It's a pity that Carrie Fisher's real talent - for writing, which outshines her acting abilities - had to come to light in such a cathartic and traumatic way. For, despite the usual disclaimers in these romans à clef, this is essentially the story of her relationship with her mother, musical superstar Debbie Reynolds. Fortunately their shouting matches, as enacted by Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine, are punctuated with stretches of wickedly funny humour that make you relish the thought of Fisher writing an out-and-out comedy. Streep, a little too old but great anyway, is the daughter whose wisecracks for every occasion thinly veil an inner bitterness and confusion. 'Do you always talk in bumper stickers? ' she asks her detox doctor, after being hauled back from a drug overdose. MacLaine matches her as the mother who tells her 'Sing me one of your old numbers from my act.' She gets the very best of a script that drips with gems of wit and pearls of wisdom.

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