By Elizabeth Ahlfors

"Judy Garland Live!"

Some stars never die. They don't even fade away. They are revived in TV specials and little statues sold in the gift shops of their landmark birthplaces.

Then there are the superstars who once grabbed audience imagination and never faded away. We call them by their first names – Elvis, Marilyn, Judy. Costumed look-alikes appear at benefits, parties or casino lounges. They are usually second-rate. Other performers, however, are talented, dedicated impersonators who study the iconic stars. Obviously, they cannot bring them to life but they remind audiences of the elusive star quality that made the star legendary. Tommy Femia is this kind of impersonator, and for two decades now, his subject has been Judy Garland.

With a passionate middle range voice and magnetic stage presence, Judy Garland wrung as much out of a song as she could. Without lip-synching, Femia's Judy Garland is from the '60's television and Carnegie Hall era when her belting voice was still secure with its vibrato, although not the pure sound of her youth. Femia keeps the vocal energy up, avoiding high notes, recreating the great Garland hits like Harold Arlen and "Yip" Harburg's "Over the Rainbow" and "The Trolley Song" (Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane). He adds a few songs Garland never performed, presenting them in her style of steadfast bravura. These include Stephen Sondheim's "I’m Still Here" from Follies, with some updated lyrics, and an overly dramatic 1977 pop hit for Whitney Houston, "The Greatest Love of All" (Michael Masser and Linda Creed). Femia infuses it with over-the-top inspiration, hitting as many soulful buttons as possible, Judy-style.

Femia relishes the breathless, jittery, self-deprecating Judy patter: "I'm not bitter; bitter is a color that goes with nothing," she quips before going into Harold Arlen and Ira Gershwin's "The Man That Got Away." Femia creates a running connection with ringside viewers, asking "Has Liza come yet?" and "Oh, Coke comes in a liquid form?" 

Guest artists have included Mark Nadler, Karen Mason and Christine Pedi. At the performance I saw, it was KT Sullivan, svelte and glamorous in a long ivory gown and black hat. Femia spotted the hat and compared it to one Mamie Eisenhower wore at her husband's inauguration (not true, although Mamie did own a similar hat). Femia then left the stage for his ensemble change. 

Sullivan delivered a clever ditty by Jerome Kern and Irene Franklin, "My Husband's First Wife." She followed this with a poignant rendition of Kander and Ebb's "Colored Lights." from The Rink, a shrewd choice since Liza Minnelli starred in the Broadway show. Sullivan, a fine actress as well as singer, was affecting, delivered her own brand of restrained emotion.

After Femia's costume change into a black sequined top ("Do you like it? It was part of Liza's confirmation dress.") he joined Sullivan for a duet of Jack Yellen and Milton Ager's perennial, "Happy Days Are Here Again" paired with "Get Happy" (Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen). As in Judy Garland's television show singing the duet with young Barbra Streisand, it was a battle of vocal belt power.

The last part of the show featured a medley of the anticipated Carnegie Hall blockbusters.

Tommy Femia's impersonation of this complicated doomed star is a dedicated, loving tribute, with musical director Christopher Denny's piano support, Mort Lindsay style. (At some performances, David Maiocco is at the keyboard.) The costumes are meticulous, featuring skirts since Garland had shapely legs and, fortunately, so does Femia. Femia bears no physical resemblance to Judy Garland aside from what makeup can do, but theatricality rules here, with familiar gestures, nudging, but not going over, the top. Never mean-spirited, he is most convincing with Garland's body language and speech. What is not discerned in the show, unfortunately, is the heart of Judy Garland's appeal, her fragility and vulnerability, a dichotomy with her fierce talent and charisma.