‘I like villains because there’s something so attractive about a committed person.’

– Russell Crowe

While Love in Limbo saw Russell showcasing a lighter side – and cast members enjoying a lighter side of Russell on set – there were still moments of unease. In this particular case, the cause was Russell relaxing between takes with a copy of Nazi reading material.

‘It was funny actually, because halfway through that film I started preparing for Romper Stomper, so Aden Young [who played Barry] has all these photos of me in Arthur’s silly old suits and ties reading Mein Kampf.’

He said, ‘There’s a sort of a filing system that you fill up and you empty. But stuff like reading Mein Kampf, it’s nothing. I’m not reading it to take it in and believe in it, you know? I’m just reading it out of interest, and it focuses me, and through the act of reading I’m considering other aspects of the character as well.

‘It kept me in an odd place. It kept me slightly unbalanced, and that’s where I wanted to be while I was doing that role. A guy like [Romper Stomper skinhead] Hando is abhorrent to me. The philosophy that governs his life is something that disgusts me completely, so that was an interesting learning experience.’

Hando was a role that would burn into the consciousness of Australian film critics, cause an almighty fuss in the news media and create a buzz about Russell being one to watch in Hollywood. ‘I didn’t think they were going to make another movie like that in Australia for a long time,’ he said.

Russell knew about the part for nearly 18 months before he landed it. The film’s director Geoffrey Wright had been impressed after seeing his performance in Proof. ‘I didn’t know anything about Russell at the time. But I thought he was the most menacing gentle dishwasher I’ve ever seen. There’s always something threatening about him on screen. Right after I’d seen Proof I called my producers and said, “We may have our boy.”’

Up to that point, however, it looked as though Russell would miss his chance. Another actor had been cast – prompting Russell to phone the director repeatedly, insisting he had the wrong man. In the event, his casting was actually due to the original actor not looking fierce enough when they shaved his head. That wasn’t the case with Russell. His already imposing frame, coupled with his hair shaved to the bone, was exactly the intense look that Wright was after for Hando, the leader of a group of Australian Nazi skinheads.

Typically, it was a part that he would immerse himself in. ‘Every role has different things that speak to you. With Romper Stomper, I was afraid of delving into the darkness of the neo-Nazi ideology on one hand, but on the other hand, I could tell that it was going to be a very important social document. That was the imperative behind my doing it.’

To HQ, he added, ‘The scary thing about my character, Hando, is the marriage of ultra-violence with ideology. Plus the unpredictability of it being just plain fucking mad. Racism is one of the most evil and heinous thought patterns that a human can get into. For that alone, it is important for me to do that character to demonstrate how wrong it is.’

Initially, while Russell liked the visceral energy from the script, he needed to make sure the film would capture the screenplay’s tone. He even phoned the film’s director, Geoffrey Wright, to ensure this wouldn’t be a Nazi propaganda piece. ‘He satisfied me. He’s a very intelligent man. I could see the positive aspect of exposing this stuff to the public eye. National Socialism gets strength from being underground.’

In a revealing interview about his character, he said, ‘What Hando is doing is standing up and saying, “I am strong enough to look after you. If you give me your loyalty I will solve all your little problems. Hang out with me, you’ll never want for food, for money. I will organise the lot.” He’s the archetypal patriarch. And he loves these guys. People say a guy like that can’t love – what a load of shit. He is creating a family, but the bottom line is the people who aren’t in the family have to be wiped out.

‘The perfect world for Hando is a situation where everyone is of the same mind. It’s the idea that society would be more balanced and more easily controlled if everyone is the same. That’s National Socialism. That’s Hitler. That’s racism.’

It was time spent in the UK that would prove to be a main source of inspiration for the character. Heading to Wrexham in Wales, where some of his relatives came from, with an English pal, he stopped off in Cardiff to try and perfect the accent for his Love in Limbo character. However, it turned out that his Romper Stomper character would benefit the most.

They stopped off at a pub, which was said to be filled with unsavoury characters. Russell strode in and saw that this was perfect place to do some research. Sitting down near a ‘couple of Neanderthals’ – according to his journalist friend Martyn Palmer – he quickly got into a conversation, ever so gently moving from small talk into more muddy waters. He was desperate for them to open up – and that they did, with ‘spectacularly nasty racist garbage’ coming from their mouths.

It was only later that Palmer realised just how much of a risk Russell had been taking – he’d been secretly taping them on his dictaphone. His recorder was also used when he went to watch Brighton & Hove Albion play Millwall in a football match. A pitch invasion at the end of the game had a clearly jubilant Russell grinning from ear to ear as he brandished his recorder and put it over his head, ensuring that every chant could be picked up – perfect for when he could play it over and over again, sometimes even drifting off to sleep with the lager-soaked hatred churning through his brain. And when he wasn’t listening to football chants or Wagner, he would immerse himself in relevant reading material and surround himself with World War II memorabilia.

‘With Romper Stomper and preparing for that character I made a decision that it couldn’t be music, so for the first time I didn’t have a guitar with me in the hotel room that I was staying in while we were shooting the movie. I had two cassette decks, or a cassette deck and a CD player, and I had a tape of white noise, and a CD of Wagner. I had one other cassette, which was a tape I had made in England of soccer crowds and that’s all I listened to as Hando, and I could only listen to them together. I mean, like I couldn’t have Wagner on by itself. It was either Wagner and the soccer crowd or Wagner and the white noise.

‘And people would come and visit me when I was making that movie, and they were like, “Fucking weirdo. This dude’s lost it, man. He’s crazy.” But it didn’t seem to fit that while playing Hando I should be in my hotel room playing country and western songs. The whole thing about Hando – he wasn’t a punk rocker, mate, he was a skinhead: he’s a political animal. It’s got nothing to do with music. And some people get the whole thing confused. For him he knew that music, he would know that music was played at their social events or whatever. He was a self-styled Führer, a leader of men – he wasn’t going to be attracted by grubby little musicians. If he was going to listen to music he was going to listen to the pure Teutonic Wagner, not some fucking skanky punk band.

‘We went from the politics of my role to the psychology of it. I even had to paint my own set of infantry soldiers,’ he recalled.

Russell would work out regularly, desperate to bulk out for the role. His trainer, Greg Heasley, would use unorthodox methods during his training regime – which included him yelling, ‘This one’s for the Führer!’ during punch-bag sessions.

‘This guy was a massive help to me. He helped me understand the ideology behind the character I was playing,’ he told TV Weekly in 1992. ‘As I was doing bench presses in the gym, he’d be close to my ear saying, “You hate, you hate, you hate.”’

He added, ‘This was very hard for me to endure because I had to take on board all these elements, like fascism, that I abhor. I found that I was unable to sleep a lot of the time.’

The effort and preparation Russell was undertaking would be something that would be replicated on many of his future films – and directors would find an actor fuelled with ideas and a desire to add creative input.

Indeed, Wright remembered, ‘Russell’s the rudest actor I’ve ever met. He’s also the most committed. So if he wants to abuse me and then give me the most sensational take of all time, I don’t care.’

Russell took umbrage at that comment, blasting, ‘I made a movie with him called Romper Stomper, the shoot of which was 28 days. I’ve known Wright for eight weeks of my life, in 1991, OK? So he’s got no right to be giving quotes based on that.’

Whatever people thought about his processes, it was clear Russell was having a ball wrestling with a character that had some meat to him. ‘It was an amazing experience. From the day we lost our hair it was almost like an avalanche. A film is like a train: if you don’t get on and commit yourself to that journey you’ve got nothing. And you can’t pull it over like a car. You stay on till the end. With Romper Stomper it was like, as soon as you got on the train it started to fall off the rails and over the cliff. Everything went crazy. And down the bottom was Geoff, still waving the remote control. Stupid analogy, actually.’

One aspect he didn’t enjoy, however, was the explicit sex scenes, as he told Vogue Men in 1993. ‘I really resent the fact that when you’re doing a scene like that, the director will always take the female to one side and talk to her and look after her, whereas, if you’re the bloke, you’re left totally alone to cope with the situation. I also resent the notion that because you’re a male you’re trying to cop a free feel during a sex scene.

‘And don’t believe all that stuff about shooting those scenes on a closed set, because they’re never really closed. There’s usually a monitor in another room with the whole crew watching – that makes me furious. If I were the director in that situation, I would want them all sacked. Actors are not there to be pissed on.’

Russell thought it best to be a leader of his skinhead gang off-camera as much as on it. In a plan that he has since used on Gladiator and Master and Commander – films that again saw him be a leader of men – he would ensure that the hierarchy stayed the same even when the director said, ‘Cut!’ They would head out at night in full costume with their chests puffed out, goading locals with Nazi salutes.

‘Those nine actors were my gang. They were all ranked. Everybody got a hat with a rank badge, and they all had different responsibilities in the group. Someone said, “Let’s go down to the docks, to some working-class pub.” And I said, “No, we’re going to this very upwardly mobile hotel in South Yarra [in Melbourne].”

‘Suddenly, in the middle of this, there are nine skinheads playing pool. In a working-class dockside pub it wouldn’t have meant that much, but in that environment you get a quick appraisal for how much fear you can create in other people.

‘I was very worried about what I was getting into when I arrived to do Romper Stomper. The gang situation is a volatile thing. Shave nine guys’ heads, make them bond immediately, fire them to that level… To keep that under control takes a lot of effort and energy. That’s not just me – that’s Geoffrey and everybody else. Each guy was extremely brave, I reckon.

‘The production company refused to let us physically train together, because they thought it was too dangerous and they didn’t want to take the responsibility. So I organised it, unbeknown to them. I had an ex-skinhead, Greg, come in on a daily basis. He was a really nice fella. Isn’t that funny? He’d gotten through it. Maybe he didn’t need it so much any more.’

Russell was so determined to stay in wardrobe that he ended up being accosted by the police. ‘One big night, nine of us got arrested. And we’re not doing anything in particular, we’re not hanging out in skinhead hangouts, we’re just going to regular pubs. However, we don’t have any hair, and we’ve got serious 16-hole fucking Doc Martens with white laces, which signify to the police “white supremacy”. In an odd way, I was kind of weirdly comforted that these nine or ten blokes walking around together in Melbourne would immediately attract attention from the police.

‘Two constables came out and grabbed me and said, “Who do you think you are?” and all that sort of stuff.

‘I said, “Mate, I’ll tell you exactly who we are – we’re a group of actors, and we’re doing a movie where we’re playing neo-Nazi skinheads.”

‘And this sergeant of police in South Melbourne says, “Is that right? Right. Well I hope you’re a method actor, son, because you’re really going to enjoy this. Put him in the fucking cell.” At the time, I was really kind of angry, but over time you cannot help but laugh at that. That’s funny as hell.’

It was one of several times that Russell was arrested during the shoot because of what he wore. Hando was also a character he would find hard to shake off, with Wright admitting that the actor went all out during a scene near the end where he attacks a woman. ‘He’s actually attacking her. It’s hard to restrain Russell. If it’s in the script and he hits someone, he kinda hits them. He doesn’t bluff.’

Russell conceded, ‘The best day I had playing the character was the last day of filming when I got the make-up off, got in my car and drove away from the set. I no longer had to think like him or read that crap they read or sit in my room listening to Wagner while watching Triumph of the Will. That was enough punishment for anyone. I was getting really sort of depressed about it. Towards the end I thought: “Jesus Christ, what am I doing here?”’

Not surprisingly, the press had a field day with the movie’s subject matter – leaving Russell to exclaim, ‘[The] tabloid – bloody reactionary press. One thing the film does is make an audience examine their own bigotries. That’s important, especially in this country where the middle-class broom sweeps problems under the carpet.’

Several journalists were unhappy with the film, accusing it of being sympathetic to Nazi skinheads. One journalist in particular, film critic David Stratton, called for the negative to be burned.

‘Look, I’ve got respect for Dave Stratton, but he’s from another generation. His reaction says to me that it’s a very powerful film. I wouldn’t want to offend him. I just wish he could distinguish in his own mind the difference between the ideology in the film and the ideology behind it.’

A denouncement from the mayor of Fitzroy in Melbourne only added to the film’s notoriety – something that only pushed it further into cinemagoers’ minds.

One of Russell’s former band members, Raymond Eade, remembers, ‘There was this guy who used to hate Russell, thought Russell was a little smartass prick. And he said to me, “Gee, I saw your mate Russell today in his movie Romper Stomper and he’s really good.” Russell was shit for this guy, but he was very impressed.’

There was tragedy for Russell, however, when his co-star Daniel Pollock, who he also starred with in Proof, died in 1992 after throwing himself in front of a train. The actor was addicted to heroin, but Russell insisted that it had never hindered him during filming. ‘Sure, he had this addiction and it made it very hard for Daniel to keep focus, but it’s not as if he was being propped up with a stick. He was the only guy who could keep up with me in sit-ups during training.

‘I’m very sad Daniel’s not around any more to see the film’s success because he needed some sort of affirmation of his talent. But I don’t see his death as suicide; I see it as an accident. Daniel was very accident-prone.’

Russell, who would later write a song entitled ‘The Night That Davey Hit the Train’, added, ‘I was extremely angry about this [death] for a long time and I found it hard to talk about it without being vitriolic.’

For Wright, his experience working with Russell would last a lifetime. He didn’t so much revel in working with Russell, but more survive it. But he did so with so many memories of someone who believes he will be remembered for years. ‘You should never underestimate Russell,’ he said. ‘Russell may be a bull terrier but he’s a very cunning one. There’s most definitely a method to his madness as well as a madness to his method.

‘Many American actors these days fail to work hard and are more concerned with star treatment on set. Therefore, Russell may continue to outshine them for quite some time and will remain the first choice of any A-list director wishing to make “the film of the year”. He makes many of the Yankee leading men look like the under-skilled and over-precious wimps they truly are… I don’t think that anyone who worked hard and had a commitment to the end result ever had an enduringly unpleasant time with Russell Crowe. Is this symptomatic of the perfectionist? I suppose, but God – look at the result in career rewards.’