Leave your shoes at the door, please. In Richard Gere’s house — a chalet in the exclusive Madrid neighborhood of La Moraleja — a sign politely asks visitors to leave their shoes in the foyer. When the door opens, the first thing visible is a sort of mudroom filled with coats, boots, and sneakers. That’s where the shoes stay… and so does any fear of a stiff, overly formal interview with a Hollywood star. The meeting had been so hard to arrange that it nearly fell through several times. But once you cross the threshold of that home, the incredibly handsome actor from American Gigolo, the tormented soldier from An Officer and a Gentleman, the wealthy man who falls for a prostitute in Pretty Woman, and the tireless advocate for social causes is no longer just a Hollywood star. Or, of course, not only that.
The spacious and welcoming kitchen, with its terracotta floor and large windows overlooking the garden, is filled with children’s drawings and photos of his children and his wife, Spanish actress Alejandra Gere (née Silva) — the reason the actor decided to live outside the United States for the first time. They moved to Madrid last November. Between them, they have four children, two together and two from previous marriages. And three dogs: two friendly little Cavaliers, Bruno and Bruna, who go everywhere with them, and a fluffy white husky puppy that runs around the terrace between the olive trees and the soccer goals. On the enormous dining room table is a paper edition of The New York Times from that day, April 2, which coincidentally features a major story on the front page about the housing crisis in Spain. The children are at school and everything is quiet and peaceful except for the noise of the construction work being done on the house.
Richard Gere appears just like that, his white hair disheveled, smiling broadly with those small, almond-shaped eyes that have captivated generations of men and women around the world. He’s wearing a worn blue T-shirt and black jeans. When he looks at you, he does so with such attentiveness that you get the feeling he’s scrutinizing your inner self to decide what kind of person you are and whether he can trust you.
“Welcome. We can start whenever you want. Is the room next door okay for you?”
The cozy living room has a fireplace, travel souvenirs, family photos, pictures of Richard and Alejandra with the Dalai Lama, books by John Irving, and a small, round table next to a bright bay window. Gere is a warm and friendly person who carefully reflects on each answer and, despite his packed schedule, generously gives us more than twice the agreed time for both the interview and the photo session. He repeatedly insists that his profession is just another job. One that comes with fame and money (a lot of it), he concedes. “But there’s nothing special about it, and we’re not special beings,” he says. “We’re made of the same stuff as everyone else, and we must always keep that in mind.”