over from here—Top Chef, Fit Club, The
Apprentice, American Idol.
“I think American TV has even been
beating film over the past few years,” he
adds, citing The Sopranos as a favorite. “I
love the way that TV can relax now. It’s
audacious to plan for an audience to get
into a show after the third episode.”
His own audacity has led some in the
media to treat him like an animal—a variety
of them, actually. He has been compared
to a hyena (his laugh), a tiger (his grin), a
walrus (his shape) and a puppy dog (his
disposition), among others. Sometimes it
has been done in admiration, sometimes
not. And some critics have accused him of
being a one-trick pony, playing essentially
the same character in everything he does.
Gervais appears to take it in stride.
For him there is the legitimate press
(“There are some wonderful journalists
in Britain and America”) and there is
the gutter press (“I don’t care whether
Britney Spears is a good mother or
not—it’s just cheap speculation”). He
has made use of the latter: One memorable segment in Extras mocked tabloid
reporters who set off fact-free frenzies
across the media.
“No doubt about it: American press is
nowhere near as bad as the British press with
this,” Gervais laughs. “You’re amateurs. You
have bitchy Internet people here. … Well,
they get jobs on big papers in England!”
But never mind the paparazzi and the
pundits; after two months of toil in New
York, what interests Gervais is tweaking
the taste of American audiences. Will his
sensibility come off smooth like Velveeta
or pungent like so much Stilton?
Aasif Mandvi, who also grew up in England, thinks Gervais can appeal more widely
here. “Just as a fan, I’m excited he’s making
this leap to Hollywood comedic leading
man,” Mandvi says. “He’s just so funny.”
Forecasting the next turn in Gervais’
career, however, may be no easier than
deciphering his contradictions. He’s
jolly and generous—no, he’s raw and
uncompromising. He doles out pop
culture barbs but lounges at home
(mostly in his pajamas, he says) binging
on reality TV. He pronounces judgment
on “broad comedy”—then trades on his
hard-earned renown to do a mainstream
Hollywood movie.
But watch Gervais labor for a day and
it’s evident he means it when he says the
satisfaction of the work itself trumps all
else. Like other wayward entertainers,
he is driven in part by the way his chosen
medium once riveted him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says, kicking
back after the final shoot of the day has
wrapped. “I’ve always wanted to get this
one moment back: I wish I’d never seen
The Godfather before, because I remember
how good it felt the first time I watched it.
I’d say the same about The Sopranos. I want
that experience again.”
It’s clear this motivates him not only as
a fan. He’s got fame and fortune to spare,
and has rubbed creative elbows with some
of his artistic demigods. But although he
has conjured some pretty serious comedy,
Ricky Gervais would probably like nothing
more than to move audiences with that
same kind of magic.
For more on Ricky Gervais,
including his love of This Is Spinal
Tap, visit arrivemagazine.com
