Meryl Streep, Penny Marshall, and Carrie Fisher
Photographed by Art Schreiber at the Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles on December 2, 1996.
Friendship is the recess from the graduate school of life. My friendship with Penny and Meryl has the sense of a secret handshake of shared sensibility, of shared history. Penny is disgruntled, courageous, and funny.
Meryl is maternal, grounded, funny, and so loyal it’s impossible for you to hate her for her talent, her long marriage, her many children, or her beauty, which seems unlikely to dimish anytime soon.
We three are in the same business in three different ways, though we originally started out in the same union. Penny and I changed careers in midstream around the same time and branched off into work behind the camera; Meryl remains luminous and astonishing before the lens. Penny and I are suspicious party throwers, exhausted workaholics who understand each other through various overlapping idiosyncrasies; we finish, if not anticipate, each other’s sentences.
Meryl’s empathy runs rampant; she never loses faith in her friends’ ability to bend back into shape. Or her ability to speak in shorhand and silence. I have been sustained by these women through adverse times and personal difficulties. We play for fun and for keeps till the bell rings.
My friend Ed Moses said years ago that there were tribes who roamed the earth and each one ahd a magic person, even in as unlikely a place as show business, the capital of opportunism, ulterior motives, what someone can do for you instead of with gratitude. My friends, my close friends are my family, my kin. We worry when we feel that one of us is not doing well; we revel in one another’s successes. Both these broads wear my ring, share a mutual masseuse and, yes, even a tendency to gossip. These chicks are born stars. And their aim is true.
*Carrie Fisher on her best friends
(Vanity Fair Magazine, USA, March 1997)
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