Family Portraits

My father is the cutest thing. He firmly believes that any man in an old movie is either

a) Al Pacino
b) Richard Burton
c) (and this one serves for all cases where a) and b) fail) Charles Bronson

In fact, I wonder if, you were to line up the above mentioned thespians, would he even be able to tell them apart? I bet he'd say that Al was Richard and that Richard was Chuck. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if he insisted that all three were Charles Bronson.

Of course, every blonde woman is always Goldie Hawn. Unfortunately, my dad can never remember her name either. So he just refers to her as "the woman from that movie.. er.. you know.. arre vo vaali.. that one.. the one about the... haan the one we saw in Vizag… Neeru (seeking desperate help from my mother who is by now struggling to control stubborn fits of laughter) das na".
We all just understand.

Any woman with hair colour other than golden is Elizabeth Taylor. And there are simply no arguments entertained. You could go blue in the face insisting otherwise. Really there is very little that good ol' illustrious Liz did not achieve in her acting career. According to my dad, Liz Taylor starred in, among her other breathtaking performances… Forrest Gump (as Tom Hanks's mum), Gone With the Wind (as the formidable Scarlett O) and even some musicals like An American in Paris and Singin' in the Rain. But not all musicals mind you. The ones with blonde women are invariably starring "the woman from sound of music" alternatively known in my house as the "doe a deer vaali movie" co-starring Al Pacino/ Richard Burton/Steve Mcqueen… you get my drift.

Any man who so much as skips or courtesies in a movie is Gene Kelly… any man who is even remotely funny is Steve Martin. Clearly my dad's knowledge of movie stars transcends all time periods… all genres… all logic.

These days he's starting to get adventurous. Limited information tends to be his Achilles heel. Any young looking person is met with an inquisitive "Is that Tom Cruise?". A recent phenomenon (observed on too few occasions to be documented with complete accuracy) concerns short, funny looking men who are most probably "Dustin Hoffman kya?". Strangely enough most short, funny looking men in old movies do turn out to be Dustin Hoffman (a.k.a. "the man from Tootsie with the funny nose"). But if the Hoffman connection is not made, chances are we fall back into the whole Al/Richard/Charles quagmire again.

But there is hope… if not for accuracy than at least for variety in the mis-identification. Clint Eastwood and Marlon Brando feature sometimes. It makes for hours of breaking-your-head-against-the-wall fun.

My mother on the other hand is really with it. She's up to date with the Russel Crowes, hugh Jackmans, Brad Pitts and George Clooneys of the world. Basically all hot men… name one and she's likely to at least remember… the name (come one she's not super human or anything). In fact she absolutely drools over Eric Bana and letches shamelessly at Mathew Fox. I didn't even know who this Fox fellow was till she introduced him to my world. Truth be told, I am richer for the knowledge… he is quite the delectable fox.

My sister of course takes the cake. In fact you might as well surrender the entire bakery and all associated establishments to her. If there is a man who had one dialogue in some vague indie movie which was seen by a sum total of 50 people she would know that the actor in question was the third cousin of the person who was a cameraman/ choreographer/ designated coffee fetcher on another equally obscure film. She has so much redundant movie rubbish in her head… it’s a miracle her skull hasn't started cracking at the schemes. She is a mutant I tell you…

Now I watch as much E! News as she does… perhaps more (I watch repeat telecastes sometimes… yes I disgust even myself). But is it my fault that I lose interest immediately after the daily round-up of Paris Hilton's capers has been dispensed with? Is it? Is it?

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I seem to have hit a good spot with this one. When in doubt, write about family. That shall henceforth be my dictum.

As in most things, family tends to be a reliable bet. Even if it is exploits such as finding a muse worthy of merciless caricaturing.

Yes… Ridicule, begins at home