Postcards from the Edge

I remember seeing POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE as a kid, and my mom explaining to me that it was written by Princess Leia -- known to common folk as Carrie Fisher. That captured my imagination: the woman who played Princess Leia also wrote movies? And books? I remember seeing the trailers and TV commercials over and over again where Meryl Streep, as Fisher's alter-ego, held onto the edge of a building, towering far over the street, and let go of the ledge just long enough to shrug helplessly without falling -- because she was lying flat on a movie set. That captured my imagination, too.

Of course it wasn't until years later that I really appreciated the well-told narrative of a mother-daughter relationship beset with the troubles of substance abuse and show business. And I don't think I ever appreciated it more than the other night when the Hollywood Theater showed the film on the big screen in 35mm in remembrance of the passing of both Carrie Fisher and her mother, Debbie Reynolds.

On paper you wouldn't think this flick needs to be seen on the big screen, but I'll tell you, half the movie is told in the facial expressions of Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine, as Streep's mother (the Debbie Reynolds character) and nothing shows facial expressions and closeups better than the big screen. That's only part of it, though. The other part is the fact that a couple of the most pivotal scenes in the film are musical performances, and while I'm sure they work on TV, there's no way they're as emotionally impactful as they are on the big screen, with big sound, in a crowded theater, especially the closing number, where Fisher is wise enough to have her character's catharsis play out through song, when dialogue's not enough.

Another closeup scene: late in the flick, Streep applies makeup to MacLaine's face. MacLaine was brave to shoot this scene, without any visible makeup at first, including just the stubs of what are left of her eyebrows. The scene's inherently intimate, as Streep brings her ailing mother back to life with the aid of cosmetics, but nothing's more intimate than an intimate scene on a giant screen.

I've said so much without even touching on the story -- Streep plays a drug addicted actress fresh out of rehab who is forced to move back in with her mother, also a famous actress (MacLaine), to satisfy the agents insuring her new film. Dennis Quaid's on hand as a slimy suitor of Streep's, along with Annette Bening in a scene stealing role as his other girl, and Gene Hackman as a wise director who just wants the best for Streep, but won't put up with her worst. Richard Dreyfuss is also there as the doctor who pumps Streep's stomach after an overdose and then asks her out on a date, in a climactic scene in which Streep admits she's not quite ready for that yet. This is the kind of movie where that statement is a major revelation.

All this said, let's not forget the movie is genuinely funny and in that way the script, based on the novel by Fisher herself, stands in as a symbol of the woman: funny, true, complicated, beautiful, wise. It's hard to watch the movie without forgetting Streep is an actress playing a character, and not Fisher herself, and MacLaine is the same, and not actually Debbie Reynolds.

The definitive scene occurs when Streep and MacLaine confront each other about their individual forms of substance abuse. It's funny, heartbreaking, and riveting, all at once. Both actors go at it with everything they have and neither hits a false note. Is there any better movie out there about mothers and daughters? Maybe. But I've never seen any better than this one.