Doin' Time on Planet Keanu

Reeves does more feet-jiggling, then says, "You know what's great? Right after I finished Dracula, I went to Paris to visit a couple of friends, shipped over one of my Nortons, my '72 750 with California plates, just hung out for two-and-a-half weeks. My Own Private Idaho had just opened at a theater right near my friend's house where I was staying. I got stopped by a couple of American students who'd seen it and they bought me a beer. Which is what you should do in Paris: sit in cafes, talk, hang out. I had miraculous weather, so it didn't rain on my parade. Then, I went to New York to visit friends, sat down, hung out, and the same sort of thing happened there. So, do I want more movies that lead to experiences like that? Yes, please."

Please? Given how frequently he's been winning many of the most sought-after roles in recent films, it'd appear that Reeves is already getting the easy pickings of the better available parts. "No waaaay," he insists, thumping the arm of his chair for emphasis. "It's only very recently that I've been approached with, 'Would you like to do this?' Mostly, I'm still auditioning, which there's something to be said for. Up to now, my only real choices have been: 'Hmmmm, an audition, go or not go? Go!' I auditioned seven times for Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and all the 'finalists' had to read with everyone else--me, Pauly Shore, Josh Richman, Alex Winter and others. I met with Coppola three times before he asked me if I wanted to play the part in Dracula."

Has he ever lusted after a role he didn't get? "Orphans-- word is God," he says, referring to Alan Pakula's movie version of Lyle Kessler's acclaimed play, in which Matthew Modine starred with Albert Finney. Didn't he also campaign to play Jim Morrison for Oliver Stone? "I auditioned a few times, but I don't think I was ever--" he says, and while he's gesturing in the air, I offer, "Seriously in the running?" Reeves shrugs and explains, "I was terrified. I just read some of Jim Morrison's poetry and listened to some of his music and did what I could." And though Reeves speaks animatedly about his and Alex Winter's "commedia di arte-type improvisations" in the two Bill & Ted movies, it's clear that he doesn't feature himself doing Ted again now that he's approaching 30.

"I just finished learning 'To be or not to be'; I want to know about Hamlet, I want to play Macbeth. I mean, I never stop. I mean, I look at people like Daniel Day-Lewis. Whew! He transcends. Robert De Niro. River Phoenix. Gena Rowlands. Just in the past three weeks, I've become devoted to trying to find a good project, a good script, story idea, anything. Before that, I was just--on vacation. Other people have been reading scripts and coming forth telling me what they like. But this is only recently that I've personally been reading scripts, talking, and meeting on things."

Are there certain kinds of roles he'd like to find and develop for himself? "How can I even answer that question?" he asks, incredulous, and when I point out that thousands have, he responds, "I can't. That would be a limitation. I have no idea. As an actor, I don't have an idealized part or anything."

It isn't only his career that he's been taking with new-found seriousness. Although Reeves can often be seen at Hollywood's groovier hangouts, it's most often with the same petite young woman and a close circle of friends. He admits that he's lately been "trying to catch up" with himself. He has his work cut out for him. Born in Beirut, Lebanon (his geologist father, from whom he is estranged, is Chinese-Hawaiian), he lived his first year in Australia, and grew up in Toronto. There, after running afoul of teachers, he enrolled in acting classes, did a TV series, some plays, and landed a commercial for Coke. Tired of playing what he once called "the best friend, thug number one and the tall guy," he drove to L.A. in a 1969 Volvo with $3000, crashed with his stepfather, and began landing castoffs (small roles in TV movies; a little-seen teen romp, The Night Before) before better offers came along.

Now, although he's on the movies' short list of under-30 comers, he keeps possessions down to a minimum: a couple of bikes, sound equipment, plenty of music. In fact, he feels he's just beginning to settle in. "L.A. has been my place of abode for seven years," Reeves explains, "and I have a little place in New York City. I don't even have a house house, but I have been living in the same place in Los Angeles for a couple of years and it's just now becoming a home. I like to be free and unfettered. I like the option of being able to do anything and go anywhere, anytime. I like to have my house open. A lot of my friends have keys to my houses and I like to have everything, you know, 'What's mine is yours,' and to drink wine, talk and hang out."

Since an interview isn't necessarily Reeves's idea of a good time, I ask him what is. He says, "Lying in bed with my lover, riding my bike, sports, happy times with my friends, conversation, learning, the earth, dirt, a beautiful repast with friends, family with wine and glorious food and happy tidings and energy and zest and lust for life. I like being in the desert, in nature, being in extraordinary spaces in nature, high in a tree or in the dirt, hanging out with my family, my sisters."

There may not be much time for hanging out, since he's soon off to Italy to join Kenneth Branagh, Emma Thompson and Michael Keaton in a Branaghized version of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, then returns to work with Gus Van Sant on a movie version of Tom Robbins's novel Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, about a hitchhiking gal whose odyssey takes her to such off-the-beaten-track locales as a lesbian dude ranch. After that, a raft of possibilities loom in the middle distance, including one project developed for Reeves about a three-time national amateur boxing champ who just missed making the U.S. Olympic team.

With an offbeat career dossier building up, does Reeves ponder what future pop culture critics will make of his career? "That sounds willful. I just hope I continue to get the opportunity to work with the caliber of people that I already have. I mean, I haven't seen William Hurt [with whom he made I Love You to Death] in a long time, but he'll stay with me forever. Hopefully people will, through relationships and things that I involve myself in, look back fondly and have a love for what I did." After a moment, he adds, "I'm sorry, man. My existence is not very noble or sublime."

After some 30 seconds of staring at his bike helmet, Reeves suddenly looks me in the eye and blurts, "Did you ever want to jump off a bridge onto the back of a truck?" Noticing my blank look, he adds, "I just remembered your flight of fancy. You know, about why I want to act? It's a question that arises every day. I mean, it's the meat of the matter. I just didn't feel like meandering, you know? I was trying to give you a clear, defined answer. So: did you ever want to jump off a bridge onto the back of a moving truck? That's the best way I can explain why I do it."

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Stephen Rebello interviewed Jennifer Jason Leigh for our September cover story.

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