The Evolution of Richard Gere

Once the epitome of a male romantic lead, the versatile actor has found a new direction in reengaging more daring pursuits.

If there is one image most moviegoers will conjure up when you mention the name Richard Gere, it will most likely be that moment he playfully snapped the jewelry box down on Julia Roberts’s hand in that most memorable scene in the now-iconic romantic comedy Pretty Woman. The 1990 film, coupled by his short-lived, yet high-profile marriage to supermodel Cindy Crawford, cemented his standing as one of Hollywood’s most romantic leading men and made him the top choice for any Hollywood script which had even of hint of a love story in it. Its fair enough to assume that, thanks to the last several years, a mention of Gere would also have those same moviegoers wondering: What happened to him? Where’s he been? As it turns out, Gere hasn’t vanished; instead he’s been off doing the best work of his entire career.

This spring, the Golden Globe-winning actor has two films opening up. The first, this month’s dramedy titled Norman, is total indie and sees Gere taking on the role of an invisible and desperate would-be New York “fixer” who tries every method he can think of to reach the inner circle of the city’s most prominent individuals. Then in May, Gere stars alongside Laura Linney, Rebecca Hall and Steve Coogan in the dark arthouse morality thriller The Dinner in which he plays a politician facing a dilemma when an incident involving his son and nephew threaten his chances at political victory. Gere has received numerous amounts of praise for both roles, not just for his performances in the films, but also applause from critics who have been continuously surprised by the new risk-taking Richard Gere they see before them.

The thing is, Gere was always a risk-taker, even from the beginning. Sure, titles such as An Officer and a Gentleman and American Gigolo, made him a sensation almost overnight, but those films accounted for only a fraction of his work as an actor during the late 70s and throughout the 80s. Looking at his filmography, it’s almost insane to think about how bold some of the choices the future king of romance made were. Most people forget about how Gere immersed himself as a political spin doctor in Sidney Lumet’s cynical Power or how he so effortlessly anchored Terrence Malick’s vision in Days of Heaven. Sure his instincts weren’t always spot on (such was the case with Francis Ford Coppola’s misfire The Cotton Club or Gere’s choice to play the title role in King David) but even the mistakes but showed the actor’s unflappable willingness to try different things.

With Pretty Woman came the kind of fame that rarely happens anymore. Already a name, the film launched both Gere and Roberts into a stratosphere very few reach. As a result, the actor had now breathed new life into the image of the movie star. But with the sweets come the sour and in Gere’s case, the sour was his career as a versatile actor. Following Pretty Woman, it seemed that every role the star took on was tied to romance, no matter what kind of vein the film was in. Final Analysis aimed for Hitchcock-like aspirations, and pulled it off for the most part, but not before parading a number of steamy scenes between Gere and leading lady Kim Basinger. Mr. Jones was meant to be an earnest look at a man struggling bi-polar disorder until the script had Gere’s character falling in love with his female doctor. Meanwhile, the post civil war drama Somersby, the mid-life crisis drama Intersection, and the medieval-themed First Knight (in which Gere played Lancelot) had him romancing the likes of Jodie Foster, Sharon Stone and Julia Ormond, while showing an actor who literally couldn’t get away from being Hollywood’s ultimate romancer.

Many can point to the dismal Runaway Bride ( in which the star famously reunited with Roberts and their Pretty Woman director Garry Marshall) as the pinnacle of Gere’s romantic leading man prowess. The film’s stupefying success is due less to the pair of frankly horrendous characters Gere and Roberts play and more to the powerful hold the two had on the public. But even Gere’s trance on female audiences (who in turn kept him prisoner as an actor, to a degree) began to wane as evidenced by the likes of Dr. T. and the Women (Robert Altman’s bizarre attempt to make a modern-day version of The Book of Job), Autumn in New York, Shall We Dance (where Gere was creepishly paired with the likes of Winona Ryder and Jennifer Lopez, respectively) and Nights in Rodanthe, one of the more digestible Nicholas Sparks adaptations, which still managed to make him and co-star Diane Lane look bored and tired.

There’s no question that there was a part of Gere who happily accepted these projects and the paychecks which came with them. But so much of him being seen as a movie star and less as an actor clouded the times where he WAS able to get away from anything romantic. Thanks to his star power, the actor the did manage to take a break from romancing Hollywood’s top leading ladies from time to time. Yet the law thriller Red Corner, the embarrassing remake of The Jackal and the so-so supernatural horror tale The Mothman Prophecies were each thwarted by the triteness that befalls most screenplays which reach Hollywood stars of Gere’s stature.

It’s hard to say if Gere had developed enough clout to venture out here and there, or whether the slight decline in his star status called for a much-needed detour on occasion. Regardless, Gere seemed to fare best in, and was lauded for, projects which weren’t built on his star persona or centered around his character romancing the leading lady. These successes usually in came in the form of ensemble films, which didn’t rely on Gere’s popularity to sell the movie, but rather on his talent to help carry the film along. Chicago, Unfaithful and I’m Not There. (by far the bravest he’d ever been as an actor up to that point) all represented comebacks of sorts. It was the kind of resurgence most actors would have killed for which brought him both critical acclaim and audience popularity. However, each success was short lived as Gere had to forfeit the majority of much-deserved attention to co-stars Lane, Renee Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Cate Blanchett.

Gere’s attempt to capitalize on any success and mix it up with projects which still called for him to be Richard Gere on some level, were fruitless as The Flock, The Hoax and The Double all felt like films which belonged in a bygone era in one way or another. It wasn’t long before Gere was resorting playing second fiddle to the likes of Hilary Swank’s Amelia Earheart in Amelia and a dog in Haachi: A Dog’s Tale. With his appearance in the disastrous all-star “comedy” Movie 43, things seemed to be over for Gere and his status. The era of the movie star was all but coming to an end and with it was Gere’s position as a box office draw.

And yet the change in his Hollywood standing has proven to be the greatest thing to ever happen to Gere as an artist. Gone are the scripts tailored to his persona with co-stars assigned to him based on their latest box-office profits. In their place is a bumper crop of independent filmmakers with scripts and parts rooted in societal examination and cinematic experimentation. No one actor has benefited more from the change in moviemaking quite like Gere. He’s taken the bull by the horns and shown himself as the consummate actor, ready, willing and more than eager to take on the kind of unconventional projects no one would have ever considered putting him in back in the 90s.

These days, Gere seems to be playing essentially two different kinds of men. The first are emotionally damaged individuals, which include a man maniacally trying to insert himself into the life of a young woman after feeling responsible for the accidental death of her father (also his best friend) in the dark drama The Benefactor and a homeless man who has written himself off to the point where he literally doesn’t even feel that he exists in the somewhat existential Time Out of Mind. The other current Richard Gere prototype seems to be swimming around the gray sea of moral complexity such as his retiring, disenchanted policeman in Antoine Fuqua’s compulsively watchable Brooklyn’s Finest or his hedge fund magnate trying to cover up his company’s failings and the accidental death of his mistress in Arbitrage. While Gere goes back and forth between these two sides (further evidenced by his turns in both Norman and The Dinner), the actor is able to tap into variations on such characters and turn in one complex and unique portrait after another with many a film critic proclaiming each one as the crowning achievement of his career.

It’s all a far cry from the lavish studio films which promised big budgets and wide releases. But who cares? That was for Richard Gere the movie star. Richard Gere the actor is here and he’s doing some of the best work of anyone in film today. He doesn’t care how he looks or if he gets the girl in the end, or if there’s even a girl to get. Gere has evolved into an actor who looks to lose himself in roles for projects which excite, challenge and no doubt scare him as an artist. Gere himself put it best during a recent visit to Charlie Rose to promote Norman when he stated in reference to his career: “I was very fortunate. There are no classes for this. No matter what you think it will be like, you’ll never know until it happens. And you either know enough to take a deep breath and step back a little bit…or not.”

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