In the
history of marital discord in the movies, has there ever been a blander
conflict than the one between firefighter Kirk Cameron and his goodly wife Erin
Bethea in the dismal Christian-themed melodrama Fireproof? Granted, not every couple can
shout boozy insults like George and Martha in Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?, but one with real
problems—be it adultery, poverty, substance abuse, value systems,
whatever—should be a minimum requirement. Basically, the problem with
Cameron and Bethea's marriage is that he's pissed off because his wife actually
expects something from him, like extending a little kindness to her or washing
a dish every once in awhile. He's like a gardener who never supplies a drop of
water to a plant, then rages petulantly when the plant wilts. And when Cameron
gets in a rage, out comes the baseball bat.
Fireproof gets hung up in a lot of Promise
Keepers hoo-hah about reaffirming marriage as a covenant with God rather than a
contract filed at City Hall, but that's just a cover for two fundamental points
about the movie: Cameron acts like a childish jerk, even in the reconciliation
phase, and the underlying reason is that he—and the movie—hates
women. When he consults his father (Harris Malcom) and his mother (Phyllis
Malcom) about his failing marriage, he gets so enraged by her attempt to give
advice that he kicks her out of the room and consults his father directly. Dad
advises him to hold off on the divorce and gives him a book called "The Love
Dare," a 40-day, baby steps program to win back his wife. Small gestures, like
holding his tongue when Bethea makes him angry or doing something nice for her,
eventually give way to more grandiose gestures until he presumably weakens her
defenses.
As in most
Christian narratives, the hero starts out agnostic and winds up embracing the
Lord with full-on born-again fervor, but the absence of God has no evident
bearing on what's wrong with this marriage. Had the film not included sequences
of Cameron saving people in the line of duty—an occupation that's useful
in supplying many cheesy metaphors—he would come off as an irredeemable
villain, quick to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. (A scene
where he wallops his computer—source of his obsession with boats and
Internet pornography—with a bat is a marvel of unintentional hilarity.)
The best he can do on Day 40+ is bring his ailing wife a damp cloth and a bag
full of Chik-Fil-A. What a catch!