Stumbled upon this from a site (Internet incredeeble) and it reminded me of my initial impression when I sat through The Godfather in San Diego back in 1972. After all the film tinting, nostalgic set decoration, horse head and impressive acting, I wondered if the cat laying on his lap in the opening sequence, was indeed, his.
Cats don’t like laying on their backs unless they are comfortable, very comfortable, with their surroundings. This cat’s surrounding was Brando’s lap: he didn’t seem to care about else. And we are talking cameras, blinding lamplights, techs mulling around and supporting actors in the scene pushing out their lines. I decided then and there that he wasn’t sedated because he responded so quickly to Brando’s arm and hand moving over his space: his paws lurched up for the grab of the prey, in a moment of play.
Either this cat belonged to him or he belonged to this, and therefore all, cats. People at the ceremony booed and hissed when he won the Academy Award for Best Actor that following year and sent to the stage a squaw to protest the violation of Native American rights. But I was pleased. For me, the circle was complete.
Men who choose to move and groove among cats are extraordinary men.
I know this one was.