Ready for action

An orchestra of wheezing milk-steaming machines sporadically drowned out Jake Gyllenhaal’s voice. But the 23-year-old actor wasn’t sipping a nonfat latte with extra foam, or even at this coffee shop for that matter. Meeting thwarted, he was telegraphing details, both mental and visual, from his white-walled “what does that say about me?” bedroom in Los Angeles, where he resides with Kirsten Dunst. What is he wearing? A pair of Neil Barrett jeans and a plain white T-shirt.

Gyllenhaal has been busy, vogueing for photo shoots to promote his new movie, “The Day After Tomorrow,” an elements-driven, effects-packed action flick that opens May 28.

“It felt like a different movie than I’ve ever done ... just in terms of scope and size,” he said of the film, which he saw for the first time the day before this chat. “It blew me away,” he said, a smile rising in his voice. “Not to toot my own horn or anything.”

He said he doesn’t normally like seeing himself on screen, even if he has a bag of popcorn, no butter, to distract him.

“I don’t usually have the best time watching because I am so critical, which I don’t like being,” he said.

Even “if it’s a great movie and the story works, watching myself is hard.”

Among roles Gyllenhaal is better known for are his characters in indie films “Donnie Darko,” with his sister Maggie and Jena Malone, and “The Good Girl” with Jennifer Aniston.

He can also be seen in next year’s Ang Lee film, “Brokeback Mountain,” with Heath Ledger. The movie is an adaptation of a love story between two cowboys that was written by E. Annie Proulx and originally published in the New Yorker. It is now part of a collection of short stories.

Gyllenhaal said he is often drawn to projects, like “Brokeback Mountain,” that explore relationships and family structure.

“We’re -- I guess you could say we’re so ignorant ... when it comes to relationships of any kind,” Gyllenhaal said. “Be it a relationship between a man and a man or a woman and a woman.”

He added: “That idea that two people can fall in love, can actually fall in love ... and that due to circumstances and things in their lives they can physically consummate [the relationship] but they can’t really and emotionally consummate it. ... I was really into that idea.”

Unlike seeing himself on the screen, Gyllenhaal said, watching his family at work is a treat.

He lauded sister Maggie’s performance in the racy “Secretary,” which was nominated for an Independent Spirit Award in 2003.

“The only weirdness is watching someone you know so well perform,” Gyllenhaal said. “The fact that it was provocative and sexual -- you know, I don’t really find those things as shocking or important as people find them or as people think I should find them.

“She gave an incredible performance. That’s what I saw.”

Besides, he said, watching others is easier because at that point, “I’m just like part of the audience too.”

A kitten’s plaintive meow interrupted Gyllenhaal. He said he adopted the tiny unnamed ball of fur -- white, with gray ears and tail -- two days ago from the litter of a friend’s cat. “The dog is chasing the kitten around,” he explained.

The dog, a 1-year-old German shepherd named Atticus, apparently hadn’t worked out all his puppy energy during his time at the dog park that day.

“At the dog park, I let him run around,” Gyllenhaal said. “When we go out, we play catch and we run together ... dog and owner stuff.”

The whir of the milk steamer broke up the conversation again, as the coffee shop counter attendant asked a customer: “Would you like that tall, grande or vente?”

On the other end of the line Gyllenhaal free-associates that if he weren’t an actor he could see himself as a chef -- maybe.

He said he likes to cook “every possible thing -- anything I can get my hands on,” no matter what type of cuisine.

The Los Angeles native said he was even more inspired after meeting Alice Waters recently at a party in New York. The famous chef who designs all-natural menus for her Berkeley restaurant Chez Panisse impressed Gyllenhaal with her sharp mind.

“I was so thrilled to meet her,” he gushed.

He doesn’t gush often, he pointed out, and “I don’t really get star-struck on actors.”

The problem, he said, is that after watching someone on screen there’s an expectation about how that person will be -- a quotient for disappointment.

Gyllenhaal said that with his own roles, he never feels as if he takes on a persona.

He’s not the type to “hide behind the mask,” he said, but rather likes to take on characters in whom he sees a part of himself or people to whom he can relate.

Bump into him on the street, and what you see -- usually casual, low-key -- is what you’ll get. But first you have to find out where he hangs out -- places only hard-core Angelenos know about.

“I love L.A.,” Gyllenhaal said. “I grew up in L.A. It’s my home.”

Any hints? “If I told you, I’d be giving away the best places to go. I don’t want that. I just want [people] to go to the fake L.A.”

“Go away, go away,” he joked. “Leave the real L.A. to the people who live here.”

The kitten once again broke up Gyllenhaal’s faux tirade, right on cue with a woman ordering a caramel macchiato amid the wheezing steamers.

“I should go feed the cat,” Gyllenhaal said. Goodbyes were exchanged. The kitten meowed. Dial tone.