I am my father's only child. The world knows a two-dimensional Cary Grant. As charming a star and as remarkable a gentleman as he was, he was still a more thoughtful and loving father.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I always adored Cary Grant. I was fascinated by him. But I could never get too close to him.
Cary Grant was one of the most marvelous men I've ever met.
My son Cary's generation likely won't know who my father was, but it's something nice for him that his grandfather was an icon. I had one chance to pass along that name.
Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant.
When I knew I was pregnant four years ago with a boy, a friend suggested I call him Cary, but I initially resisted. There was only one Cary Grant. But a week before he was due, I started thinking it would be wonderful to pass the name on to him. And anyway, my father wasn't Cary to me. He was Dad.
My father sang well, and he was a handsome man. When he walked down the street, people sometimes mistook him for Cary Grant and asked for his autograph.
I did a little movie called 'Touch of Pink,' where I played a Cary Grant-type guy, which I thought was a lot of fun, and I thought I was moderately successful in my own interpretation of Cary Grant.
I remember seeing my father only twice as a child for brief visits. As I grew up, I invented a father who was larger than life - stronger, smarter, more handsome, and even holier than other men.
My father is such an amazing, beautiful actor. He's incredible, and he helps me a lot.
The truth is, I'd never seen a Cary Grant film. Since then I have watched his stuff and it's astounding, but I don't see any similarity between us. Except for the fact that I'm told he used to wear ladies' underwear, which is something I also do.