He was, quite simply everything you would expect.  Much like he is on screen, when Al Pacino walks into a room, you know it.  He takes over.

He’s shorter than you might imagine, but huge in a room.

I was lucky enough to moderate “Al Pacino: One Night Only”, at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa.

Two hours on stage alone with one of my favourite actors of all time.  It was a wonderful opportunity.

Unlike many celebrities, Pacino’s “people” were clear with me beforehand: ask him anything.  He wants this to be spontaneous.

He arrived at about 5pm, we sat down in an empty theatre to watch the evenings “montage’, a series of clips from his career.  It was me, three other people, and Al Pacino, watching Al Pacino clips. 

There were two different options.  One was more popular and focussed on his biggest roles. Tony Montana in Scarface, Michael Corleone in the Godfather series, Lefty Ruggiero in Donnie Brasco, Sonny in Dog Day Afternoon.

He asked me what I thought the Ottawa audience would rather see. Yes, Al Pacino asked my opinion.  He went with the more popular montage and the audience loved it.

 When he speaks about acting, it is his lifeblood, the reason he still works so hard. He has just finished three films in six months, and is still very active in live theatre.

His recent obsession is Oscar Wilde’s Salome, a play he staged in Los Angeles while simultaneously shooting a movie and a documentary about it.

Engage him in a conversation about acting, and you might be there for a while.  But there are also frustrations that most regular guys have. We talked about fatherhood, and how he found it hard to not have as much time with his children who are growing up, and at times think he's "too old".

One audience member compared his performance in Scent of a Woman to John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address in 1961. Several thousand people nodded in agreement.  

I have one regret about Thursday night.  Years ago, my housemates in university and I would spend hours talking like Tony Montana in Scarface.  We would have full conversations with each other, with our girlfriends, with the guy at the beer store, sometimes even in class. It was absurd. But it was also Pacino.

I wanted to tell him that story but I didn’t have time. I wanted to say “thanks mang”.