Though he landed his first role the day after he graduated drama school, it would take a while before audiences could see past Mel Gibson's good looks. And so, like Clint Eastwood, the film actor has alternated between critic-pleasers (The Year of Living Dangerously, Hamlet) and crowd-pleasers (the Mad Max and Lethal Weapon trilogies).

The handsome, blue-eyed star of Braveheart is twitchy and fidgety, possibly because -- like the adrenalized action heroes he portrays -- he just can't sit still. Or, more likely, he's on day 30 of his latest attempt to quit smoking. ``It's hard,'' he acknowledges. ``Listen, you know what's easy? It's easier short term to give up sex than it is to give up cigarettes.'' Hmmmm. ``Short term. I'm saying like 3 days. For 3 days, all right?''

Instead of puffing, Gibson periodically consumes eyedroppersful of some weird brown Chinese herbal concoction that, he claims, is the secret source of his energy. He won't reveal the ingredients, joking that the foul-tasting liquid would soon be in short supply as every aspiring actor would be trying to get his hands on it.

Q: New York Times film critic Vincent Canby once wrote, ``I can't define star quality, but whatever it is, Mr. Gibson has it.'' How do you define star quality?

A: Did he say that? Vincent can be a nice guy. I think star quality is an ability to keep in touch with your audience. And that's about all I think you can do, so long as they identify with you, and you can do things that they identify with. It's a mutual thing, I think. You have nothing without them.

Q: Do you ever feel trapped by audience expectations?

A: Of course! Audience expectation is something you have to ultimately fight against and fool with a bit. It's a flirtatious exercise. Whether or not you're good at it, I don't know, but I try. I'm still here.

Q: Your co-stars say that one of the most valuable assets you bring to the set is your playful attitude.

A: Well, I'm certainly not too serious about it. I take it seriously, for sure, and I want to do a good job, but I like to relax and have fun at the same time so that I don't make it into a chore or a sort of soul-destroying exercise. I don't like to torture myself on the set like some people do. They like to drive the old bamboo splints under their fingernails to get into the scene, and I just haven't got time for that. I like to have fun and I feel that I can't really do a great job unless I'm relaxed and happy.

Q: You've piloted aircraft in several films. Do you yearn to fly a plane in real life?

A: I might get my license someday. Every kid wants to fly. That's one of the big charges, breaking those bonds that hold us down here and getting up there amongst the clouds and letting it all hang out. You know -- the risk, the danger, the madness. I took some flying lessons and it does give you a thrill, especially the first time that the guy hands the controls over to you. You seize up with fear, actually. It's exhilarating. You know you're alive.

Q: Have you ever landed a plane on your own?

A: Only in the movies.

Q: You grew up in New York and moved to Australia when you were 12. When you returned to the U.S. in your mid-20s, did you experience culture shock?

A: Not really. I think Australia and America keep up with one another, or they did through those years that I was away. So I was able to keep up in the newspapers. It was no big deal, no big changes. They're very similar countries.

Q: What were you like at 12?

A: I was a bit of a geek.

Q: That's hard to believe.

A: Nah, not hard at all. Most 12-year-old boys are pretty geeky. By the time you're 12 or 13, you're pretty obnoxious.

Q: You've said that one of your favorite youthful pasttimes was lumpjumping. What on earth is that?

A: Well, there were acres and acres of this kind of lowland marsh, and mainly it was kind of quicksand muck that you could sink into and get your feet and socks wet, or you could just get stuck in it. The idea was to avoid it, and there were these tufts of grass that grow in the marshlands, and you jump from one lump to the other. You can actually make some pretty quick time and not get your feet wet. I was good at it, yes. My momentum would get up and you'd have to make decisions quickly, like with skiing or riding a horse. It ought to be an Olympic event.

Q: You're the sixth of eleven kids. Are you the only one who tried his hand at show biz?

A: No, I wouldn't say that. I've got a brother who writes, and he's on stage, and a sister who does a gig where she goes around singing, making bucks that way.

Q: Were your siblings inspired by your success?

A: No, no, no. My sister's older, and my younger brother would have gone that way anyhow.

Q: If you could time-travel in any direction, what year would you pick as your destination?

A: Boy, I think I'd go into the past, way into the past. This century, so I would be too far away. Um, say the Fifties. Mmmm, nice peaceful era. Plush era, you know? A simpler time, and you'd also have a notion of certain events, so you'd be able to make a lot of money on the stock market.

Q: And what would you do when you arrived?

A: I'd warn people about all sorts of wild things. Imagine telling people, `You'll never believe it, but there's gonna be an earthquake over in China.' You know?

A: That's right. They'd lock me up.

Q: Your character in Forever Young was too nervous to propose to his girlfriend. How did you propose to your wife, Robyn?

A: Clumsily, clumsily. I think she asked me. No, it was one of those deals -- it's kind of fuzzy for me now. It's not an easy thing to do for any guy. It's a universal fear. There's something natural in us that doesn't want to commit to any lasting thing. It's scary. I actually helped another guy in his marriage proposal. A guy from MTV got me on tape for a bogus interview. I was just kind of talking generally about filmmaking and halfway through it, I said, `Hold on a minute!' And I looked into the cam