Elle Magazine










LOWE AND BEHOLD
By Cat Behan
Photos By James Dimmock
November 2005


Elle's Cat Behan meets beautiful bad-boy Brat Packer turned respectable West End actor, Rob Lowe .

We meet in the dingy London rehearsal rooms for the play, A Few Good Men.  Sometimes he looks right at me, which makes me unable to breathe, and sometimes he has problems looking at me, which creates a similar tension.  He is, ultimately, one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen, yet you can tell he is not at all comfortable with his gorgeousness.  He never wanted to be taken at face value.

His eyes are the bluest blue you've ever seen. His mouth is the perfect pout that people would beg their surgeons to create in collagen.  His hair is short and tousled for his character Lieutenant Daniel Kaffee, in the play.  He runs his hands through it and you want to as well.

In a way he's had two entirely different careers.  In the 80s, he was part of the Brat Pack, where pouting pretend bad-boy actors ate the screen.  A sex scandal, when he spent a crazy night with two girls at a Democratic Party conference in support of presidential hopeful Michael Dukakis in 1988, blighted this first career.  One of the girls later tried to sell a video tape of their night together. He survived it rather well.  I'm not sure the Rob Lowe in front of me was very fond of that other Rob person. Perhaps it was a subconscious desire to get rid of him altogether.

Rob Lowe was born again doing quirky comedy cameos in Austin Powers and then went on to total resurrection as the character, Sam Seaborn, in the long running, multi-award-winning TV political drama, The West Wing. People wept the day he announced he was quitting.  'I was in the gym working out and it was on CNN,' said Rob. 'I'm on the treadmill and everyone on the 10 treadmills beside me said, "Why?"  My stock answer is there's an art to knowing when to leave the party.  Every great long-running show has great years.  If there's an ER with George Clooney in it, it's going to be great. The West Wing experience was like being in the Beatles.  It's still one of the best shows, but when Aaron Sorkin [the series creator and writer] left, it wasn't going to be the same. And the truth is, I missed Aaron's dialogue.  I hadn't seen his play A Few Good Men done in 16 years and thought maybe he'd be interested in doing a revival.  So I called him up and before I could say anything, he said "I've been busy polishing, A Few Good Men for its West End debut." I said, "I want to do it" and he said, "Great". It was the quickest, easiest deal of my life.

The play is about abuse in the military in 1986, and was first performed in 1989. 'I think if you're going to deal with a topic that is divisive, it is better to do it through a prism and put it in the past and the audiences can draw their own parallels to current situations. The themes are still just so unbelievably relevant.'

He orders his lunch -- veal pizzaiola, vegetables and three coffees; he's already an expert on local West End takeouts. 'My entire family is relocating here, and I'm very proud of them.  It's hard for a nine and an 11 year old [Matthew and Johnowen] to leave their dogs, their friends and their school.  We tried to bring their dogs but, believe me, it's easier to get a terrorist into this country than an animal, and can you please quote me in big caps?'

He clearly loves it that his wife, Sheryl, and kids want to be with him.  One feels it is integral to his emotional survival.  He has said many times that the movie life is no place for married people.  They make sure they are never separated for more than three weeks and that is why he chose to do a lot of television, which has more stability and usually doesn't require far-flung locations.  The family lives not in LA, but in the calmer Santa Barbara.

He and Sheryl first met because they were in the same social circles, but the moment they really connected was when they did a movie called Bad Influence in 1990. She did his make-up. 'We became friends and began dating pretty much right after the movie stopped.  We went on a tour around the world promoting the movie, and I took her with me -- to do my touch-ups.'  By the time they arrived in Australia, they were staying in a cottage where there was a piece of driftwood over the door that said 'Rob and Sheryl'.  He still has that piece of driftwood.

You can imagine all these women throwing themselves at him unconditionally, letting him do whatever he wanted and treat them however he wanted. Sheryl made it simple. It was either her or partying. 'It just so happened that at the time she was wanting that from me, I was wanting it for myself. I was looking for a way out. I carried what they call an alcohol interventionist card in my wallet for a year. It's a woman who helps you to get sober. What does that tell you?'



Can you usually be easily persuaded to do something? 'Hell, no. I'm 41 years old and it's hard to get me to eat my vegetables.'

He shovels in mouthsful of veal enthusiastically. Obviously not on a diet. 'I don't eat like I did when I was 19.  Then I was a fast-food kind. I still am. Very American in that way.  But I'm eating an all-protein lunch so there's method in my madness.  And although I'm not on any particular programme, what works for me is consistency.' He looks right at me to stress it. 'I am a runner. I love to run. My favourite thing about coming to a new city is running, to discover it.' He's done Hyde Park, King's Road and Great Windsor woods. You get the sense that he needs consistency like he once needed a drink.

'I got sober at 26. I still go to meetings sometimes. However, I serve alcohol in my house and if you want to meet me in a pub, you want to get falling-down drunk, I'm good to go with you. Just for me, it didn't work. I have that kind of personality: compulsive. If I have a headache and it says take two aspirin to relieve pain, I think, well, four aspirin must really do it.  I have no regrets. I have learnt from it. You grow up, you get to watch your kids grow up. Everyone has to sow their oats at some times. I did it in my twenties. It wasn't who I wanted to be.'

Seeing Oliver at the age of eight was what turned him on to acting. 'As an adult, you might think that the best part is the Artful Dodger, but as a kid I wasn't sophisticated enough to think that.  Oliver is the title. You want to sing Where is Love? and have everybody go crazy.' Growing up, it may well have been a question he asked himself. The cosseting, caring, inspiring childhood he seeks to provide for his boys is certainly not the one that he had. 'I had two stepdads. Great guys. Nothing but the best intentions, but no consistent male presence. Looking back, I try to make sure I do it differently for my kids. Doing television instead of movies. Making sure I wasn't away for too long so they would have  consistency in their lives.'

In a relationship, are you a person who likes to love most or be loved most? 'Hellooo.' He draws out the word. 'A question you should never ask an actor. Actors are black holes of love. Me, I've had to do a lot of work on that.'

You mean you've looked for love in the wrong black hole? 'Yes, absolutely. But now I think I've been loved enough, otherwise life would be a misery.  I have my wife and my boys and that is just sublime.' Do you want more children? 'Don't know, but I sure like trying! That's a bad boy quote isn't it?'

You can't be bad and monogamous at the same time? 'Oh yes, you can. You've got to keep your edge. Monogamy is a bit like sobriety. Its undeserving reputation for being dull is probably kept alive by drunk people and has kept more people from children and more people from commitment and more people from making a great life with somebody than anything else.' He says this with a resonance that strikes you in your heart.

'I always love that movie, Shampoo [Warren Beatty plays a hairdresser who is an impossible womaniser],' he carries on, 'It's one of my favourites and a good reminder. I've always found it unbelievably sad underneath all the fun. I just never wanted to be him. I never wanted to be the guy at the top of Mulholland Drive watching the only girl I cared about driving away because I couldn't get it together.'

You are grateful with all your heart that it never happened to him. You are sad that he has got to go 'Give us a smooch then,' he says.

So I kiss him on the side of his lips and then on the other side to make it look super-friendly. But you know it wasn't without a frisson.




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