything else,” Judy insists. And even costars who have had reason to quarrel with her and doubt her sincerity—and there have been many of them—agree it's one area in which she's telling the truth.

Judy works hard at her career. Backstage, sipping wine from a tumbler, spraying her throat, drinking soda water and lemon juice, wiping away perspiration with a bath towel, she is like a fighter … a bantamweight … who follows a regimen of preparation for the ring, leaves it stumbling and drained, to be helped to her dressing room by a corps of devoted seconds.

Even when the crowd screams for more, Judy herself, full of mixed pride and uncertainty … “as always” … is half-telling, half-asking, “I did it again … didn't I?”

But even when she's working hard, as she is now on her weekly CBS-TV series, Judy's thoughts are never far away from her trio of young 'uns—Liza, 17, Lorna, 11, and Joey, 8.

“I have three lovely children,” says Judy, “but I have no ambitions for them other than that they be happy and well adjusted. Isn't that what every child—every adult—should want from life? What does the other stuff—the so-called success—add up to? I remember the night I was up for the Academy Award for
A Star is Born.
Little Joe had been born just a day before.

“TV cameras moved in for what I now jokingly call ‘the kill.' They were to be there if I won. I didn't. Grace Kelly did—and why not, she'd done a good job. When her name was announced, all the technicians packed up their equipment and moved out—without even saying good night, let alone they were sorry I didn't win. They seemed annoyed at me for losing. Well, I don't want that for my children. If they want careers, fine—but first I want them to learn, to get an education, to have something else to fall back on if show business doesn't work out for them. Also, and most important, I want them to understand that family, friendship, love, and many other things are more important than careers.”

How successful has Judy been in keeping her offspring out of show business? Judging from the success of her eldest, Liza Minnelli, not at all. But analyze it further and you'll see she's been completely successful in her aims. Liza took New York City by storm in an off-Broadway production of
Best Foot Forward.
Her reviews and her pubic acclaim were nothing short of sensational. But Liza is no Frances Gumm turned into a fictitious Judy Garland. Liza Minnelli is very much herself. Liza had the advantage of growing up feeling very much wanted and secure. Her mother had her physical custody, but her father, Vincente Minnelli, also
took a great interest in her life and her future. He and Judy discussed all problems concerning Liza. They were friends and speak well of each other to this day. Liza was never turned against either parent. She loves, respects and admires them both.

It was her own decision to enter show business. After finishing high school, she won a scholarship to the Sorbonne in Paris—no easy feat. But she wasn't happy. She got her feet wet in show business at fifteen, when she worked a fourteen-hour day, seven days a week, as an apprentice at the Cape Cod Melody Tent. She painted sets, scrubbed the stage, ran errands, and did all the other menial work of an apprentice. Judy and Vincente had hoped it would discourage their daughter. It did not. It only made her hungry for more show business. So, when she was offered a chance in
Best Foot Forward,
how could they refuse?

When old-timers in Hollywood meet Liza they are amazed that she is so well-adjusted and happy. How, they ask, has such a delightful girl come from a household of strife and discontent? The only answer would seem to be that she
knows
she is loved. No matter her problems, Judy has always kept her children as close to her as possible—and not in a matriarchal sense.

“I know my children's lives can't be normal because of the way I live,” Judy explains, “but I do try to make things as normal as possible. They have traveled all over the world with me. Yet I believe they have been helped by the security of being with their mother. That is better than the best boarding school, or a home full of servants and no mother. True, Sid and I (Sid fathered Lorna and Joe) have had our quarrels, but I've tried to keep the children out of it. My problem is with Sid —Sid's problem is with me. Lorna and Joe are loved by us both, and it's important that they know it.”

But the fact remains that Judy's parting—or rather, partings—with Luft have not been amicable, as were her previous ones from David Rose (by whom she has no children) and Minnelli (Liza's father). Her career has been more on the downgrade than the up since she wed Sid, and her battles with him have made many headlines—something both Rose and Minnelli tastefully avoided. She reportedly attempted suicide on several occasions—though she emphatically denied it, claiming all the instances were “accidents.” During one period, she fled to London to avoid Luft's
claiming custody of the children and asked that they be made wards of the court. Her on-and-off marriage with Sid is bound to have some effect on Lorna and Joe, no matter how hard she tries to protect them. Even if the quarrels do not take place before them, it doesn't matter—Judy and Sid always end up making headlines, and not pretty ones, at that.

Thus far, Lorna and Joe would seem to be happy—though, since Judy keeps them as cloistered as possible, no one knows for sure. They do not, however, have the security of Liza, whose father Vincente Minnelli, says of Judy, “She's a great, great talent. I'm proud to have had a daughter by her.” Instead, unless Judy and Sid change their tactics, they will be reading in the papers once again of bitterness and strife between their parents. The one thing that can save them is love—and their mother knows it. Judy speaks of them with pride and devotion, and every minute she works, her heart is with them. She wants the public to scream: “More, more, more!” But most of all, she wants her children to love her.

“It's wonderful how different my three kids are.” says Judy. “Liza and Joey are the most like me—outgoing, affectionate. But Lorna! She's independent. I know what my problem is. I mustn't let myself become too dependent on my children. And I mustn't let them become too dependent on me. I'm not permissive with them. Not at all. I'm strict, but my kids aren't afraid of me. We respect each other.

“The one thing I pray is that my children can help themselves through what they learn. I couldn't—at least, not until now. I had to suffer years first before I learned that pills, screaming and other crutches didn't solve the problem. Now I know it's in yourself and love for others—particularly your children.”

The Judy Garland Show
premiered on September 29, 1963. As detailed in this feature for
Parade,
there was trouble brewing from the start, as CBS never established a clear plan for the series. A succession of three executive producers—each with varying approaches to properly presenting Judy in this medium—worked on the show, but none of their perspectives were shared by the network. The biggest obstacle was the show's time slot (opposite
Bonanza),
and CBS president Jim Aubrey and his network cohorts sentenced
The Judy Garland Show
to death when they refused to move it to another night or time.

Each Friday night at 9:30 a little left-handed lady with large luminous brown eyes and a throaty, vibrant voice, larger than life, slithers onto stage 41 at the CBS-TV studios here.

For an hour and a half she sings, reminisces, sips tea, chats lightly, and cavorts with such guest stars as Lena Horne, Count Basie, Mickey Rooney, Mel Torme, Barbra Streisand, and, on occasion, her own children.

From these carryings-on, her producer and editor put together 52 minutes of videotape eventually telecast on Sundays as the
Judy Garland Show.
For this one-hour package, sometimes stirring and memorable, other times mediocre and old hat, Judy Garland is paid $150,000—or about half of what CBS gets for the time and program.