Ryan Phillippe seemed to have an ideal life, with Hollywood success complemented by his perfect marriage to Reese Witherspoon. But, as the actor tells Donald Clarke, there's a big downside to life in the spotlight
In the olden days it was quite common - or so publicists would have us believe - for new stars to be discovered in beauty parlours and shoe shops. A talent spotter famously spied Lana Turner, one of the most successful actors of her era, enjoying an ice-cream soda in a milk bar. Such happy accidents are now rare, so I approached the legend that Ryan Phillippe, a pretty young actor from Delaware, had been discovered in a barbershop with some suspicion.
"Oh no, that's true," he says, laughing. "That was the beginning. I was getting my hair cut in Delaware and this woman spotted me. She got me into this modelling agency. I was growing up in a middle-class family with a vague idea I was interested in acting, but I had no idea how to get into the business. And then that happened."
Ryan is certainly a handsome fellow. Blond and chiselled, with startlingly symmetrical features, he would look comfortable wearing a cardigan on an old-fashioned knitting pattern or romancing Sandra Dee in a 1950s comedy. No wonder the woman in the barbershop dragged him off to Hollywood.
Those classic good looks have, however, distracted from his not inconsiderable talent. After dallying with modelling, Ryan went on to star in the soap opera One Life to Liveand movies such as White Squall and Cruel Intentions. By the time he married Reese Witherspoon, in 1999, many journalists had, somewhat unfairly, chosen to cram him in the same pigeonhole as bland glamour pusses such as Freddie Prinze jnr and Josh Hartnett. But Ryan had ambitions to do work that mattered.
"It isn't about sounding pompous," he says, anticipating an obvious criticism. "I just want to do films that have substance. I just want to do work that has resonance. I have no aspirations beyond doing good work. I am not looking to be Tom Cruise. I am happy making interesting films that don't have to compromise to work at the box office."
Phillippe has yet to run off and make a Hungarian film about heroin abuse among amputees. But, without quite abandoning the mainstream, he has stayed true to his convictions. In recent years he has appeared in Robert Altman's Gosford Park, Clint Eastwood's Flags of our Fathersand the Oscar-winning Crash. Now he turns up in Breach, a fascinating study of the downfall of one of the United States' most outrageous traitors. Ryan plays Eric O'Neill, an FBI trainee, who, in 2001, helped the authorities catch Robert Hanssen, an agent in the employ of the Russians for 15 years, as he sought to pass on yet another batch of secrets to his handlers.
Chris Cooper gives a predictably impressive performance as the repressed, fanatically religious Hanssen, but Phillippe, stuck with the less juicy role, also acquits himself admirably. He was assisted in his preparations by having the real O'Neill, now an author, on hand to offer guidance.
"There was a little bit of impersonation involved," he says. "But that's what an actor does. We create a character from our imagination, but it is nice to have some of that work done for you by having the real person there."
The film follows O'Neill in the weeks after his superiors, aware that Hanssen is a traitor, secure him a job as the older man's assistant. Phillippe must have mused on the connections between acting and working undercover. Both involve the creation of a character and becoming absorbed in a creative lie.
"That is true to an extent," he says, "though we are dealing with completely different ends of the scale of importance: national security and acting. There are those elements to being an FBI guy that involve keeping things close to your chest. You can't be as truthful as you like. There are similarities there with an actor trying to get people to believe he is somebody else."
It is interesting that he chooses to assert the relative unimportance of acting. A lot of his colleagues seem to believe it is the greatest of all callings. "It can be a silly business, but it can also be pretty powerful. I love when a movie encourages conversation. Crashwas a good example of that. And I think this film should do the same thing."
Phillippe sounds like a sensible young man, and a glance at his CV suggests that he has always been prepared to take chances with his career. Fifteen years ago he was offered a regular role on One Life to Live. There was, however, a potential problem: his character was to be the first teen gay character to appear daily on a US daytime drama. Even now, many actors - including some gay ones - baulk at playing homosexual parts. Back then there must have been some pressure on him to turn down the role.
"It was still a hugely difficult situation back then," he says. "I was in Catholic school in a very small provincial town. I was 17. I was figuring myself out still. This was the first gay teenage character in a TV series. The climate was not as receptive then, so it was a risk. But I really do think things have changed now. I am hoping to appear in a film by Gus Van Sant about Harvey Milk, the gay mayor of San Francisco. Sean Penn is the lead, and I would play his lover. That would have been much harder 10 years ago."
After appearing opposite Jeff Bridges in Ridley Scott's White Squall, a film about a notorious shipwreck, Ryan saw his star begin to ascend. As is ever the case in such stories, the joys of celebrity were tempered by a rise in press intrusion. Still, he can't deny that the desire for fame was a spur in those early years.
"Oh sure. That was the drive when I was a kid," he admits. "I wanted to make money because I didn't come from money. I wanted to be famous. As far as the downside goes, you have to understand that the intrusion and speculation have got so much worse since I started. The comments on the internet and magazines are now so vicious that you have to tune it out or you would just go crazy."
He is, surely, thinking here about his messy divorce. Witherspoon and Phillippe met at her 21st birthday party, in 1997. Two years later the couple married. They have two children and, for a few years at least, were put forward as Hollywood's perfect young couple. Then stories began to circulate that Witherspoon's galloping success - she won an Oscar for Walk the Line- was causing friction in the marriage. Another rumour suggested that Ryan had become involved with one of his co-stars. Whatever the truth of these tales, the couple eventually split up late last year. After some legal ructions, Phillippe secured joint custody of the kids.
"Even before the divorce the press would pit us against one another," he says. "They would cast aspersions on my character. They would say I was jealous of her. I don't think the divorce exacerbated that much, but it did make for a sexy story. They knew they could splash that all about the papers."
Does he blame the coverage for the break-up? "Oh no. Look, you have to take responsibility for whatever path your life takes. There are certain things about this job that make it more difficult to live your life. A lot of people might say that is an impossible atmosphere in which to maintain a healthy relationship. But you have to take responsibility."
Ryan took a break recently to see more of his children, but he admits that Ava and Deacon do not enjoy having celebrities as parents. "My daughter does not like it at all," he says. "She hates that her parents are famous. The paparazzi really scare her. It really freaks kids out to have grown tattooed men with criminal records follow them about. She doesn't like how kids will come out and befriend her, just because of who her mom or dad is. That's very hard."
Angry now, he wags his head and stares sadly out of the window. "People often ask me if I would like them to be in the business, and I have to say no. I would not like people to write things about them like they have written about me. I wouldn't be happy if they went into the business." Best keep them away from the barbershop, then.
Breach is on general release