Gladiator: In Print Page 3

Russell Crowe
By Nick Madigan
Variety (January 15-21, 2001)

Russell Crowe cuts a swath, so to speak, in "Gladiator" in a role that calls for someone who looks at ease settling scores the old-fashioned way.

DreamWorks' sword-and-sandals pic, which reportedly cost about $103 million to make, required Crowe to play a heroic Spanish general in the service of Rome who falls from grace and loses his family and freedom in the process. Thrown into slavery, Maximus takes his revenge in the gladiator arena.

Choosing Crowe, who was becoming well known for his Oscar-nominated performance in 1999's "The Insider" but was not yet a major star, was a calculated move, according to producer Douglas Wick.

"You really want to believe that Maximus is a real person and not a movie star in a toga," says Wick, who also cites New Zealand-born Crowe's "extra-ordinary screen presence."

"Russell has real authority, an inner engine that makes him pop off the screen," Wick continues. "When you think of the movie stars that last, they have some kind of furnace inside, an inner dynamic. Russell brought that to the character."

Crowe's own sense of perfectionism was the crowning touch to his work as the brutally efficient Maximus, Wick says. "His standards are extraordinary, if Russell doesn't feel that a part of the character's journey is credible or well thought out, he'll say so, and if no one listens he'll get on a table and shout until someone does.

"There's no quarter-inch of any performance that Russell is involved in that he won't fight to the death for."

Which makes his casting in the film all more appropriate.

Connie Nielsen
By Thomas J. McLean
Variety (January 15-21, 2001)

Believing in a high-tech, computer graphic-generated ancient Rome may sound like a difficult job for any actor, but Connie Nielsen says "Gladiator" director Ridley Scott made it easy.

"Once you start doing a thing like that, you are so completely into the story," she says of her role as Lucilla in the summer smash. "What Ridley created around us were absolutely convincing back-drops . . . It's so easy to fall into that fiction."

Born in Denmark, Nielsen began acting at 15. After traveling extensively, she worked and studied in Paris and Rome before her American film debut in "The Devil's Advocate," and roles in "Rushmore," "Permanent Midnight," "Soldier" and "Mission to Mars."

Nielson came to the "Gladiator " role courtesy of a casting director who sent a tape she had done for another film to Scott. After a series of meetings in America and London, Nielsen says she never expected to actually land the role.

"I kept hearing the big Hollywood names who were going to do it.," she recalls. "I guess Ridley just kept on thinking I was right for it."

Proper casting was crucial for the complex role. Lucilla is the former lover of Russell Crowe's Maximus, sister of the vain Emperor Commodus and mother to the heir to Rome. Getting into character involved learning about the privileges and limitations of life in ancient Rome, and about the reality of the person she was playing.

"I had to think, Îwhat is the thought process of a person who's raised as royalty, absolute royalty?'" Nielsen says. "At the same time (that) she's a very spoiled brat, she has to live with a lot of compromises."

Nielsen took her cues toward making the character likable from the script, which indicated Lucilla had "some sense of principles."

It's not until the film wrapped and Nielson got out of character that the enormity of the production hit home.

"Afterwards, it's sort of overwhelming," says the actress, who is soldiering on with her career.

She will be seen next in "One Hour Photo" with Robin Williams and Eriq La Salle, and then with Tommy Lee Jones in William Friedkin's "The Hunted."

A Hero Has Risen
By Sharon van Wyk
Pretoria News, South Africa November 25, 2000

From the dust of the Colosseum to box-office sensation

Hollywood describes him variously as brooding, surly, antagonistic, arrogant, confrontational, cocky and bristling and doesn't seem able to grasp exactly where he's coming from.

True, actor Russell Crowe doesn't mince his words, has a predilection for the F-word and calls everyone "mate". He's also got a bit of a reputation as a bar-room brawler and has no compunction about speaking his mind. But then he has a marvelous sense of humour, doesn't take himself too seriously and believes in living life to the max.

Tinsel Town's big-wigs have a problem finding the reasons for Crowe's quirkiness and apparent stand-offish attitude but they largely tend to overlook the answer - he comes from Down Under.

New Zealand-born adoptive Australian Crowe is the antithesis of a movie star, prefering the company of his family and the wide open spaces of his farm seven hours north of Sydney to the fake flakes of La-La Land. He doesn't buy the American dream, and if he did he'd take it back and demand a refund.

But that's fairly typical of an Aussie male isn't it? Love 'em, or hate em, there's no in-between - just extremes.

All of which adds up to an inate charm which seems to have had Hollywood and the world's women weak at the knees for most of this year. Or at least since his heroic performance in the blockbusting epic Gladiator which is being released locally on video and DVD next week.

Crowe's role as Maximus, the Roman general-turned slave-turned gladiator, is hotly tipped for a Best Actor nomination at next year's Academy Awards. And word is out that the movie's British director Ridley Scott will be acknowledged with a Best Director nomination and Best Picture nod. Scott will be entertaining the Hollywood glitterati at a party celebrating Gladiator's launch on video and DVD at Academy headquarters on November 30 and Dreamworks is known to be actively pushing the box office mega-hit in the build-up to the Golden Globe and Oscar nomination annoucements.

Being involved with Oscar-acknowledged movies is nothing new to Crowe who was nominated for Best Actor last year for his role as tobacco industry whistle-blower Jeffrey Wigand in Michael Mann's The Insider. He also stunned critics and filmmakers alike with his role as troubled cop Bud White in Curtis Hanson's brilliant 1997 double Oscar-winner LA Confidential.

At the time these two pieces were icing on an acting cake which had been in the baking phase since he was 6 years old. His first role at that tender age was in the Aussie TV series Spyforce and was followed by a stint, aged 12, in the popular soap The Young Doctors.

Early adult roles included spots in Neighbours and a role in the made-for-TV mini-series Brides of Christ. He also tried treading the boards with various stage roles including a stint in Grease and donning high heels and fishnets to play Frank N Furter in a touring production of The Rocky Horror Show.

His first movie role was in 1990 in Prisoners of the Sun (also known as Blood Oath) but it was his second movie, the critically acclaimed The Crossing, which finally gave him his big break.

Recognition followed with a performance in Proof which won him a best supporting actor award from the Australian Film Institute (AFI), but it was playing a neo-Nazi which finally made Crowe a star in his adopted homeland in the box-office record-breaking Romper Stomper. He won the AFI's best actor award for his outstanding portrayal of the vicious skinhead Hando.

The role also got him noticed outside of Australia, catching the eye of Sharon Stone who quickly cast him in The Quick and the Dead as the love interest opposite her lead.

Although The Quick and the Dead ultimately flopped at the box office, it enabled Crowe to get a foothold in Hollywood, winning him lesser roles in smaller films such as Rough Magic and Breaking Up and giving him the chance to ham it up as the psychotic computer-generated villain Sid 6.7 opposite Denzel Washington in Virtuosity.

He intersected LA Confidential and The Insider with a lead role in Mystery Alaska, playing the captain of a small-town Alaskan pond hockey team which takes on the New York Rangers.

And so to Rome. And the Colosseum and hand-to-hand combat in full body armour. Gladiator has painstakingly recreated the sights and sounds of the ancient world with the very best modern technology has to offer, with computer-generated images and backcloths finally doing justice to the epic genre.

But images aren't everything, and director Scott has backed them up with some formidable acting talent, awe-inspiring action and a tear-jerking story-line.

Crowe's Maximus is a traditional, albeit unwilling hero. His morals are sound and his heart is good. He seeks vengeance when he is wronged but not for personal gain or power.

Maximus exudes strength and honour and eschews the two as he goes into battle, clenched fist clasped across a brave and steadfast heart.

Crowe's brooding portrayal also oozes enough sexuality to ignite even the most frigid of film fans and has turned him into one of the biggest box-office turn-ons to hit Hollywood since Tom Cruise did his thing in Top Gun. It has also attracted the attention of the tabloids and gossip-mongers who have tracked his every move since the release of Gladiator with glee.

It was unfortunate for him then that during his follow-up to Gladiator - Proof of Life - he became romantically involved with co-star Meg Ryan at precisely the same time as she announced her separation and pending divorce from husband Dennis Quaid.

Speculation is rife that the resulting bad Press will affect the box-office returns of Proof of Life which is due to premier in Los Angeles on December 4, going on general release in the US on December 8. The movie, directed by Taylor Hackford, centres on the illicit relationship between a woman (Ryan) whose husband is taken hostage in South America and the hostage negotiator (Crowe) called in to secure his release.

After Proof of Life wrapped in July, Crowe devoted some time to his other passion - music.

He is singer and frontman for the curiously named Australian rock band Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts (TOFOG) a band which evolved from a friendship he struck up with guitarist Dean Cochran in New Zealand in 1984. Together with drummer Dave Kelly and bass player Garth Adam, TOFOG has a songwriting history of more than 14 years and has released a number of CDs.

The band has built up a solid fan base thanks to its website www.gruntland.com and award-winning Crowe fansite www.maximumcrowe.com and has played to packed houses in Australia, the US and London. Far from being an excuse for the actor to strut his stuff on a different stage, TOFOG is a going concern, writing, recording and playing some seriously good music with a range of songs offering thought-provoking narrative and catchy rock tunes.

But for now Crowe's "day job" is the one that pays.

Thanks to Sharon van Wyk!
(You can read more of Sharon's writings on Rusell here.)

Gladiator Gone From Many Screens, But Hardly Forgotten
By Dawn Dixon Cotter
The Charlotte Observer
Sunday, October 1, 2000

I savor the special moments in my life: college graduation, marriage, the birth of my daughter, the day I spoke with Russell Crowe!

It all began with a movie last May. And June. And July, August, September.

The ritual

"One for `Gladiator,' " I say for the 39th time since the opening of the Roman epic starring His Aussie Blokeness. I grab the ticket and dash to the concession stand for the next part of my ritual.

"A medium buttered popcorn and Diet Coke, please." The teen counter boy, his face pierced and studded, shuffles in slow-mo. I tell myself to stay calm. A 40-something woman who's seen a movie a gazillion times can afford to miss the first scene - the Battle of Vindobona, the best part!

Counter boy hands me change; I spare his life. I snatch some napkins and march off to the darkened den of stadium seating, muttering "Maximus" under my breath.

Yes, Maximus. Or is it Russell? I'm obsessed. But it's OK - I can quit anytime.

I'm a functioning financial editor by day and a screenwriter by night. As a wife and mother, I cook and clean on a tree-lined street in a house Martha Stewart would be proud of.

And yet ... And yet ...

The obsession

My husband stows his golf bag in the trunk of his car as I'm getting into mine.

"Where you going?" he asks.

"Movies," I mutter.

"Not `Gladiator' again. You're obsessed."

"Bye! I'll be in Rome for the rest of the afternoon."

When I arrive at the theater, Marsha (who's too embarrassed to use her real name here) greets me. She's 40 and is a public relations executive in Charlotte.

Marsha has seen Gladiator 10 times - three times with me - and collects the Oz man's other movies. She went cold turkey off Crowe for awhile. She stopped traipsing to theaters, deleted Crowe bookmarks from her computer, trash-canned the cyber-folder filled with stories from 50-plus fan Web sites and megabytes of gossip about Meg Ryan/Russell Crowe sightings.

A week later, she went back to "Gladiator" to drool over Russell's muscles on the pretense of enjoying the special effects, not ogling the Thighmaster in every scene.

Crowe's loyal legions cross ages, races and socioeconomic strata. Women on the verge of a Russell breakdown are addicted to Hollywood's golden-male image: masculine, capable and sexy, like Bogart, Gable or Wayne. They're flawed but good-hearted men who get things done, no whining. Witness Crowe as Bud White in "L.A. Confidential" or Cort in "The Quick and the Dead."

I agree with Montreal Gazette writer Lisa Fitterman, who says sensitive New Age guys (SNAGs) are not what women want: "I am beyond hot. I want heat. I want Russell Crowe."

Give us take-charge heroes who can take care of us. I envy the June Cleavers of generations past, who weren't expected to bring home the bacon and cook it, too.

"All we do is juggle," says my friend Cindy, a fellow Crowe-caine who is a married loan officer and mother of two in Houston. "The rules governing behavior between the sexes are confusing. Yes, women have it all now, but we have to do it all, too. I get tired just thinking about it."

Crowe-ing has given us new life.

The band

Cindy and I rendezvous in Austin, Texas, seeking 3-D Russell. To worship Crowe, you must know the music he creates with his band, Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts, TOFOG or the Grunts.

The band was in Austin in August to record a new album, "Bastard Life or Clarity," and while there, they rocked three consecutive Friday nights at Stubb's Bar-B-Q. It's dusty, musty and Texas-cute, with a big awning-thingy over the stage and no seating.

Yes! We could get up close!

Before tickets went on sale, Stubb's got 200-300 calls a day from all over the world. The 6,600 tickets sold out in 90 minutes.

Cindy and I fold into line one Friday at 11 a.m., some fans having camped out since 5:30 a.m. We broil in 100-degree heat for nine hours and bond with our fellow Russell-holics. Some get treated for dehydration by emergency services. Others glug water, fan with cardboard and relay back and forth to the shade.

At 8 p.m., the whole salty, disheveled hive of us swarms toward the stage like the busy little bees we are - and waits another two hours. A string quartet plays too-lovely music. An Australian comic runs a balloon through his nose and pulls it out his mouth. Cindy plops herself down onto the gravel, mouth turned down at the corners.

When Maximus, I mean Russell, finally appears, all hell breaks loose.

Russell courts us with "How the f*&% are you, Austin?" He launches into a husky version of "The Legend of Barry Kable," all hyper swivel, passion and sweat, as captivating as the thin Elvis.

I examine the baseball cap I bought for Russell: Dark blue with white embroidery, "NC Tarheels."

My arm goes up, waving the hat. Women throw lingerie that he doesn't touch. My arm goes up again. "For God's sake," says Cindy, tired of my elbow against her nose, "throw the d--- thing!" We throw it together.

Russell walks to the front of the stage and sees my hat. He picks it up and reads into the mike, "Nawth Caro-loina Tah-heels," then looks down to find the giver.

I would kill for lipstick at this moment. I wave - it's me, me, ME. He smiles, then sniffs the inside of the cap.

"You've wawn this," he teases.

No, no, no, I shake my head like a rag doll. "Are you shu-ah?" Blue eyes twinkle.

Oh, to be cool like Lucilla in Gladiator and say, "Rich matrons pay well to be pleasured by the bravest champions." Instead, I squeal, "No, I haven't worn it, I swear. I bought it just for you!"

"You bought it just faw me?" So gracious. "Thank you."

Gaaah! I turn to stone. Thank goodness for the crowd - no way for me to crumple to the ground.

The horde

So are we just groupies? Freaks?

No, we're ordinary people with jobs, husbands and children - but maybe a touch more of the giddy-headed enthusiasm that keeps life interesting.

Because family and friends get terribly vexed with the whole thing, though, we have to turn to our online support groups: Maximum Russell Crowe, the Barbarian Horde, the Crowe's Perch, Russell Something to Crowe About, Russell Crowe Heaven and Russell Crowe Eye Candy, just to name a few. (If curious, try www.maximumcrowe.com.)

In cyberspace, sisters worldwide give us up-to-the-minute reports on what Maximus, I mean Russell, is doing. In a network the CIA would envy, Crowegirls out-scoop newspapers and magazines by hours, days, weeks.

Only a couple of hours after the July TOFOG concert in London, Harriet (from Liverpool) sleepily logged onto Russell Something to Crowe About to say she'd seen Meg Ryan at the concert, looking all happy and possessive. Grrrr!

"He finally stripped off the black long-sleeved shirt to reveal a black singlet (Brit for tank top)," she says in her concert posting. "It's tosh about him putting on a few pounds. Hmmmm. Those arms! And those bloody eyes of his are amazing ... had me rooted to the spot, unable to utter a word. Soooooo blue! You see them in the films and you know they're nice, but Omigod, in real life, they are just to die for!"

It's not just lust, you know.

We also ponder intellectual things, like the role of Big Tobacco in "The Insider" or the protagonist's struggle in "Gladiator" or Russell's chameleonlike acting ability. Or, well, just who is he sleeping with, anyway?

The next phase

I'm disconsolate these days, riffling through the movie section of the newspaper. "Gladiator" disappeared from Charlotte theaters a few weeks ago.

As a Maximus junkie, I've absorbed the depressing shock that I might never see the epic on the Big Screen again.

Is that all there is?

No! There's the DVD edition due out Nov. 21.

I've already ordered mine. And believe me: I'm not the only one.

This Russell Crowe fantasy may end one day. But not yet. Not yet.