Long before Richard Gere became famous for playing sophisticated romantic heroes, he was already exploring one of the most intriguing contradictions of his screen persona: the man who could be irresistibly attractive without necessarily being the one who held all the power.
In American Gigolo, Paul Schrader created a character who initially seems almost impossible to admire. Julian Kaye is a highly paid escort in Los Angeles, living among wealthy women, expensive clothes and an immaculate lifestyle. Yet beneath the perfectly controlled exterior there is a profoundly lonely man, someone who has learned to turn intimacy into a profession because genuine emotional connection frightens him.
And there is an interesting reversal here when we look at Richard Gere himself.
He was still relatively young when he made the film — only 30 — while Lauren Hutton, who played Michelle Stratton, was 36. That six-year difference may seem modest today, but it was unusual enough in Hollywood to be noticed, particularly because Hutton plays a woman who becomes deeply attracted to Julian.
For me, this makes American Gigolo even more fascinating today.
How Richard Gere became Julian Kaye
Paul Schrader wrote and directed the film, originally developing the idea of an American gigolo while teaching screenwriting at UCLA. He was interested in creating a character whose entire identity depended upon giving pleasure to others while remaining emotionally detached himself.
Richard Gere was not the first choice for Julian. John Travolta had originally been attached to the project, and Christopher Reeve was subsequently offered the role after Travolta withdrew. Both ultimately passed, and the part went to Gere.
Looking back, it is difficult to imagine anyone else in the role. Gere brought something essential to Julian: beauty without arrogance, sensuality without vulgarity and vulnerability hidden beneath an almost impenetrable surface.
Julian is a man whose entire existence revolves around appearance and control. Until everything begins to fall apart.
The woman who sees something more
Julian meets Michelle Stratton, the neglected wife of a powerful senator, played by Lauren Hutton.
Initially, he does not even regard her as a potential client. Their relationship develops differently from the transactional encounters that normally define Julian’s world. Michelle becomes emotionally involved with him, and Julian gradually discovers something he has never really allowed himself to experience: love without a price attached to it.
Lauren Hutton is wonderful in the role. There is something particularly elegant about the way Michelle’s attraction to Julian develops. She isn’t simply fascinated by his physical beauty. She recognizes the loneliness beneath his carefully constructed persona. And Julian, despite everything about his profession, treats his clients with a certain courtesy and attentiveness.
That detail has always struck me. He may be selling an illusion, but he doesn’t necessarily treat the women who hire him as disposable. There is a strange tenderness in some of his encounters, as though he understands that many of these women are searching for affection and companionship as much as physical pleasure.
The Armani moment
And then there is that wardrobe. One of the most unforgettable sequences in American Gigolo is Julian standing before his enormous collection of clothes, carefully choosing what he is going to wear.
Shirts. Ties. Jackets. Textures. Colors. Everything arranged with almost obsessive precision. And the clothes are Armani.
The collaboration between the film and Giorgio Armani became legendary. The production had originally arranged Armani clothing for John Travolta, who was expected to play Julian. When Richard Gere took over, the garments were altered to fit him. Armani’s minimalist style and Gere’s physical presence ultimately became one of the defining visual combinations of early-1980s cinema.
There is something almost hypnotic about watching Julian decide what to wear. He isn’t simply getting dressed. He is constructing himself. The clothes are his armor. His identity. His profession. His seduction. And Richard Gere wears them with such extraordinary naturalness that the image became inseparable from the actor himself. Paramount has even described the wardrobe sequence as one of the film’s indelible images.
More than a gigolo
What I find most interesting about Julian is that Paul Schrader refuses to make him simply good or bad. Yes, he is involved in a profession that many viewers may find morally questionable. Yes, he is initially emotionally detached and deeply self-centered. But then the murder happens. A wealthy client is found dead, and Julian becomes the prime suspect. Suddenly the sophisticated world he has built begins collapsing around him.
And this is where Richard Gere’s performance becomes particularly interesting. Julian stops being merely the beautiful man in the Armani suit. We begin to see his fear. His loneliness. His desperation. His need for someone to believe him.
Roger Ebert observed that the film deliberately makes Julian sympathetic, transforming what could have been a conventional criminal figure into something closer to an antihero.
That is exactly what I feel when I watch the film. I don’t necessarily approve of Julian’s choices, but I care about him. And that is a very different thing.
My view
For me, American Gigolo remains one of the most important films in Richard Gere’s career because it contains so many of the qualities that would later define him.
The extraordinary beauty, of course. The sensuality. The elegance. But above all, the ability to make a complicated man human.
I also love the age-gap reversal represented by Richard and Lauren Hutton. Today, an older woman falling for a younger man is hardly shocking, but in 1980 the dynamic had a particular freshness. And Lauren Hutton was not reduced to the role of the older admirer: Michelle is intelligent, emotionally vulnerable and ultimately courageous.
Richard, meanwhile, is allowed to be beautiful, desired and vulnerable at the same time. That is one of the things I admire most about him. Julian Kaye could easily have remained a cold, arrogant and morally ambiguous character. Instead, Richard Gere gradually reveals the man behind the image. And perhaps that is the real seduction of American Gigolo.
Richard Gere and the age gap in reverse: when he was the younger man
