Garland's gal

All through her teens and twenties, Lorna Luft ran from her legacy as Judy Garland's daughter and Liza Minnelli's half-sister. She hated the questions, the comparisons and the intrusive, often synthetic public sympathy which came with her mother's accidental death by barbiturate overdose here in London in 1969 - Dorothy OD-ed and over the rainbow at last. Luft dyed her hair mauve, belted out back-up on Blondie records, and married and divorced a hard-living rock'n'roller her late parent would definitely have disapproved of, before swiftly spiralling into her own drink and drugs hell.

She matched Bill Wyman (still a good friend) Jack Daniels for Jack Daniels and got turned on to cocaine by her unofficial godfather, Sammy Davis Jr, every step of the yellow brick road denying she was repeating Mom's mistakes. 'I was in Studio 54 one evening and someone said to me, "Aren't you doing the same thing your Mom did?" And I replied, "Oh, no. Mama had a problem. I don't have a problem because I only do this at night." How stupid is that? Dummy, dummy, dummy.' Small wonder that those in the know predicted she was on the way out, just another casualty of the all-consuming myth.

Yet 30 years later, here's Luft, clean and sober, and in the city she considers her second home, about to open at the Savoy Theatre with her award-winning, rollercoaster one-woman show, Songs My Mother Taught Me, belatedly paying tribute to the icon she used to call 'The Shadow' by recreating such Garland standards as 'Chicago' and 'The Birth Of The Blues' in their original arrangements. Her second husband and respected composer Colin Freeman - English, younger, formerly Luft's pianist - is even conducting the orchestra. 'Oh, honey,' the actress, singer, writer and producer says when asked why this, now. 'Haven't you heard? No one outruns The Shadow!'

Luft laughs and shrugs. We're ensconced in the tearoom of the Savoy, waiting for her mineral water - Malvern, still, no ice - to be delivered. At 51, she still takes after her father, the controversial, notoriously controlling Sid, Garland's third spouse and the man who re-invented her as the concert act when MGM tossed her aside. Identical snub nose, strong chin, brassy grin. The legs, though, belong to the other side of the family. Extending out from under an indecently short pink skirt are the same spectacular pins Mama flaunted in that classic 'Get Happy' dance number.

'It's about coming full circle,' Luft continues. 'What I previously refused I finally faced.' Songs My Mother Taught Me is glitz, gossip, confession and, apparently, another stage of Luft's ongoing therapy. 'I wrote my autobiography, Me And My Shadows, in 1999 and produced the mini-series in 2001 starring Judy Davis, and with that I found I could take on Mom's unbelievable library of songs. Thanks to video, I even duet with her. In fact, the show opens with me at age 11 on stage with Mom.' The question begs itself: is this acceptance or surrender? 'Neither,' Luft admonishes. 'It's about making friends with a ghost. Mom had a disease. She couldn't fix it, I couldn't fix it, no one could fix it.'

If that sounds practiced, that's because Luft will slip into a prepared spiel if permitted. And why not? She's been answering some of these questions for decades. Did Garland throw a kitchen knife at Luft's younger brother Joey? (Yes.) Didn't she burn down their bungalow in a fit of rage? (Yes.) Was the threat of suicide used as a form of discipline? (Yes). 'But there were good times, too,' Luft sighs. 'No one ever wants to hear about good times.' This isn't to suggest Luft is on a permanent spin cycle. Push and she's a paragon of directness. 'Fire away - ask anything.'

OK. Was she ever jealous of the more famous Minnelli's career? After all, Liza shot Cabaret while Lorna toiled on TV, stage musicals and Grease 2. 'Nope. I made a choice - career or family. And first in my heart are my two children, Jesse, who's 20, and Vanessa, who's 13. My family was always going to be number one. A career or a life? A life, thanks.' Is it true she cut Minnelli off after Liza fled the Betty Ford Clinic? 'That's long ago. Please. Want a scoop? I saw her at Easter. We were leaving a restaurant and there was a paparazzo taking our picture and we decided to hold hands in the middle of the street and let him snap away. I turned to Liza and said, "This picture will be worth a fortune if a car hits us."'

And what about her opinion of David Gest, Minnelli's fourth, soon to be ex-husband? 'Never met him. I was in Australia singing for Bill Clinton when she married him. Then I didn't speak to her for that whole time because Gest wouldn't allow anybody to speak to her. Especially me. Because that's what control freaks do. Ask me another.'

Is she on good terms with her father? Here Luft falters. As she's refurbished the legend for new generations, Dad has been selling Garland off, first the special Oscar for The Wizard Of Oz, then clothes, copyrights, etc. Luft's snort is enough to make the man at the next table stare. 'We're not speaking. He's still upset about the book. I don't know why. Hey, maybe I do. He didn't write it.'

This almost sounds bitter. Luft demurs. 'I'm bitter - no, regretful, about only one thing. I wanted my Mom when I was pregnant because that's when you need your Mom. But she's always there, really. I'll be driving and hear a song on the radio or pass a billboard and see her face. I used to find that painful, you know. But, baby, now I'm just plenty grateful.'