My Girls

When a film icon dies, their image is often preserved in amber, a perfect, curated loop of their most famous roles and red-carpet triumphs. We remember Audrey Hepburn for her timeless elegance, Grace Kelly for her fairytale transformation from star to princess. Their legacies are polished, simplified, and safely stored in the public consciousness. But what happens when that curated image shatters? What happens when two icons, a mother and daughter bound by the complicated, often brutal, machinery of Hollywood, die within a day of each other? The polished narrative fractures, revealing a far more complex, raw, and human story beneath the celluloid gloss—one of fierce love, shared struggles, and a bond that fame could strain but never break.

That chaotic, beautiful, and heartbreaking reality was the lifelong landscape for Todd Fisher. Living inside the whirlwind that was the lives of his mother, Debbie Reynolds, and his sister, Carrie Fisher, he was more than a bystander; he was the anchor, the confidant, and the historian of a family that belonged to the world. After their staggering, back-to-back deaths in late 2016, the world was left with questions, grief, and a collection of iconic film clips. Todd, however, was left with the complete picture—the private jokes, the late-night calls, the shared resilience. He wrote this book to pull back the curtain on the legends, sharing the intimate, unfiltered story of 'his girls' and offering a final, loving tribute to the brilliant, complicated women the world thought they knew.

Module 1: The Hollywood Facade and the Family Behind It

We often think of old Hollywood as a golden era of perfect families. But Todd Fisher pulls back the curtain on that illusion. His parents, Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher, were "America's Sweethearts." Their wedding was a media event. Carrie's birth made global headlines. But behind the perfect photos, the reality was different. The marriage was strained. The love was fading.

This brings us to the first insight: Public image is a carefully constructed performance. Debbie and Eddie's idyllic family was a brand, one that masked deep marital issues. The strain was so great that Debbie hoped a second child might mend the fractures. Todd's own conception was a deliberate act, a prayer for a sibling for Carrie and a desperate hope for family unity.

Then, the facade shattered completely. Eddie Fisher left Debbie for her close friend, Elizabeth Taylor, after Taylor's husband Mike Todd died. It was one of the biggest scandals in Hollywood history. And here's the thing: Betrayal shapes a family's foundation for generations. Carrie and Todd were too young to understand the tabloid frenzy. But they felt the aftershocks. Todd vividly recalls four-year-old Carrie staring out the window, waiting for a father who never showed up for his visit. The emotional abandonment was real. Their father became a "virtual stranger," a wound Carrie would carry her entire life.

In the wake of this public collapse, Debbie Reynolds had a choice. She could let the chaos define her children's lives. Or she could build a fortress of love. And she did. This leads to a crucial point: A parent's love can create normalcy in the most abnormal circumstances. Their home on Greenway Drive was a palace. It had a screening room, multiple pools, and a full staff. Yet Debbie fought to keep her children grounded. She enforced family dinners. She tucked them in at night. When her own mother criticized her for being too protective, Debbie let the kids play in the gutter, encouraging them to get dirty and just be kids. She balanced extreme privilege with intentional, everyday love.

Module 2: A Filmmaker's Education in a Magical Kingdom

With the family drama swirling, Todd found his sanctuary in a place that was pure magic: the MGM Studios backlot. It was his mother's workplace, his playground, his school, and the birthplace of his life's passion. While other kids had Disneyland, Todd had pirate ships, Western towns, and entire European villages to explore.

This unique environment provided an unparalleled education. So what happens next? Passion is ignited by access and mentorship. Todd was observing. He hung out with film crews. He asked questions about cameras, lighting, and sound. His uncle, a makeup artist, taught him how to create gore effects. A stuntman taught him how to stage a fight safely. He was getting a hands-on film education before he was even a teenager. It was an apprenticeship in the heart of the magic factory.

But then, the magic kingdom was dismantled. In a corporate takeover, MGM sold off its assets. The backlot was bulldozed. The props and costumes were auctioned. For many, it was a heartbreaking end of an era. For Todd, it was a catalyst. This brings us to a key principle for any creator: Resourcefulness is the engine of creativity. When the studio was gone, Todd saw an opportunity. His mother, heartbroken, bought truckloads of MGM costumes and props to preserve Hollywood history. Suddenly, Todd's backyard became his new studio. With British RAF uniforms and Western six-shooters, he and Carrie filmed a police shootout. The lesson was clear: filmmakers take what they do have and make it work.

But play is different from art. The real shift came from mentorship. A legendary cinematographer, Harry Stradling, gave him a challenge. He told Todd to take 24 still photos and explain the reason for every single frame. When Todd couldn't, Stradling delivered a lesson that shaped his entire career. Artistry requires discipline and intention. Stradling told him, "If you don’t have a reason for the way you framed a shot, the shot’s not worth taking." Every single moment in a film must be deliberate. It was a profound shift from just having fun with a camera to understanding the discipline of visual storytelling.