"A man that doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man."

On our way to a Gerry family dinner a month or so ago, Rachel and I started talking about what to expect that night. I told her that I'd guarantee that if me, my dad and my uncles are all in the same room, eventually we'll start talking about the Godfather. She naively thought I was joking, and maybe I was. But when we walked in the room, there's my pop and his brothers, TALKING ABOUT THE GODFATHER. Needless to say I dove right in.

In my grandparents' old house in El Cerrito there was a Godfather poster in the garage where I used to play with the iconic image of Marlon Brando stroking that cat, waiting for the next pitiable schlub to beg for his assistance. I knew nothing about this movie but the image spoke to me in a way I didn't understand.

I have dim recollections of seeing it later as a child, and seeing Godfather Part III with my dad when that came out. I didn't form a real opinion of it or Brando until I watched a taped copy of The Godfather Saga (a chronological edit of the first two movies, i.e. the De Niro scenes from Part II, then all of Part I, then the Pacino scenes from Part II) in high school. I was blown away, not just by the amazing filmmaking, but by Marlon Brando himself, who I mostly knew as Jor-El.

I immersed myself in Brando's work. My dad and I rented The Wild One and I became the only kid at school who knew the answer to the question "What are you rebelling against?" I vaguely recall attending a film history course in college, but I remember watching On the Waterfront there and loving every frame. I saw his white head peek out of the shadows in Apocalypse Now, embodying a madness I'd never seen before or since. I grinned all the way through Don Juan de Marco with him and Johnny Depp, watching two of my favorite actors of two different generations thoroughly enjoying themselves.

And it all brings me back around again to The Godfather, which I recently purchased on DVD. Watching it, I find myself captivated over and over again with a film I know virtually by heart. I dwell on the words that Brando delivered in his greatest performance, words about honor and family and loyalty and protecting the people you love. The fact that these words are coming out of the mouth of a murdering gangster doesn't detract from their power.

The Godfather's become such a touchstone for the men in my family that I don't know what we'd talk about exactly if it didn't exist, if Marlon Brando hadn't created such a character. It's a shared experience that we've all interpreted in different ways, but which is no less profound for any of us. In that film and throughout all of his work, he got down to the essence of what it means to be a MAN; the power that is inherent in masculinity and the ultimate responsibility it entails. He taught us not to whine or cry over our misfortunes ("You could act like a man! What's the matter with you? Is this what you've become, some Hollywood finnochio that cries like a woman?"), to be good to our families above all other concerns ("Do you spend time with your family? Good. Because a man that doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man."), and to be strong when others fail ("I spent my whole life trying not to be careless. Women and children can be careless. But not men.").

So Marlon Brando will be greatly missed by the Gerry family. If anyone needs me I'll be in the TV room, watching a snail crawl across the edge of a straight razor...