Personal details
- Height: 6′ 0½″ (1.84 m)
- Birth Location: New York City, New York, USA
- Professions: Actor, Producer, Casting Department
Ron Gilbert’s story kicks off in East Harlem, right at 104th and 1st, Manhattan. His roots? A wild mix—dad’s a Russian Jew who made the leap to America back in 1919, mom’s Italian, first generation, bringing all that old-school family energy. Kid grows up rough-and-tumble, altar boy at St. Lucy’s, running the streets but still making time for church. High school, he’s a machine—Cardinal Hayes in the Bronx. Track star, football, just tearing it up. Gets a scholarship to CCNY, and yeah, he’s not just hitting the books; he’s boxing, wrestling—US Army heavyweight champ at Fort Jackson, no joke. But the guy’s got more than muscle. Always had this itch for acting, right? So once he’s out of the Army, he dives into the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in NYC, soaking it all in. Even studied with Lee Strasberg, and if you know anything about acting, that’s legendary stuff. Lifetime member at the Actors Studio, so he’s in deep. Personal life’s a rollercoaster. Married Catherine Dickhaus for three years, had two kids—Adam Frank and Lauren Snow. There’s another daughter, Lea Norin. Grandkids? He’s got four: Chase and Enzo (Adam’s kids), Jack Snow and Alice (Lauren’s). Lost Adam in 2005, tragic accident. These days, you’ll find Ron hitting Muscle Beach in Venice, pumping iron, rolling up on his bike or sometimes his motorcycle—still living loud.
Club Life is kind of this wild ride through the glitzy, grimy world of 1980s New York nightlife, starring Tony Curtis and, yep, me as Mac. The film dives into the whole scene—sleazy clubs, flashy lights, drama everywhere. You’ve got Tommy, this young guy getting pulled into the chaos, chasing dreams and getting smacked by reality every other night. Tony Curtis plays a club owner who’s all charm and hustle, and my character, Mac, gets tangled up in the hustle and heartbreak, too. There’s betrayal, ambition, and a ton of neon. It’s got that classic “rise and fall” vibe, with everyone trying to score big and not get burned. Honestly, the movie doesn’t pull punches—people get used, friendships explode, and by the end, you’re left wondering if the party was ever worth it. Pure ’80s excess, with just enough grit to keep it real.
We need to find the key to open the door to your talent. That’s the line that pretty much sums up the whole vibe of the movie. It’s about this guy—awkward, a bit lost, definitely underestimating himself—who’s stuck in this rut until someone (maybe a mentor, maybe just a really blunt friend) throws down that challenge. Suddenly, the story isn’t just about playing it safe anymore. Now it’s about digging deep, facing all the weird, uncomfortable parts of yourself, and figuring out what actually makes you tick. There’s a bunch of setbacks, obviously—nobody just unlocks “talent” like it’s a cheat code. But you watch him trip, get back up, and slowly start to realize, hey, maybe he’s actually got something. In the end, it’s not just about success or fame or whatever. It’s about seeing your own potential, even when nobody else does yet.
6′ 0½″ (1.84 m)
Konidela Ram Charan
New York City, New York, USA