Would you believe that Angelina Jolie is a close personal friend of mine? Or that I spent the weekend with Lucy Liu, Chevy Chase, and Paris Hilton? Or that I’ve shared a laugh with Bill Cosby and Sacha Baron Cohen?
One of the great things about being a journalist is that you get to talk to famous people from time to time. Over the years, I’ve spoken with Ray Bradbury, Spike Lee, Al Jarreau, Jude Law, and Michael Moore. I’ve met numerous film directors and politicians, and have spent time in the company of Matt Groening, Claudia Schiffer, Robert de Niro, and Peter Greenaway.
When you see these people on TV or on the silver screen, they are larger than life. Make-up, rehearsals and camera angles make them look and sound perfect. When you meet them for real, though, they are often taller or shorter, heavier or lighter, smarter or less intelligent than you would expect. Above all, they are mortal: they can be as tired or hungry as we are, or be having a particularly good or bad day.
Some of them, like Law, Jarreau and Lee, are surprisingly relaxed and open. Others, like Bradbury and Moore, are edgier than one would like to believe. Often the differences between someone’s “official” personality and his or her everyday personality are so great that you might wonder whether you’ve got the real person in front of you, or a double.
Saddam Hussein had doubles. Other people might, too.
Saddam Hussein had doubles. Other people might, too
While I’m pretty sure I did speak to the real versions of the individuals named in the second paragraph, I do see, in everyday life, a lot of others I take to be doubles (those in the first paragraph). But perhaps that’s what they’re expecting. Famous people put on sunglasses and scarves to go to the supermarket, or add a few pounds before going to the beach, hoping they won’t be discovered by the paparazzi.
So who’s to say that the attractive woman riding my bus isn’t Penélope Cruz? A guy can always hope.
I’m writing about this because I think this way of looking at the world may be largely an American phenomenon. In Washington state, for example, I and other journalists were told we’d be meeting a historian who resembles Richard Gere. “Can you send over someone who looks like Cindy Crawford as well?” asked a colleague who resembled the singer from Frankie Goes to Hollywood.
For me, this all started with my dad, who for a while looked like Robin Williams (not the cross-dressing nanny in Mrs. Doubtfire, but the professor in Dead Poets’ Society). He’d watch crime series on TV during the week and then, in church on Sundays, note that the priest looked like Detective Starsky from Starsky and Hutch. So my theory ties this to Americans watching so much television.
Over the years, I’ve used this ability to see resemblances as a way of remembering faces. Not everyone has a famous double, but life can be more interesting if you imagine that you’re going to Roger Moore’s wedding or that CNN’s Jonathan Mann is doing your eye exam.
I have to go now. Marlon Brando is cooking lunch, and I don’t want to be late.
