November 25

Source: MaximumCrowe.com

Rude, Anti-Social and Arrogant

By Maree Curtis

The Sunday Magazine
The Sunday Telegraph
November 25, 2001

He's rude, anti-social and arrogant. And he's proud of it. Russell Crowe plays the archetypal Tinseltown misfit to perfection. But a revealing new biography on the Oscar-winning actor suggests the attitude is more than just an act.

When Russell Crowe boarded a plane to try his luck in America almost a decade ago, it is doubtful that he understood just how perfectly he had timed his move. Certainly Aussie actors were de rigueur in Tinseltown at the time and Crowe was a talented performer with an impressive body of work behind him; but it was more than just that. Hollywood needed a bad boy and Crowe fitted the bill perfectly.

Bad boys are as much a part of Hollywood as air kisses and plastic surgery painful but necessary.

They have a certain cachet, they thumb their noses at an industry that takes itself way too seriously, they refuse to play by the rules. And, most importantly, the fans-male and-female-love'em for it. After all, it's much more interesting to read about an actor disgracing himself in public, or running off with someone else's wife (Crowe has done both), than it is to know that Brad Pitt's idea of a great night is watching a video with Jen after a home cooked dinner of tofu and lentil burgers.

But Hollywood hadn't produced a genuine misfit since Bruce Willis's remaining hair started to turning grey. So Crowe's arrogant confidence and disdain for just about everything LA, must have seemed like a gust of fresh wind.

And he set the tone early, leaving his first Hollywood party within minutes of arriving. Hardly a good career move for a virtually unknown actor, given that the gathering had been organised to introduce him to a few industry movers and shakers. Crowe's comment on the incident: "It was a very short party. I split. Hollywood parties are not my vibe. I'm into the more traditional Australian party; beer in the bathtub and you have a good sing."

As his star rose,Crowe continued in much the same "up yours" vein as he had started. Apparently he delights in smoking at meetings, a sin in health-obsessed LA, and worse, blowing the smoke into the faces of highly placed movie moguls.

Undoubtedly he gets away with his behavior because he is, of course, a prodigiously talented actor, equally at ease playing foes on a Roman battlefield, romancing some of Hollywood's most glamorous women (on screen and off) or playing a homosexual plumber looking for Mr. Right. As long as fans are willing to pay to see him in droves, studio bosses are prepared to put up with his, at times, offensive behavior. "I'm still the same arsehole I always was," he has remarked. "I don't feel any pressure to live up to anybody. Except myself."

It would be easy to assume fame and fortune have turned Crowe's head. But he was a rude, arrogant, egocentric pain in the butt long before he leftAustralia for Hollywood. And that's just how his friends describe him.

Part of it, of course, is Crowe's uncompromising commitment to perfection in his work, which he expects to be matched by everyone around him. Coupled with his unshakable self-confidence, its easy to understand why some might find him arrogant. But a strong work ethic doesn't fully explain the man. There is something else going on behind those hooded eyes, a barely constrained anger. A surliness that is at once very attractive and a bit scary. It's that indefinable quality that sorts the real bad boys from the pretenders.

So how did "a lovely little boy" (as one primary-school teacher remembers him) turn into the surly, rude, eat-my-shorts adult Crowe? A new biography on the actor by British journalists Tim Ewbank and Stafford Hildred reveals that the bad-boy attitude first emerged in his early teens as Crowe battled to escape from the shadow of his famous cricketing cousins, New Zealand's legendary Jeff and Martin Crowe.

Crowe was born in Wellington in 1964, the second son of Alex and Jocelyn. When Russell was four, the family moved to Sydney where his parents ran a film-set catering business. But when Crowe was 14 they moved back, taking over the running of Auckland's Albion Pub.

Crowe and his brother Terry were enrolled at Auckland Grammar School where their older cousins Jeff and Martin were already sporting heroes whose fame had spread beyond the school boundaries. Russell, much to his chagrin, became known as the "cousin of the cricketing Crowes". How this must have grated on a self-assured, cocky teenager.

Before returning to New Zealand, Crowe had attended Sydney Boys High School where he was a tough and flamboyant rugby player. But once back in New Zealand, he was confronted by the overwhelming expectation that he would follow his cousins into the sporting arena. But Russell had different ideas. He began a life-long habit of doing exactly the opposite of what others expected.

He shunned sport and announced he was going to be a rock star, forming a band and teaching himself guitar. He immediately became known as the "singing cousin of cricketing Crowes". It was enough to give anyone a bad attitude.

He left Auckland Grammar the following year and transferred to Mount Roskill Grammar. But still, he couldn't completely shake off his famous name. It was here that the deliberately crated bad-boy persona really took shape. As one teacher recalls, Crowe was into "image making". "A lot of the prescribed arrogance was a part of the image he was into image projecting".

At 17, Crowe quit school and went to work for an insurance company. Not surprisingly, he soon discovered that the job didn't suit his personality and instead became a DJ at a local club. Still keen to pursue his singing career, when his was 18, in one last bid to distance himself from his cousins, he changed his name to Russ le Roq. In le Roq - all black clothes, studied sneer and attitude - Crowe had found his alter-ego. But, like Russell Crowe, Russ le Roq couldn't really sing, play music or write songs.

Remarkably, le Roq recorded three single, all of which were abysmal failures. "I actually have two or three of the worst recordings in the history of the New Zealand music industry," says Crowe. "They all went rocketing straight to the bottom of the charts. I've got that whole bottom end covered".

But what le Roq lacked in musical talent, he more than made up for in performance. One night a couple of stage show producers caught his act and, on the strength of it, offered Crowe a part in a production of the Rocky Horror Show. He was 19, and had to admit that the fame and fortune he craved was not likely to come through music. He took the offer and acting became an all-consuming passion.

Crowe's fascination with film had its beginnings in his parents' involvement in the film industry and the hours he spent as a child with his grandfather, Stan Wemyss, hanging around the little film theatre, complete with basement studios, that Stan ran with his wife. Wemyss, whose MBE Crowe wore when he won the best actor Oscar earlier this year, was a television pioneer and renowned war cameraman.

Later, in Australia, young Russell was a wide-eyed fixture on the sets where his parents worked. He would later credit this early exposure for taking away any fear he might have had when he first started serious acting.

Crowe made his acting debut at age five on the TV series Spyforce where his parents were working. Little Russell was hanging around and was roped into a scene. His star quality must have been obvious even then, or perhaps it was just the conspicuous South Sydney Rabbitohs jumper he was wearing, but he caught the director's eye and was given a line of dialogue. According to his mother, the experience struck a chord and from then on he would always dress up, pretending to be a pirate or a soldier but, "whatever he was, he was always the leader".

Seven years later he made a brief appearance in an episode of The Young Doctors. But there is little to suggest that he was serious about acting until his late teens.

Still, from an early age. Crowe had a talent for mimicry and an ear for accents. He took wicked delight in apeing adults, an infuriating habit which caused his parents considerable embarrassment.

I was an annoying little bastard," Crowe once said. "I'd mimic (my parents") friends and my mum would say, don't worry about Russell, he's a bit mental."

His other great childhood pastime was rugby league. From the time he watched his first game when he was five, he became an ardent fan of the Rabbitohs and started to play the sport at primary school.

When he was 10 he had a front tooth knocked out during a match. Always obstinate he refused to have it replaced and it would be 15 years before he would bow to pressure to have it fixed.

At Sydney Boys High teachers recall him as full of energy and a bit cheeky. In a school league photo, where everyone is vying to look tough, Russell can be seen with a flower in his hand. One contemporary recalls him as a flamboyant character. He had that drifty flair about him. He had a way of doing things, over-dramatising things a little bit."

By all reports, Crowe's childhood was happy and overwhelmingly uneventful. He felt loved and nurtured and has often said that he would one day like to have a marriage just like his parents'. Despite the tough facade he is devoted to his family and, in 1994, when his parents struck financial difficulties, Crowe insisted they move to Australia. Until then, he had lived in a rented Sydney flat, but he now had the perfect excuse to buy a first home. He settled on a sprawling old farm near Coffs Harbour which he renovated and now shares with his parents and Terry. Crowe admits his dedication to his work has probably prevented him from settling down on the farm with a wife and kids, which he says he would love to do.

But once he had committed himself to acting, he pursued his career single-mindedly. Small stage roles led to modest TV appearances. He did a stint in Neighbours, appearing in four episodes in '87 but later claimed it was because he wanted to meet Kylie Minogue, "I was reading the script and I'm thinking, this is awful. Then I get to the last scene and I've got to punch Craig McLachlan, and Jason Donovan's trying to break up the fight, while Kylie is riding on my back trying to strangle. And I went, yes, I'll do it."

For a couple of years, Crowe suffered for his art. He lived in a rented room with a shared toilet. Rent was $50 a week and he lived on $3.50 a day, existing on a diet of cigarettes, fried rice and the generosity of friends. When times were desperate, he washed cars, worked asa waiter or resorted to busking. In typical fashion, he was too proud to accept the dole. But persistence paid off, and in '88 he was offered a part in the stage production of Blood Brothers. Word started to spread that Crowe was a promising young actor.

His real break came in '90 when the respected director George Ogilvie offered Crowe a role in his film The Crossing. It was to be a momentous decision for several reasons: it was Crowe's first starring role; he was to meet Danielle Spencer with whom he would have a five year relationship; and it was Ogilvie who finally convinced Crowe to replace the front tooth he had broken when he was 10.

Crowe has recalled the conversation with Ogilvie: "George was such an artist, such a gentle guy. I told him that I didn't want anything false going on here, (how) I went through my whole teenage years: how I failed these auditions; never got a TV commercial; that I didn't want to do anything false and how all the jobs I got were with this gap in my teeth. And George just said, "Well, I think it's good to grow out of that behaviour. Lets have two front teeth when we play Johnny Ryan, shall we?" So I got a new tooth."

The Crossing was also a career break for Danielle Spencer, who became Crowe's only long-term romantic relationship, to date. In a rare, unguarded moment, he once described himself as "the master of unrequited love". The relationship with Spencer ended seven years ago, by all accounts because Crowe wanted to settle down but she felt she wasn't ready. Spencer remains a close friend.

Of course, Crowe's most high-profile love affair has been with Meg Ryan. Brief but passionate, it apparently fizzled because Crowe refused to spend more time in LA. Not playing the Hollywood game may have worked for his career, but not his love life.

But Ewbank and Hildred write that according to friends, Crowe is showing signs of wanting to lose the bad-boy mantle. But there is no sign that he wants to compromise in his work. "You get accused of being arrogant by some because I seem to, in some people's viewpoints, expect success. But it doesn't surprise me when it comes, because I know how much work I put into it." As he said himself, still the same old arsehole, just a little more in touch with his feminine side these days perhaps.