American Gigolo revisited, by Michael Stradford – The Tall Guy’s Gear Guide | @MDWorld

April 18, 2012 Michael Stradford 0 Comments

When Paul Schrader’s American Gigolo opened in 1980, I was already familiar with the genesis of the film.  Schrader, who was best known at the time for writing Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver, had written Gigolo for the then hottest star in the industry, John Travolta.  Coming off of the success of Saturday Night Fever and Grease, the world was Travolta’s oyster, and he saw American Gigolo as his next pearl.

However, Travolta and Schrader couldn’t come to terms on two important elements:  rate of pay and Travolta’s refusal to do nudity, so John opted out.  The part was also offered to Christopher Reeve, who turned it down, offended by the subject matter.  The role of Julien Kay finally rested in the lap of New York actor, Richard Gere.

Gere, a fast rising star, due to roles in films like Looking for Mr. Goodbar and Days of Heaven, had already carved out a bit of a reputation as a talented, good looking but ill behaved ‘bad boy’.  Whether deserved or not, his restlessness was an asset in giving Julien more depth than was necessarily written in Schrader’s noirish script.

Looking at the film now, I see the decadence, the loss, the shallow lives that all of the characters live.  I see the masks they all wear to hide the disappointment that their lives had become.  But in 1980, all I saw were the fly clothes that Richard Gere wore, his killer bachelor pad and the sleek midnight black Mercedes coupe.

(the car)

(the gear)

(the crib)

I had never seen a film that looked like American Gigolo.  From the elegantly written titles, to the sleek Los Angeles landscape, it looked like a world I’d never seen before, certainly not in my college town of Toledo, Ohio.  I went to see the film several times, drinking in the immaculate attire designed by Giorgio Armani (his first film) that fit Gere like it was made for him (it was).  The muted earth tones, clean silhouette of Gere’s suits and fine fabrics hit me like lightning.

(Giorgio Armani)

I started researching Armani, and quickly found out that I couldn’t afford one of his shirts, let alone a suit.  Nevertheless, I resolved to upgrade my personal style and approach, thoughtfully putting myself together as best I could, with whatever I had in the closet.  Those clothes that didn’t conform to the new image I wanted to carve out for myself, went out the window.  While not heading down ‘hustler road’, I did carry myself with more confidence and hopefully, class.  As I recall, it paid off reasonably well.

I can’t imagine what viewing this film for the first time would be like for someone today; dated, stiff and pretentious wouldn’t be totally unfair descriptions.  Gere was still sorting himself out, so he was more self-conscious than he would be in later films.  Lauren Hutton was still making the transition from supermodel to serious actress.  While she looks beautiful on camera and convincingly displays an aching vulnerability, Schrader unfortunately shackled her with a collection of unconquerable lines to essay.

(Richard Gere with Lauren Hutton) 

American Gigolo starts out as an interesting character study that quickly turns dark, kinky and dangerous.  The unexpected film noir element organically expands the story without distancing the viewer from what’s going on.  In fact, once the screws start tightening on Julien, we can actually sympathize with the hustler in a way we couldn’t before, when his defenses were firmly in place.

Now over 30 years old, the film may creak a bit, but it’s a great snapshot of American narcissism in the 80s and a turning point of mens fashion whose influence is still felt today .

Take care of your whole self and have an outstanding week!