5 Scandalous Showbiz Stories From Liza Minnelli's Memoir

“Things can get pretty wild at Casa Minnelli." So begins Liza Minnelli in her new memoir Kids, Wait Till You Hear This! And she wasn't lying. In this probing, expansive book, which Minnelli wrote with her longtime friend and collaborator Michael Feinstein, the EGOT winner does not hold back. 

In this memoir, which begins from her younger years going to MGM movie sets with her father Vincente Minnelli all the way to the present day, Minnelli shares never-before-heard stories from her career. Yes, there are her many affairs and her longstanding battle with substance addiction. But there are also some eye-opening showbiz stories, including a lengthy recounting of the production of the Cabaret film (and her "sexual energy" with Bob Fosse), and her confession that addiction impacted her performance in The Rink. There's also moving stories too, such as how Carmen Zapata introduced Minnelli to John Kander and Fred Ebb. 

We at Playbill have read through the entire book, and we've picked out five theatre-related stories that had us going back and rereading to make sure we saw it right. Minnelli told us to "enjoy" reading her memoir, and we truly did. Click here to purchase the new tome from the iconic performer.

Judy Garland Auditioned for Mame, and Didn't Get It

Minnelli devotes an entire chapter in her book to her relationship with her mother Judy Garland, detailing Garland's mood swings, pill use, and suicide attempts—while maintaining that despite her troubles, Garland was a fiercely loving mother.

But the most interesting tidbit to us at Playbill was Minnelli revealing that Garland had always wanted to lead a Broadway show. Garland even once auditioned to replace Angela Lansbury in Mame in the late '60s. Composer Jerry Herman and Minnelli advocated for Garland to producers. Recalls Minnelli: “Momma was magical in the auditions, only to be told, 'You’re fantastic but too unreliable.' The very sympathy that put people in their seats at her concerts kept her from fulfilling other dreams.”

Minnelli also recounts how the night that she won her first Tony Award for Flora, the Red Menace in 1965, Garland wasn't at the ceremony: She was in the hospital after an allergic reaction to one of her prescription pills. "Momma always wanted to play the lead in a Broadway show, but she never got the chance. So her joy for me is clouded by her own disappointment. Her own unrealized ambition.”

Minnelli also expresses her displeasure at the various films, television shows, and musicals that have been made dramatizing her family—in case anyone was wondering about her thoughts on End of the Rainbow.

Harold Prince Didn't Want Her to Play Sally Bowles in Cabaret

The performance that immortalized Minnelli in the eyes of the general public almost didn't happen.

When Kander and Ebb first wrote Cabaret, they had Minnelli in mind for the charismatic leading lady Sally Bowles, but director Hal Prince was not on board. 

Instead of the larger-than-life energy Minnelli had in spades, he envisioned Sally as a shy, insecure English singer with questionable musical talent. Plus, he wanted Sally to be a blonde (and somehow, Liza's naturally dark tresses captivated Prince so greatly that he forgot wigs were an option). The stage role passed her by. But when she learned Prince was no longer in control of the 1972 film adaptation, she decided to take things into her own hands.

Minnelli tracked down producer Cy Feuer, talked him into coming to see her solo show that evening, dressed up as her version of Sally Bowles (complete with the slinkiest, sexist dress she owned), and performed the show to him, just like how Sally performed her set at the Kit Kat Club to Cliff. Her bold move paid off, and she got the role, with Sally transformed into a "powerhouse singer in a row rent club, desperate to achieve stardom. She didn't want to be a great artist, she just wanted fame, and the shiny objects that come with it." Minnelli certainly achieved Sally's dream of fame, and took home her fair share of shiny objects; she won the Oscar for her performance.

Playbill Played a Part in Her Secret Return to Broadway

In 1975, as her addictions began to take hold, Minnelli was whisked back to Broadway by that ever-present trio in her life: Bob Fosse, Fred Ebb, and John Kander. Chicago's original star, Gwen Verdon, was injured in a freak accident after inhaling confetti during the show's finale, and her absence threatened to close the show. 

"Gwen wasn't just a marquee name: she had acquired the rights to the musical, raised money to finance it, and was married to Bob," Minnelli recounted. "A talented understudy filled her place, but attendance began slipping. Chita Rivera played the murderous Velma Kelly, she was a huge Broadway star, but she couldn't stop the bleeding on her own." Minnelli volunteered herself as a short-term replacement while Verdon was out on leave, but there was an ulterior motive to her generosity: She hoped that, if she proved her skill in the role of Roxie, they'd consider her for a film adaptation she was sure was on the horizon. 

Of course, the film of Chicago wouldn't be made for several decades, putting a kibosh on that particular plan of Minnelli's, but she still made good on her promise. "We all agreed on several ground rules: even though she was out on medical leave, Gwen's name would remain on the marquee of the 46th Street Theater for the five weeks I'd be in the show. There'd be no mention of this in Playbill, no media features about me filling in. We did this out of respect to Gwen, who was heartbroken that she had to leave a show she had done so much to create. This was her baby, and it always would be."

The powers that be honored this wish, allowing Minnelli to run under the radar with only a few photos taken for historical posterity. One of Minnelli's friends nearly derailed the situation, however. "Some of my dearest friends were panicked at the thought, none more so than Sammy Davis Jr. When I told him my decision, which had not yet been made public, he was beside himself. 'You can't do this', he said, his voice rising. 'A star never steps into a show as the understudy for another star! You'll be diminishing yourself. Don't do it.' I tried to tell him that, besides saving Chicago, it would be a sensational feather in my cap. He kept pleading with me to change my mind. Not a chance."

In the end, Minnelli was right. Her stepping into Verdon's shoes has become Broadway legend. While she didn't get the eventual film adaptation, she certainly got a major feather in her cap, one that is regularly cited at theatre trivia nights around the globe.

A Torrid, Drug-Fueled Affair Led to Her Third Tony Award

Liza first met director Martin Scorsese on the film New York, New York, and the pair became dependent on each other very quickly, kicking off an affair that would have far-reaching impact on both of their careers.

As Minnelli put it, "I got lost in amour fou, the french term for a passionate relationship that becomes a self-destructive obsession. Two lovers are entwined, they can't let go when things get out of control. The relationship becomes a powerful, hypnotic drug, in every way."

While Minnelli experienced a similar passionate affair with Fosse, her relationship with Scorsese "had more layers than a lasagna.” The pair became inseparable, spiraling deeper and deeper into cocaine addiction. "We were constant companions, and I was right there beside him, line by line. Marty claimed the drug helped his creative juices. Sure it did. Or is that just one more fabulous lie you tell yourself when you’re in the grip of substance abuse? Only Marty can answer that for himself. Cocaine is evil.”

The pair were tied to a train skidding off the tracks until 1977, when Scorsese directed her in his one-and-only Broadway credit, The Act. Written specifically for Minnelli, it was her chance to re-establish herself after the disappointing critical response to New York, New York upended her film career. Scorsese had never directed a big stage musical, but she was insistent that she could not work without him. The Act would be the downfall of their relationship.

Scorsese may be a genius film director, but his total inexperience at stage directing nearly killed The Act upon arrival. After a series of fits and starts, the decision was eventually made to fire him from the production, a task that producer Cy Feuer (remember him from Cabaret?) left to Minnelli, as she was responsible for Scorsese being hired in the first place. "Cy told me that unless I did it, the show would tank, and I'd take the bullets and probably be sued. So, I did what had to be done. It damn near killed me, and broke my heart."

He left the project, and shortly after, the combination of the stress and the drug use nearly killed Scorsese. Gower Champion was brought on to fix The Act at the last second (Champion declined to be credited officially as the show's director). While Minnelli and Scorsese would continue to cling to each other for several more years, the events leading up to The Act were the climax of their co-dependent drama.

There's a happy ending though: Minnelli got her third Tony Award, and the pair eventually got sober.

Stephen Sondheim Disliked Minnelli's Version of "Losing My Mind"

You'd think because of her close relationship to Kander and Ebb, Minnelli would be beloved by all musical theatre composers. Not quite. In her memoir, Minnelli devotes a section to Stephen Sondheim, and how he disliked her—or at least her work. When recounting the creation of her 1989 album Results, produced by the Pet Shop Boys, Minnelli confessed that Sondheim did not enjoy her dance-themed rendition of his song "Losing My Mind" from Follies.

“He didn’t particularly like it. He always wanted songs he wrote performed exactly as he wrote them," wrote Minnelli. She then recounted how he "put [her] through hell" with the release of her 1981 album Live at Carnegie Hall, a live recording of her 1979 Carnegie Hall concerts. Because at one performance, Minnelli messed up the lyrics to "Some People" from Gypsy, Sondheim held up the release of the album for almost a year. "I had paid for this recording out of my own pocket, I had no record label at the time. It was a one-time event and it should have been a routine courtesy from one artist to another." Minnelli eventually found a flub-less version of "Some People" that was recorded on another evening.

Despite his dislike of her version of "Losing My Mind," Sondheim couldn't prevent Minnelli from releasing it. Wrote Minnelli with a bit of cheek: "Years later, I’m still cashing royalty checks for 'Losing My Mind.' And so is his estate.”