John Gavin: The Statesman from “Psycho”

I try, very consciously, never to glamorize guns, but this is the only picture of our subject I could find that made me pay attention to what I was looking at.

John Gavin (1931-2018) was a very good looking guy, but of a type so ideal that he actually seems to fade in one’s consciousness even while you’re looking at him. In his time he was often associated with Rock Hudson, and he once played Cary Grant in the TV movie Sophia Loren: Her Own Story (1980). Gavin was of that type but blander. He’d even been cast to succeed George Lazenby as James Bond before the producers managed to persuade Sean Connery to return to the role. Being a word person, my own tendency at one time, I think, was to mix him up in my mind with someone like John Forsythe.

But so much for Gavin’s forgettability. We are here to praise Caesar, not to bury him. Gavin actually played Julius Caesar, in Spartacus (1960). And this goes to the point that you undoubtedly know him from many movies, whether you realize it or not. The thing you probably know him best from is Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960). He’s actually the love interest and technical “hero”, but who comes to mind when we think of that film? In my own head, it’s usually Tony Perkins, Janet Leigh, and Martin Balsam, in roughly that order. Hitchcock also used him several times in episodes of his prime time TV show. Another director who employed Gavin was Douglas Sirk, who gave him leading man roles in A Time to Love and a Time to Die (1958) and Imitation of Life (1959). I guess Rock Hudson wasn’t available! Some other well known pictures that have Gavin front and center, though somehow still invisible, were the Hitchcockesque Midnight Lace (1960), Peter Ustinov’s Romanoff and Juliet (1961), and Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967). After the near-miss with the Bond franchise, he enjoyed a consolation prize by starring in the European knockoff OSS 117 — Double Agent (1968). Some other scraps from the era include the ensemble picture The Madwoman of Chaillot (1969), in which he is quite far down in the credits, Rod Amateau’s Pussycat, Pussycat, I Love You (1970), and a Mexican film called Nefertiti y Aquenatos (1973) opposite Geraldine Chaplin.

By the ’70s, as with so many actors of his generation and older, it was down to guest starring on episodes of Love Boat and Fantasy Island. We binged the former during the pandemic and Gavin’s appearance in one episode is what induced me to investigate his background. I promise you I learned something fascinating, else this post likely wouldn’t exist. And what I learned is this: in 1981 President Ronald Reagan appointed John Gavin as the United States Ambassador to Mexico!

Holy Cow, right? We should mention that this wasn’t just completely out of the blue. Yes, Reagan was a movie actor and likely knew Gavin from that connection. But there’s also the small detail that Gavin’s real name was Juan Apablasa and his mother was a Mexican aristocrat. He also had degrees in economics and Latin American Affairs. And, like, Reagan, Gavin was a former President of the Screen Actor’s Guild, a pretty demanding executive position with plenty of politics. But still, it’s something of a bombshell: the guy from Psycho was the U.S. Ambassador to Mexico. That’s not a sleepy little post. That’s got to be one of the toughest diplomatic assignments. We share a very troublesome border with that country. And look, here he is with Nancy in the aftermath of an earthquake:

You actually have to work hard and capably in a job like that. And apparently Gavin did, and excelled, for he was in the post through 1986. (I don’t know if any espionage went on at his embassy, but someone should definitely do a movie where Ambassador Gavin became a super-spy like the ones he played in motion pictures).

Subsequently, Gavin went on to an impressive number of powerful global corporate positions (President of this, Chairman of that, blah blah blah, that’s for someone else’s blog). He’d been dabbling in business ventures throughout his career, so it was a natural transition and was obviously his true métier. For it must be acknowledged (as even he did), that as an actor he sure looked like he belonged in an office. (Sorry! Unlike John Gavin, I’m no diplomat).

How did all this come about? Facts that seem relevant are that his Godfather was songwriter Jimmy McHugh and Bryan Foy was a family friend. The latter got him into the pictures.

Thus, John Gavin: one of the very few Hollywood actors whose life got way more interesting AFTER he left the movies.