Flak Magazine: Review of Proof of Life, 12-8-00

In his first movie since donning the metal man-skirt in Gladiator, Russell Crowe does not disappoint the ladies out there who need to see more of his trademark smoldering intensity, or at least plenty of stoic-but-longing gazes. He will, however, disappoint just about everyone else with Proof of Life, a movie in which Crowe fails to display both the acting chops he has used so effectively in drama (The Insider, L.A. Confidential) and the passionate hero of yore he resurrected in last summer’s Roman epic.

In the second film this season featuring a Vanity Fair cover girl and her is-he-or-isn’t-he love interest, Crowe stars as Terry Thorne, an insurance worker who specializes in negotiating the release of hostages from dangerous Third World areas. He finds himself in a fictional Latin American country, helping Alice, an ex-pat hippie played by aforementioned cover girl Meg Ryan, track down and save her engineer husband, the always reliable David Morse.

Inspired by a Vanity Fair article and a book about the Kidnapping & Ransom business, Proof of Life should have been an exciting movie. In addition to a strong cast, it’s got a great premise: Some workaday Joe’s occupation is to swoop into exotic, scary locales and pluck out political hostages, who themselves often have little to do with politics. Confused prisoners, helicopters, explosions and regular old blokes — it all makes for a recipe that would be pretty hard to mess up.

Unfortunately, that was no problem for director Taylor Hackford and screenwriter Tony Gilroy, who between the two of them (and often together) have been responsible for The Devil’s Advocate, Bait, The Cutting Edge, Dolores Claiborne and parts of Armageddon. Hackford and Gilroy take a cast and story with great potential and do absolutely nothing with them, going so far as to add an unnecessary romance subplot between the leads for good measure.

Proof of Life’s first two hours (yes, you read that right) drag on, with a quietly simmering Crowe and a perfectly tousled Ryan gazing desperately at each other and smoking, pounding in frustration on the shortwave radio that connects them to the man negotiating her husband’s freedom. All that time spent smoking, staring and slamming apparently led the pair to develop feelings for each other, as most of their flirtation occurs offscreen and is defined by Ryan sipping beer from Crowe’s mug — a romantic scene bettered only by Ben Affleck, Liv Tyler and some animal crackers.

Meanwhile, Morse provides the film’s only drama, soulfully expressing the desperation of a captive. His developing friendship with another captive, who later escapes aided by a map Morse drew, has more depth and feeling than any of the scenes shared by Crowe and Ryan.

The rescue operation, led by Crowe and fellow K&R worker David Caruso, is the movie’s high point, lending it the exhilaration promised in its story, adding enough gunfire, explosions and raw human emotion to fill hundreds of action movies.

All the same, it is too little, too late. Proof of Life is another one of those shoulda, coulda movies. A good story and interesting cast spoiled once again by the film industry’s ineptitude, it turns into a predictable, plodding drama that doesn’t deserve to be called a thriller. Here’s hoping all those involved — especially Crowe — find a better way to use their talents in the future.

— Stephanie Kuenn (smkuenn at gmail dot com)