The first glimpse I had of what Russell Crowe's friends call Crowe's "intensity" was on the green waves of Sydney Harbor. In advance of our meeting, Crowe's publicist announced that her client had a surprise for me: he had rented a tall ship--like the one he captains in his new movie, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World--for the sake of a photo shoot and our introductory chat. It seemed a bit obvious--ship movie, ship interview--and I wondered if it wasn't a clumsy gesture designed to focus the conversation on knots and fathoms rather than more interesting matters like bar brawls and love affairs. But soon there were other surprises to ponder.
As we toddled into the harbor aboard the Svanen, a 120-ft. oak beauty, Crowe was nowhere to be found, and our crew became suspiciously quiet. Once we were past the commuter ferries and tourist boats, the Svanen's engine yawned, and I was told to look toward land. Squinting, I could just make out two shapes bobbing on the waves. One was a woman; the other was Crowe. "This is the real surprise!" said Crowe's publicist. "He's kayaking out to meet you with his personal trainer!" I was surprised, or rather, confused. Was I supposed to be impressed that he could kayak? Or swept away by the strange, albeit larger-than-life gesture? I was still stumped when Crowe scaled the ship's ladder, grumbled something to the photographer who had been taking pictures of his approach and disappeared into the hold. "He told me to f___ off," said the photographer nervously. "I was breaking his concentration."
Ten minutes later, Crowe emerged, having changed into loose-fitting Levi's and a dark sweater. He posed for a few more pictures and waved grandly to a boat across the way, joking, "My service to Australian tourism." Then he grabbed a bag of Doritos and sat down cross-legged for a chat about rugby. He was smart, funny and spontaneous. With his hair cut short, a week's worth of growth crowding his round face and his chubby hand digging in the chip bag, he looked like a very comfortable bear. After a while, Crowe suggested we paddle back to his apartment on the Woolloomooloo wharf. Moments later, the two of us were slicing through the waves. "I've got a wet ass," he shouted across the water. It was an odd day.
This, in microcosm, is what Crowe has been doing to moviegoers since his breakout performance in 1997's L.A. Confidential. He jerks them around with surliness, then seduces them with immense talent and charm. "Russell is very unpredictable," says Master director Peter Weir. "In life and on the screen you're never quite sure what he's going to do in any situation. It keeps you watching." Says Ron Howard, Crowe's friend and the director of 2001's A Beautiful Mind: "He's a pretty intense guy. And he is definitely, uh, well, the mood can shift on you--I'll put it that way."