Richard's redemption: what is it like to spend 68 years of your life in the closet? Richard Chamberlain digs deeper than ever to tell us why it happened and how he finally got out.

When Richard Chamberlain walked into the living room of his Oahu home and shook my hand, 36 years of dodging an Advocate interview ended. While his sexuality has been an open secret for most of his long career, so has almost any star's who has taken the step to come all the way out ill the pages of this magazine. There have been very few surprises. Speculation about Ellen, Rosie, Chastity, George, Nathan, or Richard may have made fun dinner conversation, but weren't we just killing time until we could finally hear the inside story from the only people who could tell it?

The smile on Richard's older (he's now 69), wiser face stayed frozen like a glass mask for the first half hour of our meeting. The theatrical edge to his voice was jarring add detached. As I sat on his couch gazing at the Honolulu skyline, I thought, So this is how he does it. This is how he's kept his real life private for 68 years! But just when I feared The Advocate was about to join a long list of publications with unsatisfying Richard Chamberlain interviews, the man behind Dr. Kildare, The Thorn Birds, Shogun, and many acclaimed theater roles snapped out of it. It was as if Richard Chamberlain heard himself regressing and stopped cold. That was the pod Richard. He didn't have to do that anymore.

Although he had broken his own ice earlier this year with a memoir, Skattered Love, underneath, Richard was still Richard: proper and cautious. The difference was, he was now breathing that rarified air that exists in a coming-out bubble. He was going through a transition. He was starting his life over in so many ways. And he bad so much more to say.

"It's like a miracle," Richard explained with guileless enthusiasm. "My life has changed so much in nine months. I forget: This is The Advocate"--something he knows he wants to do.

Seeing that Richard was now comfortable, Martin Rabbett, Richard's partner of 26 years--who worked for months to guide me into this interview and into their home--left the room.

And with that, Richard the lionhearted gave us everything he's kept to himself and a small circle of friends.

We never got to talk to Rock Hudson, and I feel that in many ways parts of your life are very similar to his. You were a romantic lead in the same era, a matinee idol. You were handsome and played the heartthrob. And you were gay and closeted. So my question is, How did you do it? How did you live your life?

I did it because I had to. To begin with, as far as I knew, being gay was the worst thing you could possibly be. I grew up in the '30s and '40s and '50s--I was born in 1934. There wasn't anything worse. There wasn't anything less acceptable. So when I kind of became aware of this--which was pretty early--I thought it was the deepest, darken secret you could possibly have, and I made a pact with myself never, ever to tell anyone.

Did you think you were the only one in the world?

No! I knew. There was a family that my parents were very friendly with. Their son was very, very effeminate, and there was nothing but ridicule behind his back in my family. Nothing but ridicule.

So that's what you saw.

Well, the message was everywhere! Kids growing up are very tentative about their sexual identity unless they're the obvious football players. In America it's extremely important for boys to be very, very "boy." Very masculine. Especially in preadolescence and adolescence.

And it isn't that way everywhere. When I first went to live in England as an actor, I couldn't tell who was straight or gay--they don't bother with this macho stuff, the men.

This is when you were an adult.

Yes. I was amazed at how easygoing the men were, how easy they were to talk to, how unpretentiously male they were. They were comfortable. They didn't have to put on a show. For some reason, American men--especially when I was growing up--young men, boys, had to put on this intense show of male plumage.

Anyway, my point is that I grew up in a culture where being obviously male for young men was essential. And so it became second nature to me to try to do that as best I could. I had girlfriends and played the game. And it was fine. I liked these girls. We necked in backs of cars and stuff. It just never got past that.

You weren't interested?

Well, no, I wanted to be an actor worse than anything. I wanted to live in that fantasy world. I didn't like real life at all. I hated school. I certainly didn't want to go into business with my rather and brother, though I was invited. That was just [chuckles] ... that was like another planet. I wanted the world of fantasy, I wanted the world of glamour, I wanted the world of success, and I loved the idea of acting. I loved the idea of being different people, partly because I disapproved so heartily of myself. And so I did that, and I had a certain amount of talent and a certain amount of looks. I certainly worked very, very, very hard at it. And I made it.

But you were unhappy.

Yes. And the unhappiness took an interesting form in my early 20s. I had very limited energy--I would wear out very quickly. [Chuckles] I was already pretending to be somebody else, so this pretended self then had to act. Very interesting, and extremely enervating. [Chuckles] Because in improvisation, the whole point of improvisation is getting your real feelings involved. No way did I want to know my real feelings. So I delved into the quote-real-unquote feelings of my made-up self.

What was so bad about the real Richard?

It's a good question. It's just the sense, an illogical and apparently unfounded sense that I'm not a lovable person. And it was much more than being gay. It was a sense that I got from my father that I would never, ever possibly measure up as a man to him.

Did your father abuse you verbally for being gay?

[Pause] Well ... we never discussed it.

You're kidding!

Look, he didn't need any reason to be suppressive. That was just his nature. He didn't want any competition from any [men], especially from his male siblings or his male children.

You say in your book that you did eventually get help.

In my early 20s--it was especially acute before Kildare--I was so unhappy, and I didn't know why. I didn't say to myself, Well, you're playing a game--the game was second nature. So my singing teacher suggested that I go to a shrink she knew, Linda Harris. And it was very early in the game with Linda that she began to point out how l didn't know I was angry. I didn't know when I was sad; I didn't know when I was put out; I didn't know anything.

And later you were a TV heartthrob carrying all this unhappiness. What did you do when you got mad?

I would withdraw. My eyes would go dead and I would disappear. And so slowly, working with her, I began to realize I was totally out of touch with my real self. This isn't just a matter of sexuality.

Let's talk about your father, Chuck Chamberlain. When you were young, a lot of the time he was a drunk and a bully. And yet later he became a famous leader in Alcoholics Anonymous and helped so many people.

Yeah, right, exactly. He helped a lot of people. People used to come up to me in the airport and say, "Your dad saved my life," and go on their way.

Did that upset you?

That didn't. No, I was really quite proud of him on a certain level. I didn't put that in the book, but I used to go to AA meetings, and I sort of bought it for a while. 'Cause he was this big deal.

I didn't get that feeling from you. On a television show you said, "My father did so much and helped so many people, but he didn't do much for me or the family." I thought that you were still angry at him.

Well, the fact that I have realized there's nothing to forgive him for doesn't mean he wasn't a jerk. It's just that I've realized I wouldn't change anything that's ever happened in my life. It's all led me here.

What about your mother?

I knew they knew.

"They"? Mom and Dad?

Yeah.

You knew they knew?

At least they were very afraid that I might be gay. [Laughs]

You knew you were gay at 11. So in 1945, how did you deal with this?

Well, it wasn't like it was blazed in literate letters--it was just a sense that there was something really different about me. And when you're a kid, being different is not really a good thing.

You lived a double life a long time.

Yeah. It's a curious double life: Lots of hating myself and hiding as a kid. Later, with the fame, part of me was very happy and very excited to be working--loved being famous, loved acting, loved the challenge of doing all kinds of parts in all kinds of mediums. And then there was the part of me that was extremely inhibited and frightened and self-disapproving.

Well, I wonder how you had any romantic relationships at all, being so self-hating and closeted and with your ambition driving you on.

[Pauses] Yes. I was lucky enough to find a couple of people who were tolerant of that side of my nature, including Martin, who for some reason has stuck it out with me for 26 years. And most of that time, I loved my job more than I loved him, as far as I knew. My job, my career. I wouldn't have been able to exist without my career.

Were your real feelings finding some release through your acting?

Yes. As a character, I could be angry. I knew why my character was angry. It was very difficult to do angry scenes. It was very difficult to really be strong and present a case for myself. I remember having to work incredibly hard to get stuff like that going. It got easier with time. But the badness of being gay had been hammered into the stone of my inner being in deep granite letters.

Having just gone through it, what did you think about the coming-out process?

This is the best question you'll ask all day, I think. It's the most astonishing and the biggest experience I can remember. In writing the book, in the early stages, I didn't know whether I was going to talk about being gay; I didn't know whether I was going to talk about Martin. And Martin didn't know if he wanted to be talked about. But during the course of writing the book ... I can't even recall the sequence of events, but it wasn't until I was writing a chapter about the '90s that I suddenly realized that this whole issue that I had tortured myself with all my life, till I was 68 years old, was completely bogus. It was absolutely without any basis whatsoever. This wasn't an intellectual realization. Well, it was that too, but it was a deep, deep, down-into-my-bones-and-heart realization. I suddenly realized that it's the nonissue of all time. And suddenly, it was as if the hand of some angel settled on my head and said, "Enough. Enough." [Pauses, eyes full] I'm gonna cry now ... "Enough. It's over. It's over."

Richard ... [Pauses, waits] No one has ever said anything like this to me before.

I know, I know. Sixty-eight years ... It was just so stupid.

Yes, it was a loss. What about your public coming-out process?

[Brightens] Going on Dateline was the happiest day of my life. I didn't have to worry about all that negative stuff anymore. There was also a part of my brain watching that said, Is this really happening? You're talking about this on television? This biggest secret of your life? It was amazing.

And all yon said was that you were gay. So you have to wonder, What the hell were you thinking?

What was I thinking?

So how do you see yourself after this storm of attention?

I have this theory--and Martin doesn't get this, and I don't think anybody's gotten it--that there's something that precedes gayness in a lot of people. This is no hard and fast rule, but there's something that precedes this attraction to one's own sex. And it is a quality of androgyny. I was watching TV the other night, and it was a story about a young male-female couple falling in love. The actors were very attractive. The story was very attractive. You wanted them to fall in love. And they had their first kiss. I thought, Yes, I like them both, and I saw the beauty of what was happening between this boy and this girl. It was so clear, I was so for them. And I realized watching that, that I was watching a polarized male and a polarized female, and the beauty of the coming together into a larger being that ideally happens in a straight relationship. Together they make, in a sense, a whole being.

I saw the beauty of that, and at the same moment I realized, That's not me. What I want, what I prefer is being androgynous. What I prefer is being of a more balanced nature, with both male and female. I like being strong; I like being sensitive. I like the combo. That's what I want to be. And it struck me that it's very natural for an androgynous being--natural, not deviant at all--to be attracted to a being of the same sex. It's not necessary; it can happen that you're attracted to the opposite sex, of course, but probably a more androgynous version of the opposite sex.

I see that, and ...

And you get it? You get what I'm talking about?

[Laughs] Oh, yes.

Well, at last!

Well, of course. Many do.

It's how I've always felt inside.

Now that you're on this, I can see you as androgynous.

The area of androgyny has something to do with my spiritual interest too. A lot of "men" men aren't interested, I think it takes a certain feminine energy to do it because spirit is so compassionate. Polarized men want to manipulate the world and do stuff out there. When it gets to invading the whole world--then it's gone a little far! But with androgyny you've got the sensitivity of the female and the go-get-it-ness of the male, which is a wonderful combo.

Advocate editors often note how the discussion is going to be about gender in the future: How dare some boy act like a girl?

That's so fantastic! Yeah, well, a friend of mine said, "Show me a man who beats up a queer, and I'll show you a man who wants to kiss a boy."

We know actors today don't feel it's safe to be out. But how will we know if everyone lies?

I'm a bad one to ask.

[Laughs] OK, so how did you do it9 What was your spin? Give us an example of a big interview you did when you were really hot?

Well, in the earlier days it was always, "Why aren't you married? Is there somebody serious? Don't you want kids?" and all that stuff. The general direction of the spin was "Later--I'm busy. I have some great girlfriends and it's fun, but I'm not ready to settle down," that kind of stuff.

You always had to think up stuff.

When I was famous as Dr. Kildare and all those things, the game was second nature. I always had a fear in the back of my mind of being exposed, and the press was really after me in very circuitous ways. They wanted to catch me out very badly, the fan magazines.

You never took the marriage step.

No, no, no, no, no, I wouldn't.

Did studios pressure you?

No, never. Never discussed. Never talked about it. But I knew what the game was. I had a brain--I went to premieres with girlfriends. I played the game. The problem with playing a game--and the self-denial involved--is that it's self-destructive.

I'll say. Can you give me any examples of an interview?

[Chuckles] I had kind of a media romance with Tyrone Power's beautiful daughter Taryn Power, a long, long time ago--in the '70s, I think. We used to alert the press when we'd be at a restaurant. We were both kind of doing this just for the publicity's sake, and they would come take pictures of the romantic couple at the Dome and things like that. So People magazine wanted to do an interview with us together at my house in the Hollywood hills. And the interview was going fine until Taryn suddenly said, "Where's the bathroom?" That blew the whole thing sky-high! It was so funny. [Both laugh hysterically]

Did that appear in the interview?

Yeah, yeah.

"Where's the bathroom?"

Yeah, "Where's the bathroom?" And the lady who was writing the thing said this was obviously a publicity romance. She didn't say anything else, but that was really hilarious. I should've put that in the book.

You must have known other gay actors in the same situation?

[Slowly] Yes, I suspected that there were a couple of people in town who were in the same boat as I was, but I didn't know them particularly well.

So you didn't mix.

Well, no.

When gay activists were pushing to have Hawaii be the first state where gay marriage would be possible, was it difficult for you not to be able to be out and visible and offer help?

No, I wasn't ready. I would have been speaking from fear. I still thought I was bad on some level.

So what has your relationship been with, for lack of better words, the gay community?

I have mixed feelings about the gay community. At this point I would do anything to help people realize that being gay is a nonissue. Because I'm not attached to any organized religion, the idea of marriage isn't particularly important to me; civil anions are extremely important to me. On the other hand, I read a column by Andrew Sullivan the other day that was saying without it, we're still secondary.

Yeah, I agree.

Yes. I would much prefer that there was no gay society. Consequently, everybody is mixed in. That's what I see as the ideal. But to get them, you have to have a certain militancy.

Have you wanted to take "coming out" back and return to your old ways?

No, but I've had subtle recurrences of a kind of fear reaction.

Are your living relatives OK with everything, or do you care?

I have an older brother, and that's about all the close family I have. And we talked very recently, and it hardly came up.

You served two years in Korea. Talk about "gays in the military."

Oh, it would've been an immediate discharge then.

Did you get together with anybody?

Never, ever. Wouldn't have dared, even if it came up. Never.

So it wasn't an issue?

Turned off. In a cocoon. Wasn't an issue. I hated being in the Army, because I don't like stamping my socks with my serial number. I don't like making my bed so flint you can bounce a quarter on it. I don't like being ordered around. I don't like ordering people around. I came out a sergeant. It was all just another role for me. Mind you, there was no war at the time. I wouldn't have lasted two seconds on the from line.

So say again: Despite living in a prison of serf-hatred for 68 years, yon would not change a thing in your life?

Well, maybe three things. [Judy laughs]

You can't stop there.

There's a cat story. You know, the best cats are the ones that come to your house and decide they want to live with you. I had one like that. He was black, and I named him Sambo--I suppose we shouldn't say that, but it was a long time ago. He was the best cat I ever met. And then a friend of mine had a little kitten and couldn't, keep it anymore and asked me to keep the kitten. And I did, and the kitten eventually chased Sambo out of the house. I let this happen. Years later, Sambo came back. So sick, and I took him right to the vet, and there was nothing they could do for him. But he came back, and I should never have let him go. I should never have let that happen, and I will never forgive myself for it. He came back to die in my house.

I am afraid too many of us have an animal story from our pasts that goes like that. Really? Ill never forget.

How did you meet Martin?

We were working on a play in L.A. The play continued elsewhere, and that's when we got together, because he was also involved in a relationship.

Did you just know, or did it take a long time?

The soul part took a long time to know. All I know is that we tried to split again and again. We'd get so mad at each other. And have so many issues, obviously--I was the epitome of selfishness. And he wasn't that easy either. And, of course, he's 19 years younger than me. And yet older than me, in many ways.

I love seeing you together.

I asked myself just a couple of years ago, What's it like to live with me? Oh, I'm very interested in what it's like to live with you, because I want to know what will make me happy. I still sort of take it on faith that Martin likes being around me. There's another part that knows we have a deep soul relationship that is astounding. I didn't always know that. Now I do. And that's when love is possible. When you are free. When you don't insist that your lover be anything anymore--faithful, anything. It all goes out the window. All the expectations, all the demands. That's when you can love a person, I think, when your well-being detaches from all that Not that I'm there every day with Martin, mind you. I'm cleaning up my act a bit here. [Chuckles] But I'm there sometimes.

To learn how to contact Richard Chamberlain and about his environmental work in Hawaii, go to www.advocate.com/html/issuelinks/issuelinks.asp