Hold on to your hats: this biodrama about the last days of Judy Garland is likely to rip them clean off your head.

Much of the show is devoted to quips in a Ritz hotel suite, but when Tracie Bennett’s Judy fills her lungs to sing, it’s gale force conditions.

Forget the finer arts of nuance: this is a belter of a performance. In the front row, you’ll see Ms Bennett’s epiglottis flap like a punch ball. 

Yet she pinpoints the sound of Judy Garland in middle age — the volume of Shirley Bassey and the wail of Edith Piaf. 

And caked in make-up to disguise the effects of a lifetime of pills, vodka and cigarettes, Ms Bennett’s Garland is the polar opposite of her cutesy Dorothy. 

For writer Peter Quilter, Garland is a gay icon with a tongue to rival Mae West’s. Terry Johnson’s full-blooded production cleverly measures out the shocks and William Dudley’s rococo hotel room set is glamorous yet a teeny bit tawdry. 

All eyes, though, are on Ms Bennett’s Judy who sings, struts and frets so much like Garland it’s uncanny. 

 http://www.dailymail.co.uk