Constant motion, exceptional circumstances, wild indulgence, disorienting repercussions.
A blossoming actress well-versed in cinematic intrigue takes things multiple steps too far, and is sentenced to move back home.
She can therefore continue working after her overdose, even if incumbent oversight bewilders her resolve.
Things remain relatively calm, in Ms. Vale's (Meryl Streep) case anyways, but jealousy and deception neither flounder nor subside, as her mom (Shirley MacLaine) and newfound beau Jack Faulkner (Dennis Quaid) contend and philander respectively.
Explanations or reasons why disputatiously illuminate, as the struggling actress carries on.
Her strength is most impressive.
Her talent, undeniable.
Postcards from the Edge honestly presents a cerebral state of affairs.
Even though the situation's quite serious, lighthearted charm reveals resilient subtle character.
Blending in both sympathy and censure.
It resists impulses to sound too preachy and consequently doesn't infantalize.
It doesn't let anyone off the hook, but doesn't overflow with guilt or blame either.
I didn't know Carrie Fisher was such a good writer.
Postcards excels at offering versatile soul searching conversations between parent and young, examining the thought provoking envy that aggrandized their lives in show business.
But it's not simply envy, the envy's mixed with support and compassion, these beacons emitting clever conversational poise that tries not to offend as it resists temptation.
If it's blunt, it isn't overstated.
The conversations become more and more genuine as the film progresses, and director Mike Nichols gives them plenty of time to bloom as they patiently generate their own lifeforce.
Vale and Faulkner have some good arguments as well.
Some people who overdose don't get to return to work so shortly thereafter, so Postcards is a bit hands-on fairy tale.
But if forgiveness and mercy are to constructively abound, who's to critique such remarkable developments?
Cool film.
Wasn't on me radar way back when.
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