To judge by its subject matter, Postcards from the Edge is a movie I would not under any circumstances watch. But there it was on the telly, and before I could change the channel I caught a bit of dialogue that sounded clever. And then another bit of bright dialogue, and then a whole scene, and I was hooked. That was about 10 years ago. The other night I watched it again to see if my first impressions deceived me. They did not. It’s a good movie, a little sloppy in the editing, but otherwise a film with one standout scene after another.
If you haven’t seen it, it’s a story about a mother-daughter relationship, written by Carrie Fisher, an authority on the subject. The mother, played by Shirley Maclaine, is an alcoholic. The daughter, played by Meryl Streep, is a junkie. (Now you see why it’s not my type of movie.) Three things elevate the film above its story line: (1) Meryl Streep, (2) Shirley Maclaine, and (3) the sharpness of Carrie Fisher’s writing.
The movie takes place in Hollywood, for the mother is an over-the-hill movie actress and the daughter is trying to climb the hill. Say, doesn’t that sound like Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher? No, but close. Carrie carries around lots of bittersweet memories about Mom and Eddie Fisher, her dad, who left Debbie for Elizabeth Taylor, who left Eddie for Richard Burton, who left…… Some of the memories undoubtedly “informed” Postcards, but Carrie was saving the best stuff for her one-woman show, Wishful Drinking, which was just shown on HBO.
In Postcards, Mom advises daughter that she should give up acting in third-rate movies and focus instead on a singing career. The advice is sound, but the daughter is wary: Mom sings, and she doesn’t want to compete with Mom, because Mom always wins. Interesting sidelight: A review of Wishful Drinking notes that Carrie Fisher is a talented singer, though Mom is of course the “name” singer. (Personal note: As an emcee at an industry conference, I once shared a stage with Debbie Reynolds and found her great fun to work with. It is hard for me to believe that Shirley was channeling Debbie in the movie.)
The scenes between Streep and Maclaine are the core of this movie. They are duels dripping with bitterness, and they are terrific. Others flit around the edges of the story: Gene Hackman is just right as a film director, and Richard Dreyfuss, Rob Reiner, and Dennis Quaid help out in roles that are inconsequential at best.
It was no surprise to find Meryl Streep delivering another memorable performance; all her performances are memorable. But Maclaine outdid herself. She is best known as a talented singer and dancer, but here was a dramatic turn that was very demanding, and she scored a bull’s eye. At least some of the credit for her bitchy performance must go to Director Mike Nichols, who also directed Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, with Elizabeth Taylor as the bitchy Martha.
Hollywood is a very small world.
