Interview With the Actor

By Chrissy

Hello! My name is Ellen Calder and in 1994 I was a free-lancer, selling my articles to magazines such as Playgirl and Detour. I want to tell you about a special day in my life. The day I met Antonio Banderas.

When a Hollywood movie is about to be released, the actors in that movie must agree to participate in what is known as a junket. They face up to 100 interviews in one grueling day and must smile sweetly and promote their movie to its absolute fullest.

On this particular day in 1994 I am at the Beverly Hilton to interview the three actors from the movie 'Interview with the Vampire'. Outside the hotel hoards of screaming teenagers holler the names "Brad" and "Tom" over and over again. However, I was to discover that day that the true 'star' of the film [in my mind, anyway] was Antonio Banderas - the 'Latin hunk' newly arrived from Spanish shores.

It's a hot, humid day. The junket begins early. The mass of reporters are unceremoniously herded into the hottest stuffiest room in the entire hotel and must wait their turn to interview the actors according to a list held by a tyrannical woman totally impressed with her own enormous power. Hanging around is boring and frustrating for the beleaguered journalist. But we're used to it.

Finally, late in the day, I am granted access to the large room containing Brad, Tom and Antonio and a plethora of assorted noisy people. Each actor is sectioned off in a portion of the room. It's chaotic, but at least it's air-conditioned. My interview is for a magazine so I don't have to worry about makeup or hairstyle for the camera. Miscellaneous individuals check my credentials and order me around, telling me where to sit and wait my turn.

Both Brad and Tom's army of 'people' want to review the questions I will ask and they cross out in heavy black markers the ones that are not considered appropriate. Many of my questions are erased. I'm viewed suspiciously by both Brad and Tom's 'people' -probably due to my affinity with such magazines as Playgirl - but it's listed in my bio that I've won several prestigious journalistic awards, so my reputation precedes me and I am reluctantly welcomed with tight smiles.

My first interview is with Brad Pitt. Blond, blue-eyed and very attractive, today Brad goes out of his way to hide his looks under bleached straggly hair, never meeting my eyes, answering my questions in monosyllables, and squirming in his seat. He's looking tired and restless. Not a good sign. The interview is difficult and tense. Brad is shy and tongue-tied -- an interviewer's nightmare.

I move on to Tom Cruise. This is better. Tom is charming and answers my questions with wit and intelligence. However, there is a definite calculation in his charm - there is nothing impulsive or quick about Tom. It's a planned approach. He's clipped, careful and polite. He is attractive, but not as sexy as Brad. In fact, I'm struck by the notion that there is nothing particularly sexy about Tom at all. Still, we sail easily through the 8-minute interview and I make lots of notes for my article.

Now it's my turn for Antonio. I am very interested in meeting Antonio Banderas. A few days before I had taken the opportunity to view the movie 'Interview with the Vampire' and it had been the wickedly sensual Armand that had caught my attention the most. So much so, that the very next day I visited a local video store and rented 'Law of Desire' and 'Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down'. I was eager to see more of this Spanish 'hunk' everyone was talking about. I have to say I was blown away by Antonio's performance and made a mental note to rent more of his Spanish work.

So it was with great curiosity that I approached Antonio's section of the room. He was still in the process of being interviewed by the TV show 'Access Hollywood', and it was obvious he had the female reporter wrapped around his little finger. Any one could see he was flirting outrageously and the woman was sucking it all up with foolish giggles and fluttering eyelashes.

As I watched him in action the notion flashed in my mind that no woman had ever had to 'fake it' with this man. He had about him a promise of sexual fulfillment and satisfaction that was hard to resist. Earthy and sensual, this man had been born to please a woman, especially in the bedroom.

As Antonio was not very well known [at the time] he was not surrounded by a bevy of 'people' to protect him. No one wanted to inspect my questions or review my bio. Compared to Brad and Tom, it was all very casual over in Antonio's corner of the room.

However, the casualness did not extend to the area of etiquette. When it was my turn to interview, Antonio surprised me by standing up from his chair and shaking my hand politely. He made a mental note of my name by saying, "Pleased to meet you, Ellen," and he did not sit down until I was seated. Neither Brad nor Tom had bothered to memorize my name or even to rise and shake my hand. I'd only known Antonio for mere seconds, but already I was very impressed.

However, once seated opposite him, I was to find that meeting those intense amber eyes was going to prove quite a challenge. Antonio's gaze is direct and commanding and he listens - REALLY listens. I'm originally from England and he picked up on my accent right away, asking where in England I was from and asking questions while we settled ourselves to begin the interview.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked politely as I took up my pen. Being a smoker myself I said I didn't mind.

"I get so nervous," he went on, lighting his cigarette. "It's difficult to speak a language I've only just learned."

I swear my eyelashes fluttered of their own accord and I found myself twirling my hair in my fingers like an infatuated schoolgirl. Just like the reporter from Access Hollywood, I was instantly captivated. This man cast a sensual spell. Next to Antonio, Brad and Tom faded into the woodwork. The guy had charisma radiating from every gorgeous pore.

"Oh, your English is great," I replied flapping my hands in the air like a fool.

He looked at me dubiously, one eyebrow raised. "We have not even interviewed yet," he laughed. "Just wait to see. I will make the mistakes. Lots of them."

My own nervousness was such that I pulled out my own cigarette with shaking fingers. Ye Gods! He was overwhelming. I wanted to rip off his clothes and go down on him right there and then. I wanted to lick him, taste him, suck him.

I sucked hard as he leaned forward and lit my cigarette for me. "Gracias" I mumbled, blowing out smoke.

"You're welcome," he smiled. His eyes crinkled, his teeth were very white. Oh God! Now I'm squirming in my seat.

As I gathered my scattered thoughts, I watched as he stood up to tuck the lighter into his skintight jeans. He wore black from head to toe. Black jeans strained against the bulk of his genitals and his torso was encased in a tight black T-shirt consisting of some kind of snug spandex type material that clung to every muscle, every curve. Antonio was not tall. He was not overly muscular. Yet he was perfect. Compact and lean. Well proportioned and beautiful.

Open mouthed, I gazed at him. He wore his hair long and curly. It spiraled wildly about his face. His face. THAT face. Wide spaced amber eyes, thick velvety eyelashes. His dark skin is smooth, lustrous and firm. His lips pout delectably soft and yielding, designed to be eternally kissed.

There are no words in the English language to adequately describe Antonio's features. Handsome? Attractive? Beautiful? No - those words don't cut it. Maybe there are words in Spanish. I make a mental note to learn Spanish as soon as possible.

Antonio emits a sense of primitive, contained energy. You get the feeling he might suddenly dash from the room at any second, just for the sheer pleasure of moving, of feeling the wind in his face. Sitting still in one spot for hours on end must be a terrible chore for him.

These thoughts are flying through my mind and I must have been staring. Seconds had passed without a word from me. But he settled lazily back in his chair waiting and smoking. He must be used to this reaction, I think. His amused eyes watch as I fumble with the papers in my lap.

I look up at him. My heart thumps as my eyes lock onto his.

"Do you believe," I say, hoping my voice is strong and professional, "that an actor is born? Or do you believe that acting is something to be studied and learned over a lifetime?"

He stares at me wide eyed. Then he smiles a warm surprised smile. "Do you know what I am thinking?' he says.

"No what?" I return, wondering at his words. "What are you thinking?"

"I am thinking that THAT is the first interesting question I have been asked all day."

I smile, pleased as punch that I had wowed him.

"Oh, I've got all kinds of questions just as interesting," I remark, flicking ash on the floor and rustling my notes with shaking fingers.

"I was born to act," he replies with passion. "I know that for sure because it is the only thing for me. But I also believe that an actor will never stop learning. For he cannot stop. Never stop testing the talent. Never stop evolving. If an actor pauses for breath, he will stagnate. You know, I watch my performance and I want to edit. And edit. To do it again. And again. Maybe this profession is illogical. We can never attain our best. We strive for excellence, but it will never be realized inside our actor's hearts. We cannot rest. No actor can ever rest. Or stop."

His words are breathless and jumbled, yet I know exactly what he means. He went on to say much more, but you'll have to read my article if you want to know every fascinating word.

Compared to Brad and Tom's monochrome demeanor, Antonio is intense. Yet he is overwhelmingly likable and friendly. We find ourselves chuckling over some abstract remark, leaning into each other in an amiable camaraderie as if we had known each other for years. He throws back his head when he laughs. He laughs from his belly. It's real and genuine

As I watch him respond to my questions, I realize that Antonio is a man genuinely in love with his profession. Unbridled enthusiasm abounds in every word, every wild gesture. Antonio speaks from the heart. He may not properly know the language, but his words carry a passion so clearly missing from Brad and Tom. Antonio will work hard. He will work with joy in his heart, with love in his soul. Blockbuster or dud - Antonio will approach every project with enthusiastic fervor and zeal.

His life will be filled with joy. On that day as I sit opposite him, I am convinced of it.

I ask more questions. He replies with eagerness and a sincere openness that delights me. However, I have to memorize his responses. I cannot look away. I don't want to take my eyes from his expressive face. My pen lies uselessly in my lap.

I sit mesmerized, watching the animated beauty of his features. One question, however, clouds the sunshine.

"Is acting lonely?" I ask.

For the first time a solemn expression from him. He sighs. "It's lonely. Hotels are lonely, you know."

"Your wife is an actress?" I continue. "Is she here with you?"

He shakes his head. "Ana is in Spain," he says. "I have not seen her for a long while. So I am lonely for everything."

I get the definite impression that all may not be well in his marriage, while my aroused libido zeros in on the words 'lonely for everything'. 'Everything'? Does he mean 'sex'? A man has needs, especially a man such as this.

"Ana does not like it here?" I ask, licking my lips and watching carefully.

He shuffles. I notice that another cigarette is quickly lit. "She likes it. But she is busy, you know. She has other interests for these days."

"Your time is up," a caustic voice rudely interrupts the intimate world of Ellen and Antonio. A man with a watch is looking at me sourly, "You only get ten minutes, lady."

Ten minutes? Had ten minutes really gone by? Reluctantly I rise up from my seat and gather up my things. Several notebooks and pens clutter to the ground and Antonio is quick to retrieve the items and give them to me.

"You wrote nothing," he says with a grin.

"I've got a good memory," I reply, heart thumping.

The next interviewer moves into my chair. "Do you believe in vampires?" I hear him say. Despite this being the hundredth time he has heard the question, Antonio answers with a vitality that wins the guy over instantly.

No one seems interested in me any more so, instead of exiting the crowded room, I lean up against a wall and watch Antonio. I am under his spell. I am fascinated.

Another hour goes by, interviewer after interviewer sits in my chair and within seconds they are captivated by the attractive Spaniard. I see it happen over and over again. The men like him; the women are enchanted by him.

At last it is all over. The cameramen begin to pack up their equipment and people begin to leave the room. I stay where I am, leaning against the wall, hoping no one will shoo me away.

As I watch, to my absolute astonishment, Tom and Brad both make a beeline across the room to Antonio. It surprises me because the two main stars are much more famous than the Spaniard. If anything, I would have expected Antonio to actively seek out their company. But it is towards Antonio that both men gravitate and I watch as they do some 'male bonding'. They slap and swagger and laugh, repeating some of the ridiculous questions they have been asked. The three men have obviously become firm friends.

But their good time together ends quickly. Brad is pulled away to answer a phone call and Tom must change outfits for a special interview session. New make up is applied to his face as his 'people' pull him away.

Left on his own, Antonio looks up to see me leaning against the wall.

"Hi!" he smiles, "Er - Ellen?"

I grin back, flattered that he has remembered my name. "I'm going for a meal. Want to keep me company?" he says.

Eagerness must be written all over my face because he grabs my hand and leads me from the room, assuming that my answer is 'yes'. He turns to me as we enter the elevator, "Anything I say is off the record now, right?"

I smile teasingly, "Why? What are you going to say?"

He laughs and I notice that he has hit the button for the 18th floor. "I want to relax now, Ellen, I don't want to have to be careful all the time of my words."

The elevator moves upwards. "Okay, you got a deal. But where are we going?" I had assumed we would descend to the exclusive Stone Room Restaurant on the ground floor of the hotel. It was the place where most celebrities dined.

"To my room," he replies, "We'll order something to eat, if that's okay with you? I want to shower and change. I've been in these clothes since early in this morning."

Well, my dear readers, you had better believe that the pace of my heartbeat increased. Excitement flipped in my stomach. The thought of being alone in a hotel room with this gorgeous hunk of a man was extremely appealing. Yet I experienced a tug of apprehension. After all - he WAS Spanish and I'd heard all about sexy Spanish men. Married or not, he might expect me to put out. Still, I thought, as I stared as his handsome profile, the thought was tempting. I had to admit, I certainly would not fight him off if he tried anything. In fact, I hoped he would.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the door to his room and stood back waving his hand with a flourish to allow me to enter. I looked around. "Very nice," I remarked sweeping through the doorway with a grin. The room was of a movie star luxurious quality. Actually it was a suite, with a separate bedroom. It even had a working fireplace.

Antonio spun around in fun. "I love Hollywood" he cried as he twirled, his arms outstretched, his curls flying. Then he stopped and looked at me out of breath. "In Spain I sleep on the floor of a friend when I make movies. In Hollywood I live like a king!"

Flopping down into the over stuffed sofa, I laughed with him. It was refreshing to see a man so lacking in cynicism, so able to enjoy life to its absolute fullest.

"Ahhh, but I have brought you here to eat. I have promised you a meal." Heads together we scanned the hotel menu and Antonio took up the phone and ordered our meal. Then, to my jaw dropping surprise, he stood up and suddenly pulled his T-shirt over his head revealing a tanned muscular torso that was quite unexpected to me. Antonio's build could be deceptive. In clothes, Antonio appears firm, but slim, yet naked one saw that his body was surprisingly well built and athletic. There was not one ounce of lose fat on the man. Antonio worked out, it seemed.

"I am going to hit the showers," he said, giving me a strange kind of comical salute. "Make yourself at home, Ellen."

He went into the bathroom and I heard the lock click. Not too sure of how I should 'make my self at home' in an impersonal hotel suite, I strolled over to the window. The view was breathtaking. I stood for a long while gazing out at the beautiful city before me twinkling with a million lights. The shower was still running, as I wandered around the room turning off lamps. I had just acquired a suitable intimate glow as the bathroom door opened and Antonio stepped out, surrounded by billows of steam.

He wore a white terry cloth bathrobe that contrasted nicely with the tan of his skin but covered his body from top to bottom. It was tied securely around his slim waist. "I'm back!" he smiled at me. I waved from my sofa.

He went over to the bar area. "Want a beer?" he asked. I said yes and he brought the two bottles to my comfy sofa. As he sat down next to me I noticed the clean soapy smell of his skin. It was wrong, I know, but I almost hoped that he would try something. That he would lean forward and kiss me with those delectable lips of his. But instead he picked up an untidy bundle of papers from the table before us. "This is the script of my next film" he smiled, "Miami Rhapsody."

"Oh" I flapped. My heart pounded as his nearness.

"I play a man named Antonio," he said.

"Oh?" I reply. I cannot keep still. My groin is aching for this guy. I want him to hurl me onto the floor and have his evil way with me. I want to feel his heavy weight. I want to gasp as his enormous cock enters me. I won't scream. Honest, I won't scream.

But instead he is intent upon the script for his next film. "You know what?" he says. "I have played a man named Antonio in many films."

"Yeah, like Law of Desire," I reply.

He stops dead. "You have seen this film?" "Yeah," I reply.

Antonio is astonished at the fact that I've actually seen the film. "What did you think?" he asks carefully, his eyes intent as they look into mine.

I take a deep breath. "It was marvelous. I really enjoyed it. But I think the movie is actually a love letter from Pedro to you. He was in love with you."

"Oh he still is," Antonio replies, his open innocence striking me. "But he knows I am not gay and he accepts it. But he loves me and I love him. In a different way, of course," he finishes with a raised eyebrow of emphasis.

There is a knock and Antonio strides over to open the door for the waiter bringing our food. I've seen steel domes covering food in movies, but I didn't know hotels actually did that. With a display of pomp, Antonio lifts a dome and inhales with exaggerated relish. From my vantage point on the sofa, I have to laugh at him. He is such good fun.

The pompous waiter arranges our food and Antonio hurries to give him a tip as he closes the door leaving us alone again. We move to the table and sit down. Antonio dishes food onto my plate like the gentleman that he is. He talks all the time. His English is rapid fire, his train of thought jumping about. Trying to keep up, I can only laugh at his words.

I am falling further and further under the spell of Antonio Banderas. What on earth is his wife doing in Spain? Why isn't she here with her husband? Ana must be a fool, I think. She is going to lose him to some long legged movie star. He's not only drop dead gorgeous, he's fun, he's charming, he's loaded with charisma, he's every woman's dream.

Forty-five minutes later we take our wine and retire to the sofa. I had laughed so much at the dinner table my stomach actually ached. Antonio was in possession of the most marvelous sense of humour and he had kept me in fits of laughter as I tried to eat and remain ladylike. I was enjoying myself immensely.

Once seated on the overstuffed sofa we sip our wine and light cigarettes. "I leave for Miami tomorrow," Antonio says. "Then I will meet Sarah Jessica Parker and we will begin our movie."

"It must be hard never staying in one place, having to live out of a suitcase," I say.

Antonio smiles, "But no," he says. "I love to travel. I love to meet new people. I could never live in one place for a long time. I have never even purchased a home in the United States."

"But that's so sad!" I remark. It seems a lonely life for a man who is so gregarious.

"I am a romad," he announces happily.

I frown, puzzled. Then I understand. "Oh nomad! You are a nomad!"

He laughs. He is always laughing. "That's me. A nomad with bad English!"

Antonio pours more wine, for our glasses are empty again. I am having the most fun I've ever had. I'm sucked right under his spell.

Antonio is thumbing through the script for Miami Rhapsody. "I have to kiss Sarah Jessica Parker," he declares. "Movie kisses are different to real kisses, you know."

"What's the difference?" I ask, swallowing a mouthful of wine. I am very aware that he is very close to me on the sofa. He radiates such a force of sensuality.

"I show you," he returns and suddenly he is leaning in and his soft lips are touching me. To my utter surprise he opens his mouth and his tongue finds mine. His hand comes up to my face and his fingers gently guide my head sideways as the kiss deepens and I sink into the sheer pleasure of the taste of him. Suddenly he pulls away.

His eyes are earnest and their amber gaze so close to mine. "You must not let the spit get out of your mouth," he says seriously. "And you must not squish the noses."

"Oh, I see," I gasp thickly. Swirling emotions are spinning through me. I sway stupidly, feeling I might even slide from the sofa to the floor.

Then his lips are on mine again and his tongue is warm and soft and moving inside my mouth. His hand gently guides my head into position and our kiss deepens and I am dizzy and crazy with runaway feelings inside. My breathing quickens. My bones melt. My world rocks about.

Then suddenly he pulls away and is gone. "See?" he says with a laugh. "That's a movie kiss."

Still leaning in toward him, disappointed at feeling cold empty air instead of his warm mouth, my eyes blink open slowly. I am swaying and muttering foolishly incoherent words. My heart is beating so madly I think a heart attack must be imminent.

But Antonio is totally unaware of the overwhelming physical effect he has just had on me. He is laughing again and talking, while I blabber stupidly and the room tilts and spins around me.

"But movie kisses are not so bad," Antonio continues. "They are easy for me. I have kissed many. I have kissed men. I have kissed women."

His words are coming from far away. I am still reeling from the kiss. The man is delectable. I want more. I desperately want more.

"How do you manage to keep your feelings under control?" I blabber, eyes glazed, stomach flip-flopping.

"I have no feelings when I kiss," he replies happily, pouring the last of the red wine into our glasses. "Only when I kiss Ana."

"Oh" I sigh, face downcast. It had rocked my world, but sadly our kiss had meant nothing to him.

Suddenly there is loud knocking at the door of the suite and the laughter and banter of male voices outside. With a puzzled look at me Antonio moves to open the door and Brad and Tom burst into the room. They are loud and boisterous.

"Come on, man!" They yell cheerily at Antonio. They are like little kids just released from the restrictions of school. I don't think they see me cringing on the sofa. "We have the go-kart track all to ourselves for the whole night."

Antonio hoots with joy, laughing. "I get dressed," he cries. "I beat you guys. You wait and see. This time I win!"

"Yeah, sure you will," Brad returns with amused sarcasm.

Suddenly Tom sees me. "Who are you?" he asks with surprise.

I have never felt so awkward in my life. "I'm just leaving," I mutter grabbing my coat and papers. I'm still dizzy from the kiss.

Antonio is pulling blue jeans on beneath his bathrobe. He looks up. "You can come too," he says, but I know I am not wanted. It 's the guys' night out and he's just being polite.

I shake my head. "Oh, I have to get going." I stumbled toward the door. "I'm late already."

I hear Antonio's voice. "It is nice knowing you, Ellen." I mumble something back and scoot through the door. Once in the elevator I totally collapse in a heap to the floor.

That kiss he gave me. That delicious kiss. The sensation lasted for months. Believe me - I dreamed hot lustful dreams every night, squirming in my empty bed, thinking of him, of his tongue against mine, or his warm fingers on my cheek. I remained celibate for almost a year not wanting another man to mar the memory of Antonio Banderas.

To this day, I continue to be mesmerized by him. I've watched the ups and downs of his career as the years have unfolded. I read the tabloids' account of his love affair with Melanie, and - like everyone else on the planet - I gave it six months.

But he stays wildly in love with his wife and now has a beautiful daughter. He continues to get a kick out of life. And he remains passionately tied to his country of birth.

And, despite some unexpected haircuts, his looks have not diminished one bit. If anything he has become more attractive with time.

The years have passed and I have moved on with my life, but I will never forget my interview with Antonio. A little piece of me fell in love and that love continues to this day.

He is one of the special people on this planet and he deserves all the happiness in the world.