Out onto the sun-dappled terrace, Richard Gere makes his entrance. His hair, which has turned silvery gray now, is layered back in a not-too-wet, not-too-dry style from his fearlessly tanned face. His smile, always a bit sullen even at its best, is in place. His linen shirt is crisp, even in the Cote d`Azur heat, his trousers are impeccably form-fitting, his cowboy boots catch the glint of the noonday sun.
And when he walks, it looks as if a wooden coat hanger were stuffed behind his shoulders, allowing everything below that point to roll loosely with the flow.
All in all, it is a very slick piece of work, this entrance of Gere`s; it is so smooth, so studiedly offhand, that it has to be something of a shock to Gere when no one notices him.
He stands there, a glossy, self-contained and self-regarding object of desire, and the minutes just string together like pearls. His impact is less than zero.
It wasn`t always like this. At the beginning of the decade Gere was hailed by Newsweek as ”the reigning new sex symbol of the `80s.” His salary per movie approached $2 million. He was hot.
Hating the hype
Today, Richard Gere doesn`t generate much heat. And he says that is fine with him, that he hated all that male-idol, sexual-icon hype. That for some reason-maybe because he took his clothes off for the camera more than any of his contemporaries, male or female-nobody took him seriously.
He wants to be taken seriously. So much so that, even though he is making this appearance at the Cannes International Film Festival to promote his new movie, ”Miles From Home” (premiering as a benefit for Steppenwolf Theatre at the Fine Arts Theatre Monday and opening in September), he is strictly limiting the scope of his interviews.
No hunky, kissy-feely, sex symbol questions. No inquiries about the recent break-up of his longtime relationship with the Brazilian beauty, painter Sylvia Martins. No fluffy, lite-brand talk.
Instead, Gere has announced, he will discuss ”Miles From Home,” which was directed by Gary Sinise, co-founder of Chicago`s Steppenwolf. But he would rather talk about his true loves: Buddhism, Tibetan politics, the state of world affairs and Zen-the form of Buddhism whose adherents believe in and work toward abrupt enlightenment.
The embodiment of anarchic sexual energy wants to discuss Tibetan politics? This actor of sizzling love scenes with Debra Winger, Valerie Kaprisky, Diane Lane and, in ”American Gigolo,” himself, wants to talk about Zen?
Has Richard Gere lost his mind? Did he have one to begin with?
`A human, not an actor`
”I am not interested in a career-having one, helping one, even losing one,” says the 38-year-old Gere. ”I`m a human being, not an actor.”
He leans forward, all intensity and silky-voiced. ”See, the creative process of acting is satisfying. But political issues are an obligation that goes along with the power base.”
Gere has always been willing to lend his celebrity to left-of-center causes. For years he worked on Central American issues, but, he says, ”I realized there were a lot of other people who could do that. So I weaned myself away.” Recently he turned up at Freedomfest, the anti-apartheid concert held in London, where he shared the stage with Whoopi Goldberg.
But these days, most of Gere`s political obligations, which he says take up 75 to 90 percent of his time now, are channeled into a New York-based organization called Tibet House.
”I started Tibet House last year,” he says. ”It`s a cultural and educational institution whose purpose is to save the culture of Tibet, which is being threatened by mainland China.”
The sound of silence
What got Gere started in all this?
He greets this question with a lengthy silence, one that spins out for such a long time that a listener begins to despair that Gere will ever respond. Finally, he says, ”The only way you get involved in this is an interest in Buddhism. You just get pulled that way. I`ve been a Buddhist for over 15 years.”
And what got him interested in Buddhism?
”I was a philosophy major in college, and the philosophy I was most interested in was called subjective realism,” he says, as if that explains everything. ”It says that all reality is fluid; it`s a function of the mind. This fluidity of mind that would express itself in reality is what the Tibetans would call emptiness.
”What do you think?” he asks with a laugh. ”Should I package this as a lecture?”
Yes, but. This explains why Gere got interested in Buddhism?
He sits there, emoting his famous blend of the ambiguous and the inaccessible, a vintage version of Julian Kay, his role in ”Gigolo.”
”Well,” he says, ”all things come out of emptiness.”
A boy from Syracuse
Gere came out of an average middle class family in Syracuse, N.Y. And while he may have started out as a philosophy major at the University of Massachusetts, he dropped out after his second year to pursue acting.
From the beginning of his movie career, with his first major role in
”Days of Heaven” (1978), Gere came across on the screen as trouble. His fundamental impact was sexual and his appeal was like a magnet that both attracted and repelled.
This quality wafted through all of his movies-”Bloodbrothers,”
”Yanks,” ”Looking for Mr. Goodbar”-culminating in ”American Gigolo”
in 1980. There, the posing, the narcissistic regard of oneself, the desperate hunger that Gere had always projected, was incorporated in the perfect role of an Armani-suited male prostitute who believes in self-improvement.
”An Officer and a Gentleman” (1982) was regarded as his breakthrough movie. As Zack Mayo, he wasn`t just an alienated guy; he was a vulnerable alienated guy. And his torrid lovemaking with Debra Winger (who has since given interviews saying they really couldn`t stand each other) was electric.
That movie changed Gere`s career. It boosted his salary, offered him a wider range of acting roles, brought on a torrent of publicity (none of which mentioned his being a Buddhist). And then the real trouble began.
Hot temper, cool reviews
Gere proved not to be too comfortable with his success. There were shoving matches with photographers, some public displays of temperament.
The movies that followed-”Breathless,” ”Cotton Club,” ”The Honorary Consul,” ”Power,” ”King David,” ”No Mercy”-drew mixed responses at best. At times he seemed hopelessly miscast.
After a while, you just had to wonder: Was Gere sick of it all? The adulation? The burden of embodying a decade`s ideal of male sexuality? Was he trying to sabotage himself?
Over time, Gere has limited his availability for interviews. ”I don`t like to feel abused,” he has said.
But now he has a couple of reasons to change his mind about interviews. One, of course, is the Tibet issue, for which Gere has recently appeared on CNN-TV and ”Good Morning, America.” And, two, there is ”Miles From Home,” a part he says he took ”because I believed in the script, in what it said to me.” One of things that the script said was that Gere`s role wouldn`t require him to shed his clothes.
Set in Iowa, ”Miles From Home” tells the story of two brothers (Gere and Steppenwolf ensemble member Kevin Anderson) who lose their fight to maintain the family farm. Rather than turn it back to the bank, they torch it and, in turn, become modern-day outlaws. One brother in particular, the one played by Gere, consistently makes the darkest and most dangerous choices. He is a desperado, someone who has to break the rules and bear the resulting wrath.
`Dangerous angst`
”From the beginning, I thought Richard was a natural for this role,”
says Sinise, the director. ”He has always brought a high-level intensity to his work; he has always demonstrated an ability to convey a certain sensitive, dangerous kind of angst.”
Adds Sinise, ”I don`t mind admitting that I was a little wary about working with Richard, though. Because I`d heard he was temperamental. But I saw no evidence of that at all. I can`t tell you how I relieved I was, because I just didn`t want to have to take him on. I don`t know who would have won.” Although ”Miles From Home” has a strong political subtext about the concerns of farmers in this country, Gere says that that`s not what attracted him to this role.
”To me, this isn`t a save-a-farm movie. Not at all. And I didn`t really get involved with this movie because of its politics,” Gere says. ”At least, I don`t feel that I have to speak out for farmers. The farmers have protectors. See, I don`t consider myself just a citizen of the United States. There are many experts on the farm issue, but there are very few experts on Tibet. And I`m becoming one of them.
”You know how I would describe this movie? It`s about two brothers on a farm who have a lot to live up to. In fact, I think you could even shorten that to just guys who have a lot to live up to. It`s about emotional weight and responsibility and loss. Yeah, especially loss. Especially emotional weight.”
Back to Zen
In some ways, it`s almost as if Gere is talking about himself and the arc of his career. Certainly anyone who`s embraced as the symbol of a certain time has a lot to live up to? Maybe even a lot to live down?
”All I can say about that is-” he pauses, his eyes careening around the perimeters of the terrace. ”Look, I`m a lot more relaxed now. I`m 38 years old. I`m not a kid anymore. There are very few daddies left for me, very few authority figures to be afraid of or to live up to anymore. I try not to drive myself crazy anymore.”
And does he equate this new tranquility with Zen?
”Sure. There`s a Zen of everything. For anything you do that has a way of being, there`s a Zen. It`s there.”
Another reporter, overhearing this last remark, breaks in. ”Are you using it now?” he asks, as if Gere were talking about a magic trick that relied on mirrors and strings.
For a split second, it looks as if this newfound tranquility is being put to the test. Then Gere recovers his poise. ”Yes, as a matter of fact. Absolutely. It`s a natural process. You get hungry, you eat. You get tired, you sit.”
You drive yourself crazy, you Zen out?
”Something like that.”
A new ending
Then Gere sits back in his chair, shakes his head and laughs. It`s a gesture from all his movie roles, one that encompasses all the quintessential Gere moods: frustration, energy, self-absorption, charm.
”What I like about `Miles From Home` is the flow, the possibility that both of these characters, as individuals, are going to survive. We had a different ending originally, a more rock `n` roll ending. But when we finally got to it, it no longer fit the film that we had done.
”Yes, I had input in changing that ending. See, I felt that my character was redeemable. And in the other ending, he was a lost character, definitely lost. But I can`t accept that. I believe that he still had a chance to find his own way.” –
