Why Hollywood Blacklisted Richard Gere

Richard Gere just revisited his 20-year Oscars timeout with the kind of chill that makes the whole saga feel even wilder. In a new chat with Variety, the 76-year-old calmly walks through how he got himself sidelined from the Academy for two decades, why he never took it personally, and why he kept speaking out anyway.

The 100 seconds that changed his Oscars life

The short version: in 1993, Gere went onstage to present Best Art Direction and decided not to stick to the teleprompter. Instead of reading nominees, he spoke about Tibet and China’s human rights record, directly addressing then-leader Deng Xiaoping. He even floated the idea that Deng might be watching with his kids and grandkids, and urged viewers to send compassion and clarity so the Chinese military would leave Tibet. The room clapped. The people running the show did not.

Producer Gil Cates blasted the detour as arrogant and said he would not invite Gere back to future ceremonies. The Academy quietly followed that lead. Result: no Oscars invites for roughly 20 years.

How he sees it now

What’s striking is how little resentment he carries. Gere has been close with the Dalai Lama for about 45 years, and he frames the whole ordeal through that lens: push back against anger and exclusion, be clear about human rights abuses, and try not to make enemies out of people. He says everyone is redeemable, or none of us are. So he never treated the ban like a personal grudge match.

"I didn’t take it particularly personally."

Why the ban stuck — and why it mattered outside the Oscars

Gere was not new to this cause. He co-founded Tibet House in 1987 and had already been outspoken about Tibet long before that 1993 moment. But as Hollywood’s reliance on Chinese money grew, his activism turned into a business problem. By his own account, projects fell apart because financiers did not want to offend China. That wasn’t limited to big studio films. He describes a near-start on a small movie with a Chinese director that vanished after a hushed warning: if they worked together, the filmmaker and his family might never be allowed to leave China again, and his career would be over. The message was delivered on a secure call. Not subtle.

Gere has also said there are simply movies he cannot be in because China will say: not with him. It’s a blunt explanation for why one of the biggest stars of the 80s and 90s drifted away from studio leads as the 2000s wore on. And to be clear, he doesn’t blame age or disinterest on his side; he blames geopolitics and economics. That is an unpretty, very real industry detail that tends to live behind the curtain.

What he did instead

He leaned into smaller, character-driven work and steered clear of franchise duty. His own joke about it: he’s not lining up to play your wizened Jedi. He went back to the Oscars in 2013 once the cold shoulder thawed, and now he is executive producing a 2025 documentary about the Dalai Lama called 'Wisdom of Happiness.' None of this suggests a man pining for red carpets. He sounds happy to trade tuxedos for control.

The whole thing, in one glance

• 1987: Co-founds Tibet House; activism is already part of his life.
• 1993: Goes off-script while presenting at the Oscars to condemn China’s actions in Tibet and address Deng Xiaoping directly; producer Gil Cates calls it arrogant and says he would not invite him back; the Academy effectively freezes him out.
• 1993–2013: Two-decade Oscars exile.
• 2013: Returns to the ceremony.
• 2017: Says projects have collapsed because Chinese backers won’t finance films with him; recounts a secret call where a Chinese director warns that collaborating could trap his family in the country and end his career.
• 2025: Executive produces 'Wisdom of Happiness,' a documentary on the Dalai Lama.

Final thought

Gere’s stance hasn’t budged: China’s human rights record in Tibet is unacceptable. The industry’s stance did: as China’s box office and cash loomed larger, he became a risk. He doesn’t seem bitter about any of it, which almost makes the story feel more surreal. He spoke his mind, paid a price, kept working on his own terms, and now he is back at the Oscars and making a Dalai Lama doc. Not the usual arc for a leading man of his era, but very much his.