Portrait of the Young Man as an Actor

Notoriously stable child star Jonathan Taylor Thomas demonstrates his awesome powers of diplomacy, describes what it's like to be the butt of Ellen DeGeneres's jokes, and responds to the question of whether he's ever had sex ("Noooooooo!").

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"This business is bizarre," 15-year-old Jonathan Taylor Thomas quietly announces, moments after we slide into our booth in a giant cheesecake emporium in L.A.'s famed Valley. Yes, even in this establishment, where the most mundane events seem like action staged for a theme park, what we just witnessed did seem bizarre.

Here's what transpired: a joyless little six-year-old, participating in some arcane ritual she apparently failed to comprehend, came up to Thomas and hit on him for his autograph. Whether out of shyness or business-is-business solemnity, she avoided even looking at him--in fact, she treated him so much like an object, she might as well have been sticking a card in an ATM machine. Thomas, for his part, was implausibly polite and gracious. "I liked it in Tom and Huck when Becky pushed you into the water," the girl informed him in a disembodied monotone. "And on Home Improvement," she added, referring to the hit TV show that's been on since before she could crawl.

Thomas grinned and thanked her with the practiced spontaneity of a political candidate. No sooner had the diminutive autograph hound disappeared than a young boy sauntered over. "My cousin likes you, but she's scared of you," he announced, jerking his head toward a prepubescent girl at a distant table who was pretending to be studying her menu. "Scared?" Thomas asked, laughing, "I'm only five-foot-four. What's to be scared about?" Amping up the charm, Thomas then asked the child's name, whereupon the boy's eyes opened wide with unpleasant surprise. "It's Jason," he boomed, clearly wounded that Thomas didn't know him the way he knew Thomas. Again, adroitly professional, Thomas tried to buddy up, but the kid turned on his heel and slouched off without even bothering to get the autograph. Yes, this business is bizarre.

"Ah, the adoring public," I comment. Thomas shrugs. "If someone had tried to explain this whole thing to me, I never in a million years would have understood it," he says. "Those kids just now are at least polite. There are times when people act like your life, your concerns don't matter to them. You can't let it bother you because it's part of the whole thing. It's something you have to learn to deal with."

You have to learn to deal with it only if you're a celebrity, I'm thinking. And if you ask me, no form of celebrity seems to have quite so much to deal with as child-star celebrity. Face it: most 15-year-olds neither know nor care about contracts, labor laws, line readings, photo shoots or shopping-mall diplomacy. For years, journalists have tripped all over themselves declaring Jonathan Taylor Thomas the perfect young Hollywood citizen, normal as from-scratch apple pie despite all the hoopla, exceedingly likable, a pro. He's reportedly smart and studious in school, responsibly parented, immune to wild behavior. He's the town's anti-Culkin. And right here in front of me, he's animated, articulate and clearheaded. But for my money, the phenomenon of a well-adjusted kid actor is a little unsettling. What does "well-adjusted" mean if showbiz is what he's adjusted to?

And indeed, though he may have come here fresh from private school classes, sporting inked initials on the backs of his fingers that spell out P.I.M.P. (the initials of his friends' names, he tells me), he is not remotely like any 15-year-old I've ever encountered in the real world. His eyes already know things, and the set of his newly forming jawline suggests a shrewd customer, however friendly.

"Are there any aspects of the business you never quite learn to deal with?" I ask him.

Although this can't be the first time anyone's ever asked him this question, Thomas makes a show of mulling it over, pursing his lower lip and tilting his head. Then, with preternatural poise, he observes, "You never really learn quite how to deal with frenzy. A couple of years ago, I was doing an event at Universal and, that day, they had a big cheerleading competition. I'm only five-foot-four now, but then I was smaller. The numbers of people there--it was just overwhelming to get, like, carried off in a big group and not know where you are. It was like a big mosh pit. Even when someone says, 'Well, you should just get used to it,' how can you get used to that whole feeling? It's not a natural feeling. But, mostly, I've always felt quite safe. And part of that comes from my belief that I live my life. I'm not going to live in a hole."

"It's a relief not to hear yet another young actor whine about what a bummer it is being great-looking, pampered, overpaid and overhyped," I tell Thomas. "What would you say to those guys?"

"I'd say to them, 'Go do something else,'" Thomas responds. "When I hear this stuff, I want to say, 'Yeah, well, it's rough and it can be frustrating and I certainly understand the need to live your life, but you chose this profession and you do have to make sacrifices. You cannot sit there and whine, 'Why is this happening?' You have to deal with it."

"But you are a kid, Jonathan," I say, hoping to tease out of him a little manic zip, a little aw-what-the-hell goofiness. "It's great if you don't whine, but don't you ever feel tempted to cut loose?"

"If I felt the need to cut loose, I would just--" Thomas accidentally drops his salad fork, reddens slightly, laughs, regains his equilibrium--"Hel-lo! See? There's an example of cutting loose.

"You know what, though?" he resumes. "I'm comfortable with who I am. I mean, I am cut loose. People have this conception that there must be this inner person that just wants to go and cause trouble. [But] I love to fly fish, to travel, to sit back relaxing in my room with the fan on, reading. Not every kid wants to go out and be crazy. Maybe it hasn't come out yet, who knows? [But] I'm comfortable. I'm happy."

Thomas certainly appears uncannily comfortable in his own skin. His TV screen persona, a spunky, good-underneath-it-all wiseass not unlike that of the young Michael J. Fox on Family Ties, is a natural extension of this easygoing manner. Can he broaden and deepen the colors of his palette? Can and will, Thomas seems to say. "I'm a balance," he observes. "I can do dramatic material and at the same time I can make you laugh. I don't think that's a quality you see in many young actors. Usually, it's one or the other. I'm also experienced for a person my age. The director doesn't necessarily have to tell me technical stuff like where to turn or move."

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