Directors: Alexis Bloom, Fisher Stevens
Starring: Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, Todd Fisher
Even in a media landscape where reality TV stars are willing to have their private lives exposed for any measure of fleeting fame, the relationship between Debbie Reynolds and her daughter Carrie Fisher is truly the stuff of legends. Together they represent two very different eras of Hollywood. Fisher has memorialized their often difficult relationship in her writings. One of them was the semi-autobiographical novel Postcards from the Edge, which was made into a film rather fittingly starring Shirley MacLaine and Meryl Streep. And yet they were practically inseparable, living as next door neighbors in their Beverly Hills compound for decades. When the two died within a day of each other almost a year ago, the legend seemed to be complete. Fisher would pass away on December 27 after suffering a massive heart attack. Reynolds followed her soon after, almost as if she couldn't bear to be without Fisher. According to Carrie’s brother Todd Fisher, Reynolds said before dying that she "wanted to be with Carrie."
Bright Lights was filmed from 2014-15, well before their passing. But it feels like a fitting capstone to their careers. It breezily mixes present day and archival footage in a nonlinear order, producing a lively and affectionate portrait of the two. Their conversations are often filled with inside references and zingers which hint at a much more adversarial past, but which has since mellowed out with time. The pair is a study in contrasts. Reynolds is dignified and polite in front of the camera. And she always dresses immaculately. Fisher expresses herself through a combination of acerbic wit and humorous self-depreciation. Reynold’s house is tastefully decorated. Fisher’s house is cluttered with more recent pop culture memorabilia. Even their pet dogs reflect their different personalities. But they’re united in their mutual love for musical numbers and classic Hollywood cinema. And of course their status as showbiz goddesses. Or as Fisher states in response to a reporter’s question at a red carpet event., “We are always on a red carpet.”
The claim isn’t too hyperbolic. The documentary shows both Fisher and Reynolds being kept busy interacting with their adoring fans. Fisher is an active participant of fan conventions. She refers to these appearances as a “celebrity lap dance” while prepping in the autograph area during one such event, After a full day of signing autographs and posing for photo ops, Fisher can still express a mixture of awe, befuddlement, and acceptance. “They love her”, referring to her Princess Leia role, “and I’m her custodian, and I’m as close as you’re going to get.” Despite having retired from film, Reynolds still tours the country performing in lounge acts to a mostly aging audience. This is a source of tension between mother and daughter, since these performances leave Reynolds with barely enough energy to function. The first scene of the film catches Fisher after she’s failed to talk Reynolds out of one of these gigs. Fisher compares her mother to a force of nature, a “tsu-mommy.” Then she goes to help her pack. Despite the toll touring takes on her body (she almost collapses as she hobbles of the stage), it’s easy to see what Reynolds gets out of it. The reception she receives is ecstatic. Fisher recognizes the sustenance it gives to Reynolds. "Performing gives her life. It feeds her in a way family cannot."
Reynold’s work ethic is no surprise. She was a product of the Hollywood studio system of the late 1940s. It was a system that always demanded a cheerful professionalism out of its charges, like a manic version of kayfabe. It was also still the golden age of the movie musical. But more importantly, Reynolds went through three failed marriages, the first one ending in a huge scandal at the time when husband and celebrated crooner Eddie Fisher left her for actress Elizabeth Taylor. Through it all, Reynolds kept up a semblance of dignity and wholesome sweetness. Bright Lights suggests this wasn’t an act resulting from shallowness or ignorance. It was a display of inner strength. A way of showing the world that she wouldn’t be brought down by such difficult circumstances.
Needless to say, this is unlike the more outspoken Carrie Fisher. Old homemade movies give the impression that Todd and Carrie had an idyllic childhood. Yet Todd admits to a surreal family life being raised by such a famous mom. The siblings began smoking weed as teenagers, though Carrie would go on to stronger stuff and develop a serious drug habit. They came of age in the freewheeling 70s, when Hollywood was being colonized by a new generation of auteurs. One of those auteurs, a young George Lucas, would soon give Fisher her big break. There’s one remarkable clip from 1971 which foreshadows a more unstable future. Reynolds is in the middle of one of her shows when she coaxes, perhaps bullies, Fisher to perform onstage. It’s a very typical parent-child dynamic where the former is setting up the latter to either succeed or fail. The clearly embarrassed teenager grins through it all and belts out a soulful rendition of “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” her outward cheerfulness bleeding over into defiance. “I love that voice” remembers a tearful Reynolds. “Isn’t that a great voice? Wish I had it.” But Fisher would disappoint her mother by not pursuing a singing career. In a few years, she would land the role of Leia for Star Wars, then go on to have a tumultuous marriage with Paul Simon.
When the film catches up with the present, Fisher’s inner demons haven’t vanished. She can’t quite quit her personal vices even as she prepares to film The Force Awakens. But the angry recriminations that characterized the mother-daughter dynamic from a few decades ago have already been replaced by a more genteel schtick. A comedic performance where the characteris have come to recognize each other’s limitations. Fisher keeps insisting that Reynolds retire her lounge act, while Reynolds worries about her daughter’s bipolar disorder. They find in familial bonds a happiness they couldn’t obtain with their romantic male partners. The final part of Bright Lights has the entire clan coming together to ensure that the increasingly frail Reynolds will be on hand to accept a lifetime achievement award. It’s an emotionally tense occasion that causes Fisher to despair a few times. But when it’s all over, the two collapse on the couch when they're back safe at the compound, and amuse everyone with an impromptu version of "There's No Business Like Show Business" as if they were casually conversing about their own lives.
It’s a brilliant scene, and it makes for a sadder realization that these two remarkable women aren’t around anymore.
