CARRIE FISHER, the actress, author and screenwriter who brought a rare combination of nerve, grit and hopefulness to her most indelible role, as Princess Leia in the Star Wars movie franchise, died on Tuesday morning. She was 60. Per Fisher's wishes, I report that she was drowned in moonlight, strangled by her own bra. Aside from her mosy iconic role, she lent her support to a bunch of great commedies, including The Blues Brothers, When Harry Met Sally, and Hannah and Her Sisters. But perhaps her legacy should be found in her writings, including Postcards From the Edge, Wishful Drinking, and The Princess Diarist. I say this because -- for someone considered "Hollywood royalty" as the child of Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher -- she had that sort of John Lennon-esque quality of authenticity, of letting it all hang out without coming actross as ither haughty (in the case of her fame) or seeking victimhood (in discussing her problems). That quality was in ample evidence during this recent interview for Fresh Air. also... RICHARD ADAMS, the author of Watership Down, has died at age 96. and then there is this... GEORGE S. IRVING, a fearless comic actor whose signature smile could turn into a smirk with the perfectly timed arch of an eyebrow, died December 26 in New York of natural causes.He was 94. He won a Tony for his role in Irene, which coincidentally marked Carrie Fisher's stage debut). As a voice actor, generations will know him as Heat Miser in The Year Without A Santa Claus and A Miser Brothers’ Christmas. There really isn't much more news worth noting for today, but I'll be back tomorrow.
|
Comments