Sorry for the pedantic subject line, but doesn't it seem that much of the conflict comes from the clash of cultures? "Indian girl" sounds like a working woman in the US, while her mother does not work and lives in another country. Couldn't this be the source of much of the struggle? If the mother lives now in a culture in which the mother of a family is the center of attention, the one who lays down the law, the one who is consulted and petted, there is bound to be conflict. We have no veneration of elders in our culture; family ties are much more elastic here than many other places. I wonder if Indian Girl has sisters, or sisters-in-law. It is difficult when long-held cultural traditions snap over one generation. There is probably no discussion that will ever clear the air and make peace. I say call the mother on her behavior and be done with it.

The "particularly dull choice" of Judi Dench is right on. I love that woman, and can watch every episode of "As Time Goes By" a hundred times. It is time, however, that the Academy stop trying to fix the wrong it inflicted on Dench ("Mrs Brown") when she lost to Helen Hunt ("As Unwatchable As It Gets"). They gave her the supporting award the next year for a trifle ("Shakespeare In Love"), which then robbed Lynn Redgrave ("Gods and Monsters") or Kathy Bates ("Primary Colors") of the award. To convince themselves that that award was not a consolation prize, they nominate her so frequently (five times in eight years) that Bette Davis must be spinning in her grave.

It is nice to give those overlooked performances a last hurrah before they sink into On-Demandsville, though. I was one of those nerdy kids who kept scrapbooks of the Oscars (back when there was barely any coverage in the press), and it scarcely seems imaginable now that actors like Marie-Christine Barrault, Liv Ullman, Max von Sydow, Valentina Cortese, or Ida Kaminska could have been nominated. Or that one of the actors that Robert DeNiro beat out for Supporting Actor was Fred Astaire (!). "Surprise" entrants are now expected, even pinpointed down to the category -- Supporting Actress usually hosts the left-field honoree.

The Oscars seem to have adopted a weird "we're above the fray" demeanor, but its workings never seem to make sense. Now that they are the last major award given out, there are few surprises and a debilitating lack of tension. I watch because I have every year for almost 40 years, but it has all gotten a bit dull, hasn't it?

I hesitated writing because I was afraid of being too harsh; people referring to their parents as "my mom" and "my dad" sets my teeth on edge. It really sounds to me as if the woman has too idealized a picture of the situation. What was the relationship with her father when her mother was alive? Her mother was the glue, "showering" the children with affection giving all the love expected from a parent; did the father feel left out all those years? I think she might consider whether the devastation she felt when her mother died could have been a fraction of what the woman's husband felt. She says she got through it with her loving husband and friends. Great, but she doesn't mention how her father got through it. Suddenly, it's a year later and he has a new wife, the Jezebel who was lying in wait all these years. He got through it the emotionally mature way of dealing with loss -- by grieving and moving on, not by the somewhat immature need to have many people rallying to your side.

Her wanting to warm things up with the old man now that she is pregnant (with his grandchild, she says, almost accusingly) is predictable now that she is about to become a parent. This letter sounded awfully self-serving and self-involved. Didn't anyone else notice some big holes in the narrative of the situation? It sounds like the chickens have come home to roost.

While we seem to drown in a sea of celebrities these days, real stars -- creative, innovative, endearing -- do not come along that often. Stand up comedy has given us many wonderful talents, but those who started by doing stand up, with some exceptions, never quite seem to mature as actors. Many of those who did were vaudevillians (Bert Lahr, Ed Wynn), but there were also those who resolutely refused to change their personas one whit (Bob Hope, Jack Benny, George Burns). There was a time when actors could easily handle comedy (Gary Cooper, Cary Grant, Jack Lemmon, even Jimmy Cagney) but they were actors first, equally capable of doing dramatic parts.

Those who came from stand up too often appear to think that maturing as dramatic actors requires taking on stories awash in sentimentality and treacle ("Patch Adams," anyone?). No matter how much you like a comedian, a quick perusal of IMDB often shows how little of their film work is watchable or enjoyable. Perhaps it is the struggle between maintaining an edge and achieving mainstream success, i. e., becoming a movie star. Here's a test, of sorts: if you're asked to participate in the Academy Awards for any reason or in any role, you are no longer cutting edge. You've made it; let mediocrity ensue!