It was back in late 1997, and I was curled up on the sofa in my grandmother’s loungeroom in England. The ceiling was so low I could put my hand up and touch it, and it had been dark since 4am. And I was staying up late to watch Trainspotting for the first time. As I watched this strange young man on the electric television, and saw him wearing his skinny jeans, running around the streets and taking drugs, one impression struck me and stayed with me ever since. His teeth are really really alarming.
Years passed, and I watched no movies with Ewan McGregor in them. Then came Moulin Rouge. And again I had to battle my fear… watching the movie was a rollercoaster ride of conflicting emotions and turmoil. Whole minutes passed without him showing his teeth, and I would begin to relax. Then he would show his teeth again. I would cringe and hide behind the sofa.
It seemed he was everywhere. Friends learned of my terror, and took to emailing me photos of a smiling Ewan McGregor… I haven’t recovered from this affliction, as time passes it becomes no easier. But I have learnt to manage my problem.