When a famous person dies, I am similar to everyone. If I loved that person, I immediately have to hold on to something that belonged to them. In Carrie Fisher’s case, I decided to finally watch anything on HBO about her and request all her memoirs from the library, not including Postcards from the Edge because I read that book already. I decided to watch Wishful Drinking first because it was the shorter of the two HBO productions with Carrie Fisher. At the time, I was unaware that Wishful Drinking, a one-woman show, was a stage adaptation of one of Carrie Fisher’s memoirs.
Wishful Drinking conveys Fisher’s self deprecating charm, her incisive awareness of her absurd celebrity existence and her pride in being a flawed human being who loves other flawed human beings. Wishful Drinking is Fisher’s clarion call to others to throw away any shame over failure in relationships and mental and physical health. Fisher’s bawdy humor pokes fun of herself and her family.
Wishful Drinking actually made me more impressed with Fisher. There is a moment when Fisher tries to interact with the audience, but most of them freeze at the attention except for a black woman with natural hair. Fisher tries to put a necklace on her, but it falls. Instead of ignorantly trying to put it over her head, which would ruin her hair, Fisher tucks it gingerly in her bosom, “which is ample.” I appreciate the considerate move and the ribald remark. It was a bit of improvisation that reflects Fisher’s way of spontaneously negotiating life.
Fisher sings in Wishful Drinking, and I was immediately struck by how much she looks and sounds (to me) like her mother, Debbie Reynolds. I know that the appropriate response to this comment should be, “Duh, they are related.” It was one thing to intellectually and theoretically understand it, but quite another to recognize it as if it became true the moment that I noticed it.
Wishful Drinking is a fitting way to remember Carrie Fisher and those that she loved. Have no fear! I am currently reading the memoir.