Finding closure with the parent that has passed away, while at the same time finding the inner strength to face life head on without regrets. Such is the new movie by Cameron Crowe which shouldn't quite be a coming-of-age story since Drew Baylor is a man who seems to be in his later twenties if not a shade older, but it is: situated at a point hovering between the choice to live in shame or die in shame, Drew receives the fateful call and thus commences the road to his true self. He doesn't know it, though -- all he knows because it's been hammered into his mind, by his co workers, his boss, even his ex-girlfriend, is that he lost the company almost a billion dollars. (If this doesn't seem to have shades of JERRY MCGUIRE, it does: then again, writers repeat their own stories over and over again in different montages.) Even so, his going back to his native Elizabethtown (where he's still treated as a soldier coming home from war -- all that's missing in this picture are the emblems of commendation and the parade) proves better than worse. It's the catalyst for him to reconnect with a Pollyanna of a flight attendant, Claire Colborn, whom he met on the red eye flight home. If she weren't played by Kisten Dunst, or if she were written in a lesser light, she'd come across as a nuisance, but I think Crowe liked her character and meant for her to stay for the ride when everyone else seems lost in their own worlds. Their reconnecting is one of the most well-made sequences in the movie. He makes a pity call to her while on the phone with his sister and his ex-girlfriend -- this is a man who wants to talk to someone, no matter who that may be. The ex is on her way out -- in more ways than one -- and the sister needs to let Drew know that their mother may be losing it, but Mother is just coping in her own way. What seems like hours pass as Drew and Claire talk, and talk, and then talk some more... and then decide to drive out while still on the phone and meet each other.
When they do, as they walk towards each other, it's a beautiful, breathless scene.
Claire has to be a Pollyanna; I can't see her under any other light. I know that many critics have called her "too good to be true" and "unbelievable" but I think this is due to an accrued cynicism these times have imposed on us. While Claire would seem right at home in 1941 under the guise of Barbara Stanwyck as the role she played in BALL OF FIRE, I still think the role is a strong one and true to today's sensibilities. She doesn't care about his failures. She sees Drew for whom he is, and this is all that matters to her. Having traveled all over the place I can relate to her, because I've met snippets of her in the most unusual of places. (Now, if only the stewardess aboard AA Flight 2051 bound to Dominican Republic, an insignificant witch named Teresa, who "attended" to me (the term is used extremely loosely) when my own father died in September of 2005 had been less of a battle-axe, my story would be that of Drew -- though I didn't lose anyone a billion dollars, just in case.) Her appearance in the movie is meant to be Drew's guide through his own tortuous road to self-discovery. Which of course, brings me to the second overwhelming sequence in the film, the one that closes it. After his mother's emotional eulogy, he embarks on a road trip, guided by a recording of Claire as she walks him through the little nooks and crannies of Americana, gives him only five minutes to mourn his failure, and has him truly reconnect with his own father. Seen through intercuts of a young Drew and Mitch Baylor as he treks across the land to meet Claire, it's a tour de force of one man's pain opening up to achieve solace and a rebirth.
Orlando Bloom breaks away from his roles in LORD OF THE RINGS, and TROY, bringing a vulnerable perspective on a role that by a more assured actor might have seemed forced. His conversation with his father's ashes are a moment that any one of us could have experienced; it to me was a sequence rich in poignancy and spoke to my own experience in relating to my father's death. Susan Sarandon brings in a new meaning for the word mourning: with realism, hers is beautiful, dignified suffering. Judy Greer, Alec Baldwin, and Jessica Biel fill in small roles, and most noteworthy of the three is Greer who continues to bring her own quirks into her small roles.
ELIZABETHTOWN, ultimately, fails a little here and there whenever it goes into its excesses of Americana (the quirky relatives) and rock n' roll. This looks to be a mode of making a two hour-plus movie, but only diverts the film from its main intent. Other than that, it's a good film, overlong in execution, though once those last twenty minutes arrive, they will be worth it.
Dedicated to my father, Zacarias N. Vargas (1932 - 2005).
When they do, as they walk towards each other, it's a beautiful, breathless scene.
Claire has to be a Pollyanna; I can't see her under any other light. I know that many critics have called her "too good to be true" and "unbelievable" but I think this is due to an accrued cynicism these times have imposed on us. While Claire would seem right at home in 1941 under the guise of Barbara Stanwyck as the role she played in BALL OF FIRE, I still think the role is a strong one and true to today's sensibilities. She doesn't care about his failures. She sees Drew for whom he is, and this is all that matters to her. Having traveled all over the place I can relate to her, because I've met snippets of her in the most unusual of places. (Now, if only the stewardess aboard AA Flight 2051 bound to Dominican Republic, an insignificant witch named Teresa, who "attended" to me (the term is used extremely loosely) when my own father died in September of 2005 had been less of a battle-axe, my story would be that of Drew -- though I didn't lose anyone a billion dollars, just in case.) Her appearance in the movie is meant to be Drew's guide through his own tortuous road to self-discovery. Which of course, brings me to the second overwhelming sequence in the film, the one that closes it. After his mother's emotional eulogy, he embarks on a road trip, guided by a recording of Claire as she walks him through the little nooks and crannies of Americana, gives him only five minutes to mourn his failure, and has him truly reconnect with his own father. Seen through intercuts of a young Drew and Mitch Baylor as he treks across the land to meet Claire, it's a tour de force of one man's pain opening up to achieve solace and a rebirth.
Orlando Bloom breaks away from his roles in LORD OF THE RINGS, and TROY, bringing a vulnerable perspective on a role that by a more assured actor might have seemed forced. His conversation with his father's ashes are a moment that any one of us could have experienced; it to me was a sequence rich in poignancy and spoke to my own experience in relating to my father's death. Susan Sarandon brings in a new meaning for the word mourning: with realism, hers is beautiful, dignified suffering. Judy Greer, Alec Baldwin, and Jessica Biel fill in small roles, and most noteworthy of the three is Greer who continues to bring her own quirks into her small roles.
ELIZABETHTOWN, ultimately, fails a little here and there whenever it goes into its excesses of Americana (the quirky relatives) and rock n' roll. This looks to be a mode of making a two hour-plus movie, but only diverts the film from its main intent. Other than that, it's a good film, overlong in execution, though once those last twenty minutes arrive, they will be worth it.
Dedicated to my father, Zacarias N. Vargas (1932 - 2005).