On occasion, it happens that a few particular names are gathered and thrown together into the creation of a film, which ultimately becomes something worth seeing based solely on the involvement of certain individuals. Any devotee to cinema should be suitably curious about the possibility of seeing director Mike Nichols, writer Carrie Fisher and performers Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine, working with each other – and we mercifully received this thirty years ago with Postcards from the Edge, which has gradually become one of the most cherished entries into the careers of all involved, even if it may not be considered their crowning achievement, which is more indicative of the enormously iconic career than it is the quality of this specific film. I revisit Postcards from the Edge every few years, and it proves to only become better with age, conveying a deeply personal message that is poignant, funny and heartbreaking, and proves to be a film that weasels its way into the heart of every viewer, giving us the chance to witness a hilariously irreverent comedy that packs an intimidating emotional punch quite regularly, functioning as more than many of us bargained for. It would’ve been so easy for this film to be forgotten, since its hardly the peak of the creativity of any of those involved – but through its relentlessly charming personality, and consistent efforts in providing us with an exuberant celebration of individuality, the pratfalls of fame, as well as a stunning portrayal of a mother-daughter relationship, Postcards from the Edge is an absolute triumph, and there has rarely been a better time to celebrate this film and everything it stands for than now, when we can once again sample from one of the more endearing comedies of its era, taking in its bold approach to a number of resonant issues with poise, heart and humour that remains unmatched in every way.

A discussion about Postcards from the Edge wouldn’t be complete without mentioning Carrie Fisher – so we’ll talk about her from the outset. The definition of a journeyman performer, Fisher saw every side of the industry in a variety of roles – as a child of Hollywood royalty who would go on to become an indelible part of the culture through her work in a particularly famous franchise, which gave her both worldwide exposure and the fame many yearn for, but not before teaching her that the glamour reflected on screen conceals a much darker side of reality that many people like Fisher experienced at the height of their fame, and in the subsequent decline that afflicts many of those at the top over time. Postcards from the Edge is Fisher’s adaptation of her own novel, which has often been mistakenly referred to as autobiographical, a claim which Fisher frequently disputed, claiming that it was merely coincidental that the characters of Suzanne Vance and Doris Mann mirrored the lives and careers of Fisher and her mother, the incredible Debbie Reynolds. However, while the validity that Postcards from the Edge is based on either woman may be debatable, it’s almost undeniable that a great deal of what informed this story came from Fisher’s own experiences in the industry, with her insights as both an insider who became part of the institution through her role as Princess Leia in the decades-spanning Star Wars series, and an outsider who was gradually pushed out due to her outspoken activism and refusal to abide by conventions, being invaluable in her pursuit of capturing a very particular side of Hollywood that may not be entirely new to those who can look behind the artifice, but is rather filled with an earnest candour that makes it so exceptionally fascinating and compelling, in a way that mere conjecture simply could never quite capture.

While relitigating the boundaries between reality and fiction reflected in this film should be avoided at all costs, since it counteracts Fisher’s own intentions when writing the novel, there are some interesting parallels between Fisher’s life, and the choices made in the creation of this film, albeit only superficially. This is most evident in the two performers chosen to interpret the roles of Suzanne, the washed-up middle-aged actress, and Doris, the world-renowned entertainer who may be past her prime, but still endears herself to her fans with alarming consistency. The former was played by Meryl Streep, one of Fisher’s friends and an actress who came up more or less at the same time as the writer, finding fame concurrently and thus forging a strong relationship. MacLaine was always considered one of the contemporaries of Debbie Reynolds, with their rise being almost at almost the same time, meaning that both actresses were often seeking out similar roles, if not vying for the exact same parts (as evident in the well-documented rivalry caused by the casting of the titular character in The Unsinkable Molly Brown, which was yet another defining moment in Reynolds’ career, but a role that could have just as easily been occupied by MacLaine). There is some degree of familiarity present between the actresses and the individuals they’re playing, and while neither Streep nor MacLaine may necessarily be playing Fisher and Reynolds respectively, there’s a sense of unspoken understanding that persists throughout the performances, which not only makes Postcards from the Edge a wonderful showcase for its two leads, but also an exceptionally strong film that affords its iconic stars the chance to pay tribute to figures that were most certainly inspirations in the touching story that traverses some wonderfully unique narrative territory that keeps us engaged and attentive throughout, which isn’t difficult to achieve when you have so many well-oiled components operating at full capacity.

The performances given by Streep and MacLaine aren’t only a testament to their immense talents, but also those of director Nichols, who opts to cast two incredible vivacious and distinct actresses, proving himself to not only be someone who most of Hollywood was clamouring to work with, but also a director who could extract the absolute best from every collaboration, regardless of the magnitude of their stardom. Streep was already established as one of the finest actresses of her generation, having achieved accolades and recognition in the first fifteen years of her career that most performers would struggle to achieve in a lifetime. Yet, Postcards from the Edge brings out a vulnerability in Streep that we rarely get to see – she’s fragile and broken, and filled with a self-loathing that we would not expect to come from someone who is normally as assured and committed to her own unique brand. It’s a refreshing performance from an actress who is known for her ability to constantly reinvent herself between roles, playing the part of Suzanne with a steadfast conviction that only buttresses the incredible depth she brings to the role. She’s contrasted beautifully by MacLaine, who is just as endearing – whether playing to the rafters (such as in a distinctive scene, where she performs a rewritten version of “I’m Still Here”), or in the more subtle moments, she proves how she still has the electrifying ebullience she demonstrated throughout her entire career. The chemistry between Streep and MacLaine is so palpable, it’s bewildering that this is the first and only time that they have worked together, which only makes the experience of watching this film so much more compelling, since it’s a chance to see two of the finest actresses of their generation playing off each other and finding the nuance in a pair of complex characters, which serves as the fundamental basis of the film as a whole.

Perhaps not autobiographical in the traditional sense, but rather an elegy to two generations of Hollywood, based on its writer’s first-hand experiences from her childhood, through middle-age, Postcards from the Edge is a tremendously effective film. Much like its two stars, this is a film that never quite goes out of style – and it brings their weathered understanding of the industry, as well as their effervescent glamour, to the screen in a way that could only be captured by someone with as discerning an eye as Nichols, who could recognize the most important aspects of a story through the most simple means available to him as a filmmaker. It doesn’t always succeed as flawlessly as it should – there are a few moments of ill-placed melodrama that can sometimes feel as if they belong in an entirely different film, and the pace can alternate between being heavy-handed at one moment, and choppily hasty at another, giving the film an imbalance that it sometimes struggles to justify. However, this is all easily overlooked when we realize how dedicated the film is to its premise – whether touching on the perils of fame and the volatility of the entertainment industry, or functioning as a touching familial drama about a relationship between a mother and daughter (with these moments being the most memorable, even if they aren’t particularly funny), Postcards from the Edge is a truly special film, and one that keeps the momentum it builds from the outset throughout, making this a wonderfully entertaining, and occasionally thought-provoking, glimpse into the trials and tribulations of two characters who are still trying to figure life out, despite already having experienced far too much of it.