Daytimers Magazine, July 1982 (enlarged text below)
(My sincere thanks to Cynthia for the scans!)
(My sincere thanks to Cynthia for the scans!)
Paul Rossilli: From Shampoo to Soap
As the sexy hairdresser on an Agree shampoo commercial several years ago, Paul Rossilli did more than explain how to “degrease the greasies.” In a low, intoxicatingly sensual voice, he massaged not only a model’s soapy tresses, but caressed the listener’s ear as well.
Paul seduced countless consumers to buy Agree. In return the product manufacturers presented him with a fat check and allowed him use of a chic Beverly Hills Hotel bungalow, a chauffeured limousine and a generous expense account. Not too shabby for an actor who had worked for years on stage and screen in relative anonymity.
But almost immediately after the last take, Paul flew to Pennsylvania for the Williamstown Theater Festival where he performed in George Bernard Shaw’s Misalliance surrounded on stage by an esteemed acting troupe. When the final curtain fell, no TV director yelled “Cut!” no electrician commanded, “Save the lights,” and no Rolls Royce or luxury hotel awaited Paul. He walked to a college fraternity which served as the cast’s modest quarters.
That a 30-second spot on national TV could reap more money and recognition for him than a Shaw masterpiece, slightly amuses, but doesn’t bother, Paul. After all, Agree made his face, if not his name, familiar. “You have to keep a perspective,” he says softly during a recent interview. “You realize some work you do is for yourself and the people you respect. The rest is just business. I had never done a commercial before and so talked to my agent before consenting. It turned out to be one of the most successful in the last ten years. I reached a high believability level. I still meet people who actually think I am a hairstylist. And the female response was extraordinary.”
It’s not hard to see why. Today as the cultivated cad, “David Gray” on General Hospital—where he messes with people’s minds instead of their hair—Paul is the show’s nascent man you love to hate.
Not only does he possess a six-foot-five-and-a-half-inch lean, solid body and an impeccably smooth complexion, the 33-year-old actor radiates charm so innate he couldn’t turn it off if he tried. Most engaging, however, is his voice, soothing and refined.
Paul seems unaware of the effect his presence has on people. Whether on a radio talk show or in the public meeting viewers, he is giving with fans, courteous with the press. Yet in conversation, except for the occasional wide, toothy smile or the sudden loud chuckle that shatters his edge of reserve, he is quiet. When steered toward a subject too personal, he backs off, then says gently apologetic, “I don’t mind talking about ideas. I don’t like talking about myself so much. If somebody is asking me questions, I’d like to know who that person is. Who are you? What is your life like? Tell me about you. Then I feel it is a fair exchange.”
If he appears cautious, he has a terror of falsity. Every step in his career has been taken with integrity following strict standards from the start.
His upbringing in New Jersey was theatrical. As the youngest of 15 children, Paul experienced as much comedy and drama growing up as he ever did on stage. Except for a sister who worked as a world renown model, he’s the only one in the Rossilli clan to enter show biz. He briefly entertained thoughts of becoming an archeologist, but when high school graduation arrived, immediately embarked upon several years of exacting training with acting coaches Phillip Burton and Sanford Meisner in New York.
His first play, War and Peace, quickly initiated him to the hardships of theater putting him through 37 costume changes in two hours. Boldly determined, he avoided the struggling actor syndrome and managed to support himself without taking non-acting jobs. His persistence paid off. His conversation is peppered with references to plays he’s appeared in such as Hamlet, Cyrano and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Except for a few films, most notably, Midnight Cowboy and Serial, he’s remained on stage with major roles in every principal New York theater.
Working his way up was not without obstacles, however. His height often proved too much of a good thing. On stage he dwarfed the leading man. “I’ve had major stars ask me to leave the production. I was standing out, getting attention. I received letters from the director saying ‘I would very much like you to do this play—I really respect you—but there’s no way you fit in.’ I think that’s very insecure. I think you forget I’m 6-foot-5 after you’re with me two minutes.”
Some important people did forget because when Paul joined a prestigious talent agency, those-in-the-know felt he had blazing-hot potential. Highly selective and wanting only the best for their new client, they nixed several television offers. Paul himself struggled with which route to take artistically. He recalls the attention he received after a performance in California and feeling frightened. “People started telling me, ‘Stay here kid. You’re going to be in the film industry and we’re going to take pictures of you.’ I was insulted because I thought ‘I’m a stage actor and I’ve worked like hell and all they care about is taking my picture because I photograph well.’
“So my own insecurity kept me from seriously pursuing film and TV much earlier. I didn’t understand; I wanted quality. I wanted to change the world. I really did. As an actor I wanted to get out and bare my soul and say, ‘Hey look, can’t we understand each other?’ This may sound idealistic and silly, but if you scratch the surface—and you don’t have to scratch too far—that’s what I care about. I do care about communicating in a very profound way.”
While remaining idealistic, Paul looks back on his early years and confesses naiivete. He left the New York agency and moved out to Los Angeles a year ago in pursuit of film and television roles. As he explains, “I’ve been too safe in the past. I’ve turned down too much because I didn’t think it was right for me. I’ve decided now my work has to stand on it’s own. It seems best to come out and face the business, 99 percent of which is television. You’re really limiting yourself if you don’t get involved in it.”
Still, when he won the part of “David” on General Hospital, Paul hesitated. A week of talking with agents and managers passed before he made his decision. “Since I’ve been in California, I’ve been on a crash course of understanding things like General Hospital,” he says in a subdued, unassuming tone. We looked at what I was being offered: he was an interesting character, it’s the number one show and is receiving a lot of attention. I admit I was nervous. I’ve worked really hard to be a good actor and thought, ‘God, how am I going to be under these circumstances? How can you expect to do quality acting when you’re thrown 30 pages the night before and say the words the first time the next morning?’
“But I feel I have to take the chance. I’ve grown a lot. General Hospital is business and there’s no pretense. I can’t be this little voice saying ‘Pay attention to me and my neurosis.’ I’m just a little cog in the wheel. I’m totally committed to making my role on the show work. It’s better than sitting in my apartment and moaning, ‘I’m a good actor but there’s nothing worthwhile for me to do.’ I think an actor should act.”
Whereas another newcomer to the soap might have succumbed to the pressures of working on the number one show and the overnight fame, Paul has faced but minor adjustments. Nothing in his life has changed—except his phone number. “I can’t pretend I’ve been mobbed, because I haven’t. Working isn’t disruptive. Everyone is really nice.”
He continues, a smile teasing on his lips, “I was warned, ‘You’re getting rid of “Laura?” Her fans will hit you over the head in the supermarket!’ But I find when I’m recognized, people just kind of grin. That makes me feel good.”
He remains able to go quietly about his business visiting with friends, mostly writers and painters—predominantly female. Paul seems genuinely perplexed as to why he appeals to women. “I just really like women. I like independent ones in the sense they explore life on their own and are really out there seeing what’s going on. These are very exciting times for women.”
In spite of his ease with the opposite sex, he lives alone in West Hollywood. He isn’t, nor has he been, married. When asked why not, he responds matter-of-factly. “I’m an actor. I come from a family where my brothers are very hard working and take care of their wives and children. They have the homes, the two cars—the whole thing. I feel if I were married and had a wife and child my responsibility would be to care for and protect these people. As an actor that would have to mean that I’d do anything for money. I’m willing to risk the pain of rejection and going hungry for myself, but I’m not willing to risk that for someone I love.”
For now, the perennial performer prefers a solo act. Constantly seeking ways of perfecting his art, he’s developed a keen sense of observation. He watches people whether on the subway, in a grocery store or with his fellow actors on the set. “I think it’s so funny, we think we hide who we are. But if you look at people carefully and really listen to what they’re saying, they’re so transparent. Our hearts are on our sleeves and so are our souls. We don’t really hide anything.
“Being alive is an extraordinary adventure, and acting is the best way I know to explore the human adventure. If I get to investigate somebody’s life, start pushing his buttons, it gives me compassion for my fellow man. And whatever does that, I’m all for.”
Paul seduced countless consumers to buy Agree. In return the product manufacturers presented him with a fat check and allowed him use of a chic Beverly Hills Hotel bungalow, a chauffeured limousine and a generous expense account. Not too shabby for an actor who had worked for years on stage and screen in relative anonymity.
But almost immediately after the last take, Paul flew to Pennsylvania for the Williamstown Theater Festival where he performed in George Bernard Shaw’s Misalliance surrounded on stage by an esteemed acting troupe. When the final curtain fell, no TV director yelled “Cut!” no electrician commanded, “Save the lights,” and no Rolls Royce or luxury hotel awaited Paul. He walked to a college fraternity which served as the cast’s modest quarters.
That a 30-second spot on national TV could reap more money and recognition for him than a Shaw masterpiece, slightly amuses, but doesn’t bother, Paul. After all, Agree made his face, if not his name, familiar. “You have to keep a perspective,” he says softly during a recent interview. “You realize some work you do is for yourself and the people you respect. The rest is just business. I had never done a commercial before and so talked to my agent before consenting. It turned out to be one of the most successful in the last ten years. I reached a high believability level. I still meet people who actually think I am a hairstylist. And the female response was extraordinary.”
It’s not hard to see why. Today as the cultivated cad, “David Gray” on General Hospital—where he messes with people’s minds instead of their hair—Paul is the show’s nascent man you love to hate.
Not only does he possess a six-foot-five-and-a-half-inch lean, solid body and an impeccably smooth complexion, the 33-year-old actor radiates charm so innate he couldn’t turn it off if he tried. Most engaging, however, is his voice, soothing and refined.
Paul seems unaware of the effect his presence has on people. Whether on a radio talk show or in the public meeting viewers, he is giving with fans, courteous with the press. Yet in conversation, except for the occasional wide, toothy smile or the sudden loud chuckle that shatters his edge of reserve, he is quiet. When steered toward a subject too personal, he backs off, then says gently apologetic, “I don’t mind talking about ideas. I don’t like talking about myself so much. If somebody is asking me questions, I’d like to know who that person is. Who are you? What is your life like? Tell me about you. Then I feel it is a fair exchange.”
If he appears cautious, he has a terror of falsity. Every step in his career has been taken with integrity following strict standards from the start.
His upbringing in New Jersey was theatrical. As the youngest of 15 children, Paul experienced as much comedy and drama growing up as he ever did on stage. Except for a sister who worked as a world renown model, he’s the only one in the Rossilli clan to enter show biz. He briefly entertained thoughts of becoming an archeologist, but when high school graduation arrived, immediately embarked upon several years of exacting training with acting coaches Phillip Burton and Sanford Meisner in New York.
His first play, War and Peace, quickly initiated him to the hardships of theater putting him through 37 costume changes in two hours. Boldly determined, he avoided the struggling actor syndrome and managed to support himself without taking non-acting jobs. His persistence paid off. His conversation is peppered with references to plays he’s appeared in such as Hamlet, Cyrano and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Except for a few films, most notably, Midnight Cowboy and Serial, he’s remained on stage with major roles in every principal New York theater.
Working his way up was not without obstacles, however. His height often proved too much of a good thing. On stage he dwarfed the leading man. “I’ve had major stars ask me to leave the production. I was standing out, getting attention. I received letters from the director saying ‘I would very much like you to do this play—I really respect you—but there’s no way you fit in.’ I think that’s very insecure. I think you forget I’m 6-foot-5 after you’re with me two minutes.”
Some important people did forget because when Paul joined a prestigious talent agency, those-in-the-know felt he had blazing-hot potential. Highly selective and wanting only the best for their new client, they nixed several television offers. Paul himself struggled with which route to take artistically. He recalls the attention he received after a performance in California and feeling frightened. “People started telling me, ‘Stay here kid. You’re going to be in the film industry and we’re going to take pictures of you.’ I was insulted because I thought ‘I’m a stage actor and I’ve worked like hell and all they care about is taking my picture because I photograph well.’
“So my own insecurity kept me from seriously pursuing film and TV much earlier. I didn’t understand; I wanted quality. I wanted to change the world. I really did. As an actor I wanted to get out and bare my soul and say, ‘Hey look, can’t we understand each other?’ This may sound idealistic and silly, but if you scratch the surface—and you don’t have to scratch too far—that’s what I care about. I do care about communicating in a very profound way.”
While remaining idealistic, Paul looks back on his early years and confesses naiivete. He left the New York agency and moved out to Los Angeles a year ago in pursuit of film and television roles. As he explains, “I’ve been too safe in the past. I’ve turned down too much because I didn’t think it was right for me. I’ve decided now my work has to stand on it’s own. It seems best to come out and face the business, 99 percent of which is television. You’re really limiting yourself if you don’t get involved in it.”
Still, when he won the part of “David” on General Hospital, Paul hesitated. A week of talking with agents and managers passed before he made his decision. “Since I’ve been in California, I’ve been on a crash course of understanding things like General Hospital,” he says in a subdued, unassuming tone. We looked at what I was being offered: he was an interesting character, it’s the number one show and is receiving a lot of attention. I admit I was nervous. I’ve worked really hard to be a good actor and thought, ‘God, how am I going to be under these circumstances? How can you expect to do quality acting when you’re thrown 30 pages the night before and say the words the first time the next morning?’
“But I feel I have to take the chance. I’ve grown a lot. General Hospital is business and there’s no pretense. I can’t be this little voice saying ‘Pay attention to me and my neurosis.’ I’m just a little cog in the wheel. I’m totally committed to making my role on the show work. It’s better than sitting in my apartment and moaning, ‘I’m a good actor but there’s nothing worthwhile for me to do.’ I think an actor should act.”
Whereas another newcomer to the soap might have succumbed to the pressures of working on the number one show and the overnight fame, Paul has faced but minor adjustments. Nothing in his life has changed—except his phone number. “I can’t pretend I’ve been mobbed, because I haven’t. Working isn’t disruptive. Everyone is really nice.”
He continues, a smile teasing on his lips, “I was warned, ‘You’re getting rid of “Laura?” Her fans will hit you over the head in the supermarket!’ But I find when I’m recognized, people just kind of grin. That makes me feel good.”
He remains able to go quietly about his business visiting with friends, mostly writers and painters—predominantly female. Paul seems genuinely perplexed as to why he appeals to women. “I just really like women. I like independent ones in the sense they explore life on their own and are really out there seeing what’s going on. These are very exciting times for women.”
In spite of his ease with the opposite sex, he lives alone in West Hollywood. He isn’t, nor has he been, married. When asked why not, he responds matter-of-factly. “I’m an actor. I come from a family where my brothers are very hard working and take care of their wives and children. They have the homes, the two cars—the whole thing. I feel if I were married and had a wife and child my responsibility would be to care for and protect these people. As an actor that would have to mean that I’d do anything for money. I’m willing to risk the pain of rejection and going hungry for myself, but I’m not willing to risk that for someone I love.”
For now, the perennial performer prefers a solo act. Constantly seeking ways of perfecting his art, he’s developed a keen sense of observation. He watches people whether on the subway, in a grocery store or with his fellow actors on the set. “I think it’s so funny, we think we hide who we are. But if you look at people carefully and really listen to what they’re saying, they’re so transparent. Our hearts are on our sleeves and so are our souls. We don’t really hide anything.
“Being alive is an extraordinary adventure, and acting is the best way I know to explore the human adventure. If I get to investigate somebody’s life, start pushing his buttons, it gives me compassion for my fellow man. And whatever does that, I’m all for.”