Rufus Wainwright

As vanity projects and loving tributes go, few can trump the scale of Rufus Does Judy, a meticulous and adoring recreation of Judy Garland's legendary 1961 performance at Carnegie Hall. The set list reads like a crash course in the Great American Songbook; these are tunes that have been done a billion times by a million singers, but Garland's renditions of at least a few of them are considered definitive (including The Wizard of Oz's "Over the Rainbow"). And yet, Wainwright actually makes a sensible choice to pull off this sort of mad escapade, as he's an entirely different sort of singer.

With a few exceptions in which he lets his fine falsetto tremble ("Do It Again"), the songs are recalibrated to suit his lower range. Even if he doesn't quite have the same showstopping set of pipes that Garland had, Wainwright does have considerable vocal power, combined with a more on-the-sleeve sensuality that gives new intimacy to some the songs, even in a not-so-intimate venue. He fares especially well on the smokier, slower numbers, which tend to have broader and more timeless appeal than the much-parodied vintage musical bombast of songs like "That's Entertainment" and "Trolly Song."

But

Wainwright's affected style can be a little hard to bear for long stretches of time, even on his own albums. Stretched out over two discs, Rufus Does Judy is an endurance test for singer and audience alike, packed with demanding and overplayed songs the listener, more than likely, either treasures or abhors (the Great American Songbook doesn't allow for much grey area).

In short, the camp factor is high, despite the earnest motivations Wainwright relays early in the show, describing himself as a young boy prancing around in heels, pretending to be Dorothy and the Wicked Witch—much to the chagrin of his Scotch-drinking father. Rufus Does Judy is his chance to literally follow in the legend's footsteps; he doesn't always soar, but he seldom stumbles.

—Adam McKibbin
12.28.07

If Release the Stars displayed Rufus Wainwright as a weary, wannabe expatriate who was "so sick of America," then Rufus Does Judy at Carnegie Hall -- released just seven months later -- shows him falling in love with the country (or, at the very least, its traditions) all over again. Few things are as American as the American Songbook, which Wainwright tackles here with energy, camp, and a sly wink. Reprising the entirety of Judy Garland's 1961 concert at Carnegie Hall, he regains much of the momentum that was lost in Release the Stars' slower moments, performing live with a brisk 36-piece orchestra and several family guests. Perhaps there are people better suited to this task than Wainwright, singers who more closely embody the innocence that Garland always seemed to radiate in spite of her growing addiction to booze and Benzedrine. But Wainwright is obviously enamored with Garland -- who, in addition to her role as one of America's greatest female entertainers, has also become an enduring icon in postwar gay history -- and he revels in the glamour and glitz of her 45-year-old set list. These songs hail from a golden era dotted with trolley cars, Cadillacs, and glitzy jazz clubs, an era in which Wainwright never lived but still has the ability to convey. The secret rests in his vocals, which rise and fall between notes with all the smoothness of a slide guitar. Steeped in opera music and Tin Pan Alley tunes, Wainwright doesn't fall prey to the trappings of a contemporary pop singer, but rather comes across as someone much older. He sings in a fail-safe tenor with colorful vibrato, unafraid to tackle several songs in their original keys and rarely, if ever, missing a note. His infrequent mistakes are mostly lyrical or rhythmic in nature -- a flubbed line here, a botched intro there -- and they're met with applause from the audience. So while the performance isn't perfect, particularly toward the end of the show (where, after two hours of performing swing tunes and jazz standards, Wainwright is understandably low on steam), it's still nice to hear the singer in his element, crooning about dinging trolleys and zinging heartstrings with flamboyancy that only he can muster. ~ Andrew Leahey, All Music Guide