“I was expecting all the pretty things I’d heard about…and I got a lot of them.”
Liza: A Truly Terrific Absolutely True Story has been an anticipated release following glowing reviews out of its Tribeca premiere last year. The film starts with a somewhat candid, yet charming version of the great Liza Minnelli before vintage camera footage takes over, showing her in home movies with friends being carefree and joyous, with each clip saying more about the real Liza than any interview segment possibly could. This is quickly replaced with news footage of her mother, Judy Garland’s, death, surprising the audience by the way it plunges into perhaps the most famous aspect of Minnelli’s life. As the film proceeds, it becomes clear that this was the best place to start since, in many ways, the death of Judy Garland was the beginning of Liza Minnelli.
Director Bruce David Klein gives an inside look into the life of the actress and performer known simply as Liza. Through interviews with friends and collaborators, such as Mia Farrow and Michael Feinstein, and the late Chita Rivera, Liza: A Truly Terrific Absolutely True Story gives great personal insight into one of the most influential and legendary stars of the 20th century.
Folks expecting the kind of typical behind-the-scenes tell-all might be somewhat disappointed. Liza is not the typical documentary in that it doesn’t chronicle its subject’s life in the traditional linear way, nor is it the kind of gossip fest most would wish it to be. The two biggest areas of interest when it comes to Minnelli’s personal life have always been her relationships with her ex-husbands and with the equally legendary Garland. In these moments, interviewees speculate about her relationship with her famous mother, while Liza only offers the briefest mentions on the subject. She says even less about the men in her life beyond commenting: “Some of them weren’t men at all.” And yet, Liza does have its highlights as a documentary, especially when it comes to Minnelli’s past as an addict. The star’s struggles with substance abuse have been well-documented and it’s here where she’s at her most upfront, even commenting: “How lucky I was to have gone through all of the bad stuff that I’ve gone through because it prepared me for the rest of my life.” Liza might not be the kind of fodder lovers of True Hollywood Story would have eaten up back in the day, but it’s a surprisingly honest portrait of a legend that favors Liza the person over Liza the icon.
There’s a poetry to the approach Klein takes with Liza, choosing to present the film as a memoir with chapter breaks, spotlighting the memories and experiences in Minnelli’s life that helped shape her. Liza is about the life lessons the star learned along the way, be they about performing or living, and how she was taught them. There are moments of great vulnerability at watching Liza talk about how she conquered her stage fright through godmother Kay Thompson while crediting her understanding of dance to Bob Fosse, and the way she interpreted songs in a manner that mimics Charles Aznavour. She shares how she learned to navigate the press at an early age. In one vintage clip, a reporter asks Liza what she thinks about the critics who call her ugly, to which she comments that there are different kinds of ugliness. In hearing her recount these and other formative milestones in her life, it’s almost impossible to believe that there wasn’t always a legend inside just waiting to come out. But Liza takes no credit for herself, giving it instead to those who inspired and shaped the multi-faceted entertainer we know today by simply saying: “I learned by watching.”
Liza does feel a bit scattered at times, especially in the detour it takes with Minnelli’s relationship with designer and best friend Halston, which feels more inserted than genuinely explored. The film rebounds, however, by clinging to its strength, which is Liza recounting the profound effects being Liza Minnelli had on her life and what inhabiting such a huge persona taught her. It’s hard to ignore the fact that more of the talking feels like it comes from the likes of Farrow, Feinstein, Ben Vereen, Fred Ebb, and others than from Liza herself. Perhaps this is why when Liza ends, it does so somewhat abruptly with a feeling that we’ve only just begun. That’s fine. With a reported memoir on the way for 2026 (those of you wanting the hot goss may just get it yet), Liza, as always, will be back.
