Elizabethtown

In case you didn't catch my stellar article on Elizabethtown (hah) in the Daily Californian last week, here's an approximation of the first review I've published at Cal:


A construction worker peers out into the TV audience, and suddenly the pile of screaming kids is silenced. He points to a building and asks, “If I blow this house up, will you promise to listen to your parents and do what they say?” In wide eyed anticipation of the explosion, the children nod obediently at the screen. Somehow satisfied, the construction worker sets off the detonator, and the children’s shrieks are quelled for the rest of the day.

It’s part of a video labeled “How to Listen” – Drew Baylor in Elizabethtown uses it against the seemingly relentless howl of his younger relatives. This scene has little to do with what the film is about, but it does show off some of the story’s brand of humor. To go into what the movie is actually about:
Elizabethtown approaches its audience like a few of director/writer Cameron Crowe’s other films, like Jerry Maguire and Almost Famous: a story that’s a little about family, a little about work, all wrapped up in a cozy romantic story. Some critics have said that Crowe over-packs his movies, and true, Elizabethtown is pretty full, originally running at around two and a half hours (it’s now down to 117 minutes). But this film isn’t too inclusive. The mixture works well with each element rubbing elbows nicely with each other.

Unfortunately, though Elizabethtown focuses most on the love story, that ends up being the weak point. The involved parties, Claire Colburn (Kirstin Dunst) and Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom) are likable but the chemistry is lacking. Claire earns her keep in the film by being playful and charming, but I can’t tell what she sees in Drew other than the fact that he’s played by Orlando Bloom – which is probably why they casted Orlando Bloom.
The film opens with Drew’s fiasco at work. When fired from his job as a shoe designer at the Nike-esque Mercury company, Drew Baylor decides to create – a designer suicide machine out of a stationary bike, duct tape, and a knife. This scene again uses the film’s sense of humor well. Drew’s life is saved from certain exercise peril by a call that informs him of his father’s death.

The call propels Drew back to the world of the living, and also into the world of his father’s hometown Elizabethtown, Kentucky to settle funeral matters. On the way, flight attendant Claire Colburn enters his life, and later they have one of those all nighter conversations. Their romance is full of truly entertaining dialogue, but Claire seems to do all of the legwork for the relationship and Drew just seems to go along with it. Is Drew compatible with Claire? Probably not, though we’re meant to be happy when they end up together. Crowe did the love story better in Almost Famous, where the lead doesn’t get the girl.

Furthermore, the climax fell short in that it seemed more focused on the idea of a quirky fiasco of a funeral than focused on being true to the characters and the story. Events like a comedy routine, a tap dance, a flaming paper mache bird, and the resulting fire sprinklers, each probably worked better on the page of the screenplay than in front of the camera.

Thankfully the colorful Kentucky cast works. The Elizabethtown relatives keep the audience in laughs. They are of a town that worships Colonel Sanders and his contribution to KFCs worldwide. Honorary ketchup packets are left at his gravestone. The Southern cast is written with a pleasant dose of affection, and they play a big part in winning the viewers over. Through it all, audience members will be leaving the theatre smiling and thankful for the humor and heart the film offers, despite the shortcomings.