MITCH GAYLORD : Gymnastics Medalist Is Trying to Spin Off a Hollywood Career From Olympic Success : By RICHARD HOFFER, Times Staff Writer

It’s not always worked out and, in fact, most often hasn’t. Bruce Jenner didn’t exactly recast his Olympic gold into the shape of an Oscar and Johnny Weissmuller never got voted a lifetime achievement award, king of the jungle-film or not. Remember all those O.J. Simpson flicks (“Towering Inferno” et al) and why they were really called disaster movies?

Face it, if we learned nothing else from the career of Mark Spitz, it’s that athletes should probably keep with what they do best, which is take the odd shaving commercial and just stay as athletic as all get out (although Carlos Palomino does do a nice beer commercial.)

But no, they want to be cinematic as well. Isn’t that always the way? Lately, for reasons which would seem obvious only if you saw them in their tights, this seems particularly true of gymnasts. These blond hunks have been tumbling off the mat and onto the big screen with a horrifying regularity. Olympian Kurt Thomas showed an unfortunate flair in a vehicle called “Gymkata.” A major failure, as the combination of martial arts and gymnastics was considered a natural, can’t miss. Olympian Bart Conner appeared, in few theaters and to few raves, in a movie named “Rad.” Nobody really knows what that was about.

Should we say, taken together, it’s not been enough to make Pauline Kael turn cartwheels?

So now comes Mitch Gaylord, one of our certified Olympic heroes and a pocket Tom Cruise to boot (a cover boy even before his spectacular Gaylord Two on the high bar clinched a team gold medal), to a theater near you. Question: Would this be “Gymkata II?” Answer: No. Meaning: We can continue.

The movie, which will be unfurled in a blaze of red-white-and-blue in time for the July 4 weekend, is called “American Anthem” and it’s highly possible it could be, well, successful. Gaylord assures that this outing, good or no (who can say), is at least a “movie movie.” Which is to say, it has a story. “It’s a dramatic movie with a serious role,” he says. “And not exploitative.” Some cheesecake maybe, some gymnastics for sure, but no karate, in other words.

Gaylord, his hair now longer than we remembered it from his days at UCLA’s Pauley Pavilion, describes it as a kind of “Footloose,” in the sense that “American Anthem” will be about gymnastics as “Footloose” was about dancing. In an incidental way. “You won’t be in the gym for two hours,” he promises. However, it should be every bit as uplifting as that movie.

The story so far: “You have a talented athlete, lost all hope, his father’s not there for him. Turns down a football scholarship and is working in a motorcycle garage. Meets this girl and, because he used to be a pretty hot gymnast. . . . “

You got it. Gaylord, or rather Steve Tevere, rides into the blazing Arizona horizon on his pommel horse, with girl, with hope, you name it. It’s as American as, well, an Olympic gold medal.

The film, which was budgeted at $10.5 million, is backed by more than Gaylord’s charisma. It’s a project of director Albert Magnoli, who transformed the career of Prince into the box-office killer “Purple Rain” two years ago. That movie, which also starred an unproven actor, brought in $75 million. Magnoli, it turns out, is attracted to winners, whether it’s a rock singer or a gymnast. And, he feels, success in other fields, despite all precedent, can be translated into the acting profession.

However, it is Gaylord’s charisma, more than his considerable gymnastics, which will have to carry the movie. Magnoli recognizes that. In an earlier interview, Magnoli likened Gaylord to Prince. “They’re both perfectionists, professional, dedicated, keenly aware of their surroundings. They possess tremendous curiousity.”

Magnoli, who had script in hand two years before the Olympics, knew he had his man after the 1984 Games. “When I reviewed the Olympic tapes, I found Mitch to be more individual-minded. Also, he was taller, more mature, physically dark. He stood out.”

You bet he stood out. Although he didn’t win an individual gold medal, he competed with monumental and, it should be added, needless heroism. If you can recall, the Olympic team finals closed out with Gaylord on the high bar. Now, a conservative routine assures the United States of their improbable gold. About all he has to do is not fall off and his team wins.

On the other hand, who paid to see Mitch Gaylord skin the cat? So Gaylord, against logic, ripped off his scarifying invention, the Gaylord Two, a fanciful and majestic loop-de-loop high above the bar in which he sometimes recatches and sometimes, just as spectacularly, doesn’t.

Of course, with a world watching, he did. You could call it a big moment.

But time passes, doesn’t it? And now Gaylord, who only lived for the moment anyway, finds himself with an altogether different kind of challenge. Although it’s the same in the sense that a lot of people will be watching when he attempts this new trick. As with the Gaylord Two, he will either amaze or fall on his face in a very public way.

He’ll take the chance, though, because he knew being an Olympic hero was not a career. “Celebrity with no purpose,” he says, “not me. I look at people, at celebrities, and two-three years later, they are really working hard to keep their name in the limelight. I want more for myself. Celebrity was fun and I had a good time. But I’m doing this for more reason than to stay famous. I have the goal of acting, a purpose.”

Gaylord, after the spectacle of the 1984 Games, certainly had all the celebrity he wanted. Walk-throughs on TV shows. A sporadic tour of the Olympic teams that took them to nearly 30 cities. It seemed like it would never cool down. Four months ago, the team did an exhibition in Minneapolis that drew nearly 17,000. And as appreciated as all the men were for their patriotic effort, it was always Gaylord who drew the squealing girls. This, nearly two years after the Olympics.

And then there were the malls. Somebody flew you to a shopping mall, set up a pommel horse. A few tricks, some autographs and up to $6,000 for your celebrity and good looks. Do it about 25-30 times, as Gaylord did, and you have an annuity.

But Gaylord saw even that cooling off. Hey, is Mary Lou Retton on Wheaties boxes any more? Nothing is forever is the moral of that story.

So it was that Gaylord, who knew as soon as the wreath was settled upon his head that he was out of gymnastics, welcomed the idea of an acting career. He knew he was out of sports. “I knew I was done. I reached all the goals, even surpassed them. I didn’t expect either myself or the team to do as well as it did. To hang on another four years, well, it was time to move on.”

But to acting, so dangerous a profession? He knew that success wasn’t automatic, that failure was more likely.

“That crossed my mind,” he says. But there was Magnoli and there was the script. If it were to be a failure, it would be a noble one.

Gaylord took acting lessons for three weeks before his first screen test and then, in the next three months until shooting began, took more. All the while Magnoli was studying gymnastics.

The gymnastics were, of course, easier for Gaylord although he soon found he was nearly as comfortable emoting as floating.

“Everyone has emotions, you just learn to use then and be comfortable with them,” he says.

Gaylord promises that the gymnastics will be Olympic caliber. “We did some high-quality gymnastics,” he says. “I made sure of that. I’d let the gymnastics community down if I didn’t.”

Of course, high quality or not, these tricks were easier to get right. “There is not the pressure of hitting one routine,” he says. “You can do 10 takes, until you get it right. But they still hold up (on film). This is the real stuff. The whole point of having good gymnasts. It will be really, really nice looking.”

But gymnastics is not the point of the movie nor the point in Gaylord’s life. These days he turns to the entertainment pages before the sports pages. And he is more likely to be discussing the recent efforts of Tom Cruise as former teammate Tim Daggett, who is still competing. It’s a new job, a new life.

However Gaylord does in an acting career, his daring should be just as appreciated here as in the Gaylord Two. It’s a kind of courage in itself isn’t it, trying to turn this fantasy process on its ear? Or maybe it will all work better than it ever has. Seems like it should. Why do we need our actors to impersonate our heroes, anyway, when the real ones are available?