ne of the few simple facts of Keanu's childhood is his name, which means"cool breeze over the mountains" in Hawaiian. It's the sort of name you get when you have a Hawaiian-Chinese father—the Reeveses go way back in Oahu—and a British bohemian mother who in a burst of 60s abandon head off to pre-war Beirut to hang out, producing a baby in the process.
When Keanu was six, his mother married Off Broadway director Paul Aaron. Within six months they divorced, and Patric moved with her children to Toronto, to be closer to her ex-in-laws, who helped support the family. A gifted seamstress, she made stage costumes for entertainers; Emmylou Harris and Dolly Parton were among her clients.
His first big break came through a Leah Posluns connection to Hollywood movie director Steven Stern. Keanu auditioned for a bit part in a TV movie."There was something about him I liked as a person," recalls Stern, a fellow Torontonian."Funny, yet a serious side. I told him to take the script home and read it for the lead." When Stern told the Disney executive in charge of TV movies that he wanted to cast an unknown as his lead, the executive was incredulous.
Keanu seemed not just to distrust his growing fame but to mock it. Hildy Gottlieb Hill recalls him showing up at the ICM office in a kilt. He rode his Nortons fast, sometimes at night, occasionally with the headlight off, and had spills— one in Topanga Canyon that ruptured his spleen and left a long abdominal scar. In the few interviews he gave, he seemed scornful or bored; once, he entertained a roomful of journalists by spitting on the floor. It was a phase.
"One of the great things was learning about meditation. What is spoken of a lot is the notion of no self, no 'I.' What is ego, what is mind, nature of mind . . . and what is desire?"