Cartoline dall'inferno

A good supporting cast and director, and a pleasantly ironic view of Hollywood life, can't quite save this from the perfectly soulless, textbook actress Streep totally miscast as the insecure (and infinitely sexier, more intuitive actress) Fisher. I never believed for a minute this woman was vulnerable: Streep is a ballbreaker who should only play larger than life villainous roles.

Great performances by Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine. They are both hilarious and poignant in this Carrie Fisher story about a show business daughter coming through the process of working out emotional trauma and baggage in relation to her mother, upbringing and subsequent addiction problems. Also especially good is Gene Hackman in a small supporting role and a cameo by Rob Reiner. Streep and MacLaine carry this film with their talents and are very entertaining as they confront each other and themselves about personal flaws and foibles. What makes this work so well is the smart and oblique humor that is employed to address the internal pain of the main character. I also liked the little jabs at the movie industry itself as well as its nonchalant way of revealing some of it's visual tricks too.

One particular touching and bittersweet scene is between Hackman (as movie director) as he comforts Streep (an actress he's working with) with a sort of lighthearted understanding and encouragement to overcome her drug addiction as he builds her up with appreciation of her talent.

Considering the obvious autobiographical nature of this story for Fisher, it would appear to be sort of a catharsis for her. She does a good job in bringing painful personal issues to light with humor through her writing. Personal pain and demons often seem to be the source of great art and entertainment as well as amusement for many artists and through their art, for the rest of us as well. This is a case in point and definitely worth the time.

This is a very addictive movie. It got me hooked on its genuine and rich characters, sassy and intelligent dialogue that made fun of a serious subject. The performances were spectacular, not only by Streep and Maclaine, but also by the veteran Mary Wickes, Dennis Quaid and Robin Bartlett as Aretha ("my parents expected me to be black"). All of the cameos were enjoyable and added SO much to this fabulous film. It's refreshing to see Streep do something where you don't need to buy out a store's tissue supply to get through the movie. And Maclaine shines as this disturbed yet determined matriarch. I like almost everything about this film. Especially the singing at the end, and Maclaine's rendition of "I'm Still Here"

Great Movie!

Screenwriter Carrie Fisher adapted her own book--about an actress in drug rehab--into this film about a drug-addicted actress and her alcoholic movie star mama, and the two barely resemble each other. No matter, because director Mike Nichols stages the behind-the-scenes/show-biz material very well (he's visually clever, with a humorous wink to the audience). However, it's momentarily disappointing that the film is so lightweight and doesn't strive to be more substantial, or that Meryl Streep hasn't really zeroed in on her character (she spends much of her time being comically frazzled). Streep's scenes with mother Shirley MacLaine are colorful and well-written, but her interludes with smug lover Dennis Quaid are embarrassing, with both stars spitting out silly lines of dialogue--and Nichols and his editor just letting them ramble. A plot-thread about Streep's shady business manager is brought up only to be forgotten about (we meet the man in question early in the film and he appears to be a forthright person of integrity), while the finale is a musical dead-end (is it supposed to be part of a movie or a music video?). Streep does an amiable Wynnona Judd impersonation here--and even resembles her!--but the picture is thin (it is exceptional, perhaps, only in its thinness). Gene Hackman as a director has a forceful moment at the beginning before he's turned into an understanding daddy, while Richard Dreyfuss plays a doctor who pumps Streep's stomach and sends her flowers the next day. Fisher and Nichols stay soft; they never get offensive or edgy--and maybe that's part of the problem. **1/2 from ****

Luke Skywalker is not the only member of the Star Wars gang with parent issues. Carrie Fisher, the actress who played Princess Leia, channeled hers into a novel that became another winning Mike Nichols domestic comedy, "Postcards From The Edge."

Meryl Streep stars as Carrie alter-ego Suzanne Vale, a once-successful actress trying to restart her career after a near-fatal O.D. Her mother, a screen legend in her day named Doris Mann (Shirley MacLaine), happily takes on the responsibility of overseeing Suzanne's recovery, especially given the attendant oversight she gets on daughter's life and career.

"I really hate that you have to go through this," Doris sighs upon visiting her daughter in the rehab clinic. "I wish I could go through this for you." MacLaine gives, frame for frame, the best performance in the film, one of her best ever. She and Streep seem to feed off the best aspects of each other's prior screen work, Streep picking up on MacLaine's sass and comedic chops, MacLaine on the way Streep can give you a sea of sadness through just a flickering gleam in her eyes.

Streep's comedy turn is the big surprise here, especially given how successfully she pulls it off. No dingoes running off with babies in this production. Nichols helps by putting her in situations that are very un-Streepish, like being threatened by cheesy "Scarface" extras or inhaling Fritos. Whatever the props, Meryl herself makes me laugh, something I never expected. Not that she lays back. Her gift for inhabiting others' skin is on fine display, as she gives Suzanne Carrie Fisher's wry intonations and wan half-laugh.

You can hear the connection on the DVD commentary; a candid, amusing piece by Fisher in which she explains the background of "Postcards," why she considers it "emotionally autobiographical" in the way it deals with her own past drug issues and especially her relationship with her movie-star mother, Debbie Reynolds. At the same time, it's fictional in many key details.

Fisher's clever Hollywood-dream-factory send-up of a script gives MacLaine and Streep plenty of great lines that pop off the screen like cherry bombs. "Instant gratification takes too long," Suzanne whines. "I know you don't take my dreams seriously, even when I predicted your kidney stones," crows Mom.

The film does get rather pat in the second half, especially when both bond by rounding on Suzanne's ancient grandmother (Mary Wickes). Given that Suzanne's the central character, and the one with the drug problem, more effort should have been made on exposing her flaws and weaknesses, rather than making her seem the most normal character in the story. Fisher makes this point herself in her commentary, wishing she was "tougher" on Suzanne.

"Postcards" is most effective when it focuses on the paradox of how these people perform so well in the limelight and so clumsily outside of it. "We're designed more for public than for private," is how Suzanne puts it at one point. Some comments here complain of too many musical numbers, but of course entertaining is what these women live for. Watching Suzanne watch her mother sing "I'm Still Here", realizing for an instant that a throwaway line in the song is really a cry of pain over Suzanne's way of life, and finally responding, silently but in a nakedly emotional way, communicates all you need to know about how much these two people love each other, beneath their banter and blame.

Such subtle touches allow Streep, MacLaine, and Nichols to keep the longer dialogues crisp and funny. You may have a hard time understanding the lives these people lead, but you will enjoy their company.