I don’t think it would be unreasonable for me to say that Renée Zellweger looks and sounds nothing like Judy Garland (but then again, who could?), but despite that, her performance in the new Judy Garland biopic – simply titled Judy – is terrific. She’s magnetic, she’s uterly charming, heartbreaking, and just plain wonderful. Not unlike her title role, Zellweger has had her shares of ups-and-downs in her career, having gone into a hiatus in 2010 after a string of flops and only recently coming back in the past few years. For what it’s worth, I would consider it a very welcomed return.

Zellweger has grown significantly as a performer, and that growth and maturity and world-weariness is on full display as Judy Garland, bringing us into her venture into London in 1969, where she is performing concerts in hopes of getting some money that she can use to better support her two young kids, who are currently staying with her (one of many) ex-husband, Sid (Rufus Sewell). We get a glimpse of her struggles with finances, depression, her addition to pills and alcohol, which often lead to outbursts that tend to make matters worse. Throughout, we’d occasionally flashback to moments from her younger years (where she’s played by a striking Darci Shaw), and the way the Hollywood machine practically set her on a path of self-destruction.

It sounds compelling enough, but I was ultimately disappointed with Judy quite a bit. Zellweger does everything she can to liven the film up, and it’s watchable because of her. However, the film is shallow and forgettable, which is not something you should ever say about a story regarding Garland’s life. The film is structured in a way to where you sort of have to have a basic understanding of who Judy Garland was, the glimpses of what she’s going through are done in a way that forces you to fill in the gaps with the knowledge you already know, and it makes for an experience that doesn’t seem fully fleshed out.

Garland’s life was a fascinating one, and there is plenty of material to mine here. However, the filmmakers don’t seem to be all that interested in exploring some of the more interesting or defining moments of her life, and instead, making the film play out as a largely basic hagiographic exercise that seems to have little to actually say about her experience as a woman in such a harsh industry, relying mostly on simple tearjerker beats (granted, some of which are effective). It left me wanting more, more than I already knew, or took what I knew and put it into a different context that explores some of the darker avenues the story offers but lets slip by.

The film – which is directed by Rupert Goold, and written by Tom Edge, adapting the stageplay, End Of The Rainbow by Peter Quilter – is competently put together. Zellweger sings her heart out. Supporting performances from the likes of Jessie Buckley, Finn Wittrock, and Michael Gambon are fine, perfectly serviceable given the material, but it is thin material that leaves a lot of them forced to play one note without much going on under the surface. While it’s not the most standard musical biopic I’ve seen, it still doesn’t do much that is new, and there are a lot of beats that you’ve seen before, and moments of dramatic license that borders on embarrassing to witness.

Judy isn’t without its affecting moments, but it lacks perspective and leans so hard on the tragedy of her loss to the point where it seems to be the only way she is ever defined by in the film, which is a shame because Judy Garland was a deeply complex, talented, and interesting individual. It doesn’t seem to know who the audience for this is, since it’s doesn’t give enough context for newcomers, and for people who know a lot about her, the film’s dive into her experience rings hollow. I would say if you are going this purely for Renée Zellweger‘s performance, then it’s very much worth your while. Though, once the film was over I did find myself wanting to revisit some of Judy’s classics, so at least there’s that.