PN columnist Susan Cole had no qualms about ruthlessly exploiting her pregnancy, HIV positive status and good looks to get an audience with Richard Gere.
"There's a great terrorist on this planet at the moment," declared Richard Gere during a presentation at the International Aids Conference, in Bangkok, "and it isn¹t Osama Bin Laden. Aids is the biggest problem on this planet at the moment." The audience responded with rapturous applause. But to be frank, if he'd proclaimed that he had a big boil on his bottom, I fear the throng would have been equally satisfied. There was a ravenous appetite for Richard Gere at Bangkok, perhaps because there was a general shortage of high profile leaders at the conference.
I had boasted back in the UK that I was going to interview Richard Gere in Bangkok. I failed to mention that I was no closer to arranging an interview than emailing his people and being met with steely silence. I arrived in Bangkok armed with only the fear of ridicule and failure, driving me blindly to succeed and a pregnancy bump I hoped could be used in my favour. As I eyed his steel security circle, I realised it was going to be far trickier than I first anticipated. I set my sights on Richard Gere from an early age. My loins stirred as I watched him in American Gigolo, long before I knew the meaning of 'gigolo', or for that matter, 'loins'. I swooned as he rescued Debra Winger from the drudgery of factory life in An Officer and a Gentleman and Julia Roberts from glamorised prostitution in Pretty Woman. More recently, I carefully concealed girlie flutterings as he twinkled on screen in Chicago. I don't think I'm alone in my passion. He is a Hollywood rarity: an A-list celebrity who has maintained his A-list status (and sex appeal) across the decades. Richard Gere is a rarity in Hollywood for another reason - he seems genuinely committed to the fight against HIV/Aids. For more than 25 years, he has used his success to draw attention to a number of important global issues. He is a long-term sponsor of amfAR (American Foundation for Aids Research) and the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation and has won important awards from Amnesty International, the Harvard AIDS institute as well as collecting the Eleanor Roosevelt Humanitarian Award. An actor who simply wears a red ribbon to swanky parties, without a genuine interest in the issues, he is not.
I happened upon Richard Gere later that day, at a heaving press conference on the Global Media AIDS Initiatives. Okay, I didn't just 'happen' upon him, I carefully arranged a front row seat, like a crazed stalker. Again, an audience of supposedly serious journalists hungered for his comments and directed most questions his way. With PN's editor prodding me in the ribs and hissing "Go on! Stand up so they can see you!" I was picked as a 'proper journalist' and invited to ask my question which I directed at the entire panel (so not to appear a Richard Gere flunky). I asked about the negative impact the media was having in increasing stigma and discrimination around HIV/Aids. He chose to answer, recognising the mistakes made in the past, but hoping the media could now play a more positive role. I swooned, inside at least. I battled my way to the panel at the end of the press conference, through the pack of baying, wild-eyed journalists. I envisaged my unborn child crushed to death in the throng, but fear of failure silenced my maternal instincts. Instead of directing my attention to Richard Gere (surrounded), I focused with military precision on his colleague Bob Kelty. "Bob, I've been trying to get hold of you for some time. I need to set up an interview with Richard over the next couple of days,2 I said with pseudo authority. He wearily invited me to another talk the next day with a non-committal "I'll see what I can do".
The next morning, armed with PN's photographer Alex, I approached Bob Kelty. "I'm afraid Richard is too tired to do any more interviews", he said. "Too tired even to be interviewed by a positive pregnant woman?" I simpered puppy eyed, throwing away pride with wild abandon. A few moments later I was invited onto the stage to meet Richard Gere. "We'll do the interview straight after the session," smiled Richard, eyeing my bump with amused curiosity. "Where are you from?" "London," I replied, rather than the appropriate magazine name. Oh well, at least I didn't point to the chair where I had been sitting and say "I'm from over there". After the session, there was much frenzied activity, as Richard Gere, his entourage (and me) were bundled off to the next venue. We practically ran along corridors (not easy when four months pregnant, wearing four inch heels) as bouncers kept the whooping crowd at bay. Perhaps somewhat unethically, we were led into the supposedly positive people only lounge. "Here's where they can get fresh fruit," announced the guide, as the crowd of (hopefully) positive people flocked expectantly around Richard. He handed me a prickly, unpleasant looking fruit. Instead of saying "Actually I don't think you should be in here and no thank you," I accepted and consumed the fruit with cheery aplomb.
The interview took place in a private room in a restaurant. Private, in that a table of ten due to dine with him sat centimetres away and watched intently. "Would you excuse me," he said gallantly to his guests, "There's a pregnant lady over there who's waiting to talk with me," as I stood panting with exhaustion. I commented that he seemed to be committed to the fight against HIV/AIDS and asked what kept him motivated. He offered that he wasnt simply in it 'for the photo op', perhaps in criticism of other actors who were wearing red ribbons at events and doing very little else.
"With all these things, if it doesn't touch your heart, you can't give it the creative energy and time energy that it requires." He explained how his personal experience of people living with, and sometimes dying of, Aids, had fuelled his commitment. "Very early on, I think it was 1981, people were being diagnosed with HIV. It was in my community, the gay community, the entertainment world. If it wasn't close friends at that time, it was friends of friends. A couple of years later it was closer, it was friends and within a few more years it was close, dear, dear friends. At that point there was no way out. That was it." He talked about a close friend who had survived for more than a decade before dying of Aids about 18 months ago. "He didn't want anyone to know. He suffered from Aids even though he lived in Los Angeles and the entertainment community. I don't want anyone else to die like that."
His family's own experience also fuelled his commitment. "My brother is gay and certainly his world experience was close to me as well.
It was in my family, in my life. My brother was involved in the first Aids memorial quilt in Washington. My mother and father came down to Washington and we all campaigned. I'm still amazed at how emotions are still very close to the surface on this issue." I asked about his work in India. He is especially concerned about the spread of Aids in India and the lack of care facilities there for people living with the virus. He has worked closely with the NAZ Foundation, a non-profit organisation based in Delhi. He helped the foundation establish the first residential facility in India for women and orphaned children living with HIV/Aids. He set up the Gere Foundation India Trust in 1999 to support other programmes and recently launched the Heroes' Project in India, his HIV/Aids prevention campaign. "About five years ago I looked at myself and the amount of time I had left to be effective and do something meaningful whilst working in the Aids area. The work we had been doing in the US had been fruitful. I love India, I come to India three or four times a year. I asked myself, what can I do for them? Five years ago they were where America was 15 years before. I just knew if someone didn¹t get involved, if there weren't activists, they'd go through the same thing we did. The population in India is 1 billion, so if HIV wasn't caught early on, it would grow faster than it did in America. So it seemed to be worthwhile to focus my energies there and Bob [Kelty] and I tried to figure out how to do it." At this point Bob joined us looking a little agitated. "Can you ask just one more question please. There's a lot of people waiting to have lunch with Richard." I examined my long list of questions with bewilderment and randomly chose one more. I asked about US government¹s position on HIV/Aids. I mentioned that because of my positive status, I was deemed an 'inadmissible alien' to the US and would be barred from entry. What did he think about this policy?
He hesitated. "We tend to make laws especially when the Republicans are in power, but I guess the Democrats can be the same too. We have to have systems in place, but should look at what is that person's situation. If you're dealing with reputable people who are honest with themselves and honest with others, they are not a threat. I can also understand that there are certain individuals who don't take care of themselves and aren't responsible who may be a threat."
He was critical of the US government's position on HIV/Aids, particularly the Reagan administration. "We had a President Reagan who for eight years did not speak the word Aids once. He wouldn't allow it to be said in the Cabinet."
He has also criticised George W Bush and even Bill Clinton, claiming he did nothing to fight the epidemic while in office.
At the end of the interview, my maternal instincts once again kicked in and I asked for his autograph for my son James. As he signed, he lowered his voice and gently enquired, with apparent genuine interest: "Do you mind, um, can I ask you how you found out you had the virus?" I was astounded that this mega-celebrity was actually asking me a question. I told him about my American ex-husband and the routine HIV test by the US immigration department and their sensitive diagnosis of "the good news is you don't have syphilis, the bad news is you're HIV positive". He seemed shocked and continued to enquire about my experiences, expressing his sorrow. I responded that it wasn't so bad being positive in the UK and had led to a more fulfilling line of work. "Lots of people I've met have felt the same way," he replied, dazzling me with his charismatic twinkly-eyed smile. I melted. Richard, I'll be your pretty woman any day to your officer and gentleman. Even without the shopping trip down Rodeo Drive.
