To watch this indulgent but madly watchable documentary about the life and times of Liza Minnelli is like snorting a pound of uncut showbiz glitter through a rolled-up copy of Variety off Joel Grey’s naked back on the Studio 54 dancefloor – though as ever with documentaries about celebrities facing the destructive power of drink and drugs, there is no mention of the limelight and praise addiction which they are expected to maintain.
I was sorry that Minnelli’s marvellous, underrated film New York, New York with Robert De Niro is passed over relatively quickly – conveying the wrong impression that, aside from the iconic song, it’s a blip on her CV – and sorry also that her late-masterpiece comic performance on TV’s Arrested Development gets hardly a mention. But otherwise this is a richly sympathetic and thoroughly enjoyable portrait of an authentic queen of American musical theatre and movies; there is some wonderful modern-day interview footage of Minnelli, talking with waspish candour about herself, and apart from a slight vocal tremor, very robust. There is a great moment when, after having a FaceTime conversation with Mia Farrow, Minnelli is shown looking sharply at her own face in the little box in a corner of the screen: she instinctively frowns, pouts, assessing herself.
