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Grade: C

Verdict: Meg and Russell sittin' in a tree ...

Details: Starring Meg Ryan and Russell Crowe. Directed by Taylor Hackford. Rated R for violence, profanity and some drug material. 2 hours, 17 minutes.

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Review: “Proof of Life” natters on for about 30 minutes before Russell Crowe actually touches Meg Ryan, which is the main reason people want to see this movie anyway.

It's after Ryan's film hubby David Morse has been kidnapped in South America by rebels and held for ransom. And she's, you know, distressed. In a comforting gesture, Crowe, as the no-nonsense insurance gun who negotiates hostage releases, reaches out and puts his hand on Ryan's knee. Gently. She places her hand over his. Softly. He looks into her eyes. Deeply.

Bam. An on-screen love connection is fueled, an off-screen affair is under way, a reel marriage is in question and a real one is imploding.

There's not really one moment in “Proof of Life” when the audience won't be thinking about Ryan and Crowe's off-screen coupling. How they heated up the set when the cameras weren't rolling. How Ryan's husband Dennis Quaid filed for divorce (for the record, he appears tan, fit and unflustered in Steven Soderbergh's upcoming drug film “Traffic”). How they apparently tried to reconcile. How she then filed her own papers. How she started being seen in public with Crowe.

Honestly, all the breakup stuff won't hurt this movie. It can only help.

“Proof of Life” doesn't have much evidence that the film is alive. It's a hostage crisis flick that comes off as a cross between Costa-Gavras' “Missing” and a Sylvester Stallone “Rambo” movie, but not as interesting as the former or even as entertaining as the latter. In a year of so many so-so movies, “Proof of Life” is the so-soest.

It's never a rotten flick. Crowe is convincing and good, but no gladiator. Ryan has her moments, though it's never clear whether the way she's tilting her head, playing with her fingers and looking up at Crowe after she first meets him is acting or preening for her co-star.

Surprisingly, the best actor is Pamela Reed, who storms in as Morse's sister and immediately sets up a tangible, dysfunctional misconnection with her stressed-out sister-in-law. Too bad she's shipped off half-way through the film. Something about raising ransom funds. David Caruso, who plays Crowe's hostage negotiating buddy Dino, tries some grandstanding line delivery. But who can blame a long lost actor for that?

After what seems like hours of hostage negotiating this and that, “Proof of Life” takes a mighty turn. Crowe dons a skimpy tank top (of course, the woman seated to my right immediately sat up straight in her chair). He gathers his pals and heads for the South American highlands on a rescue mission, fully decked out in camouflage, armed to the teeth and ready to go medieval on somebody.

If only. Before guns blaze, Crowe and crew crouch in the brush above the rebels' camp, communicating with each other in some absurd rescue code lingo that sorta goes like this: “Downtown, this is Uptown. I see two at 9 o'clock. You see Midtown, Downtown? Uptown over.”

Silly? You bet.

Actually, moviegoers may be most disappointed in the lack of fiery clinching between Crowe and Ryan. Their characters experience, for the most part, a love affair from a distance — looks of longing, an occasional shared glass of beer, a shoulder rub here and there.

Yes, their fling makes for one, tedious flick.

— Bob Longino, Cox News Service

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