End Of The Rainbow is a depressing, yet entertaining, slide into a megastar’s death
Carol Rosegg
For an actor with a taste for hysterics—and, really, what stage actor doesn’t have a taste for hysterics?—portraying Judy Garland in End Of The Rainbow is probably something like spending the afternoon at a playground. It’s a very exhausting playground—maybe more like a military obstacle course during hell week than a tyke’s jungle gym—but it’s still a lot of fun. Few roles allow an actor so much time to stand onstage and be vulgar and completely clever, all while interspersing classic tunes and standing at the center of all human attention for more than two hours. Oh, and no matter how disgusting and distasteful Garland is, the audience loves her. She’s the wreck people can’t stop looking at—the original Lindsey Lohan, except with spades of talent and charisma.
End Of The Rainbow, which is playing now through March 11 on the Guthrie’s McGuire Proscenium Stage, is focused, obviously, on the end of Garland’s drama-filled existence when she had her fill of fame, pills, and booze, and was ready for something else—anything, really. It takes a great actress to pull off this dynamic role, which requires both comic and physical agility, and an outstanding set of pipes. That’s exactly what Tracie Bennett gives the Guthrie: an amazing star. Without such a powerful actor and singer at the helm, this ship would sink faster than Garland after spending a night alone with a bottle of whiskey.
There are two kinds of audience members at Rainbow. The majority of the audience members, probably, were once entertained by Garland herself, who died in 1969. For them, the production is less a recreation of ancient history and more a reenactment of a past life. The bonus is Bennett’s phenomenal voice and stage presence; she’s an actress seemingly equal to Garland herself. And then there’s the audience members who know Garland not as a person, but rather as an iconic remnant of America’s filmic past. Watching Bennett form the character, for this group, at least, is akin to watching a skilled SNL impersonator take on a politician or movie star: The impersonator’s iteration informs the new generation’s view of the person entirely. Bennett takes the audience’s vague notions about the troubled Garland—drug addict with a huge personality, the famous Dorothy—and rounds her out.
If there’s any real drawback to the production, it’s one that is also responsible for a great deal of the show’s appeal. The play flips back and forth between the real-life drama of Garland’s disastrous, drug-addled life and her performances—sometimes amazing, sometimes disastrous—at a London theater. So the audience is treated not just to the play and Garland’s conflict, but also to Bennett’s skill as a singer pantomiming the Minnesota native. Just when the audience members begin to feel as though they’ve stepped into an old-timey lounge where a once-great legend is crooning her favorite tunes, they’re swept back into Garland’s personal turmoil, where the essence of the production lies. It’s a play that’s part performance, part showboat. With an actor and singer as talented as Bennett, a decorated British actress who starred in the original production of this play, that’s not a bad thing at all. She’s a thrill to watch, whether she’s singing or spewing vitriol at her latest and last young lover.
