The Singer That Got Away

It's that time of the year, when Christmas music comes out two months before Christmas. I don't have a problem with that, because I love the music, even if I prefer the sacred over the secular and all they play is the latter. On my way home from a birthday party last night, I heard "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," one of my favorites. Sung by some recent pop singer, it wasn't half bad, but it and other versions hold nothing to the original Judy Garland one in Meet Me in St. Louis. Then that got me thinking. Soon I realized that Garland was responsible for some of the most iconic, most revelatory recordings in the past century (and her daughter, Liza Minnelli, wouldn't be too far behind). Here are some of the ones I thought of, in no particular order:

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"

Halfway through the song, look at the little girl's face: that's me when I hear this song. That was also the face of many, many people who saw this, as the country was in the thick of WWII and their loved ones were not with them for the holidays. Garland, who, though being only 21, was use to doing single takes, was really pushed by the director Vincente Minnelli, who wanted to bring out her great gifts. They would later marry.

There are several Christmas songs that deal with the unhappier aspects involved, such as missing family, friends, scorned lovers, etc., but I cannot think of one that deals with the matter directly like this song does (the others are, forgive me, mostly whining). Granted, the original lyrics are more stark and cutting: 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, it may be your last,
Next year we may all be living in the past

and

No good times like the olden days, happy golden days of yore,
Faithful friends who were dear to us, will be near to us no more.

But the lyrics that Garland sings are still backed with melancholy, just presented now with a more upbeat message. The real clincher is the line "From now on we'll have to muddle through somehow," which should break any walls left standing and allow the tears to flow.

"The Trolley Song"

From the same movie, this song expresses that quintessential emotion of musicals, optimism for love. However, rarely has that emotion been tied in song to actual setting and action. Here, Garland equates the palpitations of her heart with the trolley she is riding, for that is where she was to meet up with her (possible) beau. He seems to miss the trolley, though, and her anxiety builds up; what's wonderful here is that the chorus sings first while she roves about looking for the guy, providing commentary on what's she feeling until she spots him and starts in herself, as though she was choked with fear earlier, but is now relieved enough to sing her optimism. She is just in top form here.

"Ol' Man River"

This one was an unexpected delight. I recently stumbled upon this, and this is hands down one of the three best versions of this song I've heard. 

"Get Happy"

I think we should listen to her. The backdrop is simple but delightful. Her outfit is impeccable (what legs!). Just be happy.

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow"

We need this now more than ever. It can be dangerous to have your head in the clouds and ignore your problems, but if you are only ever looking at the dirt, then how can you expect to reach this fabled spot Dorothy/Garland dreams of?

"Swanee"

I greatly prefer this version to Al Jolson, partly because I don't like Jolson, but mostly because Garland does it much better. The dancing is phenomenal, particularly the cane hitting bit, and like many other movies of the time, they really loved to use color. 

"This is Mrs. Norman Maine"

Lest you think Garland was only a great singer, I would point out that a.) she is "acting" marvelously in all the above clips from movies, and b.) see the above clip for a decidedly weighty bit. A Star Is Born is one of the greatest movie musicals of all time, but unlike most of them from those times, this is an incredibly searing portrait of Hollywood and stardom, and the punches are not held. From the underbelly of movie lot PR to suicide, this is not Singin' in the Rain (not to disparage that magnificent movie). This clip is from the end of the movie, after her husband has drowned himself after sinking into abysmal failure; but the guy who comes to get Garland reminds her that there was one great success in his life.

"The Man That Got Away"

I fibbed earlier when I said there was no particular order: I saved the best for last. This is one of the best scenes Hollywood ever filmed. Done in one shot, something that is incredibly rare in these hyper-prismatic days, the camera never leaves Garland as she sings about lost love. Yet, she is happy; she is frequently showing more jubilant emotions, and ends with a smile. I think she is putting into performance something that British novelist Iris Murdoch said, which is that one of the greatest things we can experience is falling out of love. Perhaps that the exact case here, but joy can be had from loss. This performance, more than any of her other ones, shows her ability to really delve into a (good) song and show its multitudinous aspects, and her gift for a dialectic between music and lyrics, and performance.

Practically any Judy Garland clip or movie you look up will be golden. Now, I think I'll go to my piano and try to do what Garland does.