The second in my weekend mini-festival of movies made by and for people who hate people like me is Fireproof. So widely is former TV star/religious fanatic/banana enthusiast Kirk Cameron associated with the movie that the theater I went to here in South Texas was advertising it as "Kirk Cameron's Fireproof". As a thesis statement, this is something I'm eager to put to the test, but just the way it was phrased...is Kirk Cameron really that much of a draw? Seeing the movie so advertised -- and I later discovered this theater was far from the only place where the movie was thus billed -- was, for me, akin to seeing a marquee reading "Bounthanh Xaynhachack's Appaloosa". (It's also not entirely accurate: Cameron didn't write or direct the film, and may not actually know what writing and directing are, as his claim that he was unable to kiss the female lead in Fireproof because she is not his wife suggests that he doesn't actually know what acting is.) Still, like I said, this movie isn't made for me. If there are lost millions for whom Kirk Cameron is a legit box office draw -- and the crowded house in the theater suggested that there just might be -- then for tonight, I would be one of them.
In Fireproof, Cameron plays a firefighter who is gradually falling out of love with his wife, played by Fireproof's Erin Bethea. (Cameron's downright Dukakasian appearance when decked out in fireman gear that looks a size too big for him makes one question why it was chosen as his character's fictional profession, until you gradually realize that it's so they can cut to an occasional action-packed fire rescue as respite from the constant relationship yackety blap. That's right, Christian males: this is a chick flick.) The reasons are murky, though it's clearly implied that it's mostly her fault for getting on his Hooksexups: Cameron is relentlessly misogynistic in the movie, and seems to want to repair his marriage out of a sort of bloody-minded sense of obligation than because he actually cares for his wife. In order to patch things up with the missus, Fireman Kirk decided to follow the teachings of a book called The Love Dare (originally just a made-up gimmick for the movie, now actually available as the producers sensed the presence of additional fleece on the flock); in the end, he learns to conquer his indifference and hostility and grudgingly love his life partner again.
The biggest problem with Fireproof isn't that Cameron's character, who is named Caleb Holt and acts like it, is an unlikable jerk. (We're constantly assured by the movie that he is a good person, generally by way of rescuing people from fires instead of just standing around watching them burn to death, but nothing in his behavior towards his wife, his family, his friends, or anyone who isn't actually engulfed in flames manages to convince you that he's not irredeemably schmucky.) The biggest problem is that the movie is deadly dull. One of the biggest problems with any message movie is that the message is generally thought by the filmmakers to be more important than the movie part, and that's the case here in spades. Why should any of us give a shit if Caleb and Catherine can save their marriage, when the script gives us no reason to care about them and the actors give us no reason to like them? Say what you will about An American Carol (for instance, you could say it sucks), but at least it wasn't boring.
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