October 17, 2005

I returned to Elizabethtown this weekend, surrounded by a real audience, in front of Cameron Crowe's "final cut," contributing my one -millionth of the film's opening weekend box office.

I wish I could say that the experience helped me see the light and realize that I had misjudged the film. I did not. But what was clearer this time around is just what went so terribly wrong. And the good news there is that it is not inherently fatal to the artist as a 48-year-old man.

Though I am sure this was not what Cameron Crowe was thinking as he wrote his script, what was as clear to me as the warm sun hitting my face as I exited the theater was that by writing a story about the week of a parent's death and choosing to have his central character, the son, to be a receptor to everything - which is quite a realistic pose for someone who has just lost a parent - he created a core for his movie that was undramatically, impossibly, disastrously, passive.

It is far too easy to lay the blame at Orlando Bloom's feet. He was just playing what was written. And while Crowe is known for writing quirky, undecided characters, this is the first major one I can recall who was so unfocused, even in the context of the film.

In Fast Times At Ridgemont High, I have always found the desperate but passive Stacy Hamilton a weak link in the film, however realistic her behavior. Fortunately, the movie is loaded to the gills with people who take action, from Spicoli, to Mr. Hand, to Mike Damone, and even masturbating Brad Hamilton.

I can't remember The Wild Life very well, to be honest.

In Say Anything, Lloyd Dobler is a true obsessive, knowing exactly what he wanted and crawling through glass to get it, Diane learning to be fearless about her passion in the process.

Singles is loaded with neurotics, but they are anything but passive. Janet and Steve are both bumbling in their efforts, but their passions are well on display, they only have to figure out what the hell they are doing.

Jerry Maguire is the story of a man with everything stripped away, who survives his crisis of that moment with the love of a good woman, and learns that he can be more than a machine, he can be a relatively complete human being.

Almost Famous is the story of a kid who does everything he has to do in order to do what he has to.

Vanilla Sky, which is based on another writer's film, is really the least Crowe… and is based in a psychological dysfunction that allows some interesting explorations, but is not really about a character moving through a simple, challenging life adjustment… Crowe's essential theme in his films.

And that brings us to Elizabethtown. And if you are

SPOILER CHALLENGED

… you might want to check out about now.

Elizabethtown is the story of a young man who is faced with an unclear, intangible, nearly incomprehensible embarrassment. But while he is driven to act out a suicide attempt, the kitschy format for which indicates absolute non-commitment, he finds his father is dead. How does he feel about his father? We don't know. But more importantly, he doesn't know.

But right there, we are already in big trouble in this movie. A 30something male loses his father. Isn't that enough?

And if he has had this terrible failure at work that will soon be nationally exposed, what is the point of killing his father if his father's acceptance or lack of acceptance or whatever the father's response to the failure would be is not a central theme of the film?

It is not hard to understand a crushing sense of failure at a young age after being involved with an opportunity that was beyond one's control and the depression that can follow. A horrible moment, no doubt. Suicide - though probably not at Orlando Bloom's film age - might well be considered… though again, Bloom's comedy routine around his own potential death defuses whatever reality was being attempted there.

It's remarkable, really, that in the entire film, Bloom's character never confronts the basic issue of losing his father before his father could find out what "a failure he was." Is he relieved? Would his father have had the comforting words? What was the balance between his parents? This kid clearly has the confidence to allow himself the artistic arrogance that led to his downfall. Was that his mom's influence - even though she is busy regretting that she never learned to laugh enough with her husband - or his dad's?

One gets the feeling that these questions would be answered in the film if Crowe was not so busy trying to make the story more expansive. Dead dad is not enough. A billion dollar loss for his company is not enough. We need to go see the wacky family in Elizabethtown. And if you ever thought that mom and sis and wacky family could offer the insights that Orlando/Drew needs, nope. You need a love interest.

And again, in Elizabethtown Crowe draws a love interest that is all full of quips and quirks, but very little reality. She is virtually a ghost lover for most of the film, who shows up like an angel, but whose feet never touch the ground. Even when they have sex - did they have sex when she spends the night? - we don't feel the connection. Kirsten Dunst's Claire Coburn (C.C... hmmmm...) is really Drew's Mr Jordan, guiding him through this rough patch before he can return to earth, lessons learned. She is very aggressive about being near him, yet she is constantly reminding him that he has told her that they are not right for each other and that she already has a boyfriend. (He tells her that he has a girlfriend, though we know from the start that he does not and that she wasn't much of a girlfriend to begin with… another embarrassing self-delusion.)

She is constantly popping up in places like some sort of blonde pixie, never really focused on anything. What is she up to? It seems she wants him. But if that is really her purpose in the narrative, she is as blurry as Drew.

And again, the movie is a stunning work of bouncing from intimate to complete disconnected.

When Drew finally decides that his father should be buried in the green grass of Kentucky, he is too late, again failing. Is this the failure that breaks the camel's emotional back? No. It's just another plot moment. He's suicidal about work, his father is dead… and he's still not ready to break down.

Moreover, the issue of his father's dead body… where are the discussions with his mother about this? She sends him to retrieve the body and bring it home. He not only doesn't do that, he cremates the body in Elizabethtown without his mom or sister having had the chance to see him… or even to offer that there can be an issue, as there is for many people, with a body being gone before having a chance to say goodbye. It's as though his mother and sister don't exist in his decision-making. There isn't even a conversation about it.

And even after cremation, it might be ok for Drew to spread dad's ashes across the country… but shouldn't he have a conversation about it with his mother first? Isn't it rather rude for Drew, whose relationship is never presented as particularly special with his father, to just decide for himself what to do with the ashes, on his own personal trip, without involving the other immediate family?

Frustrating.

The shoe company situation is a story. The dead father in Kentucky is a story. Why can't Crowe just tell one of the stories? Why does it feel like the stories never intersect in a real way?

Though I don't want to be one of those idiots who tells the filmmaker what he should have done, I'll risk it here. The dead father and the road trip would have been plenty. Obviously, the road trip would be longer. But Claire's map, which claims he can make the cross-country trip in 42 hours, takes no time for sleep. Ultimately, the whole thing is about bringing him to her, which puts her back in the stalker category. Nonetheless, a journey into himself by allowing a cross-country trip to take him out of his head is a compelling premise. Why does it feel like an afterthought here?

Yes. Drew's ambivalence in light of his father's death is a realistic portrayal of the general daze that one is often in when losing a parent and being surrounded by loved ones. No one can say the right thing. Nothing tastes right. There are no quick answers.

But the movie won't just let us feel that.

Having one of those 6-hour phone calls with a virtual stranger is really sweet and fun and sexy and often is better on the phone. And I guess that when you feel like you can't talk openly to anyone you really love and have history with, it is a great relief, even in the face of a tough time.

But the movie isn't honest about the crashing return to earth when the call is over and you are still so alone.

The wacky family that is so different from the life you has as the son of their prodigal son is a great opportunity.

But the movie doesn't really help Drew see his dad through new eyes and as a result, see himself through new eyes... he needs to go on that road trip and have that relationship, etc.

The big problems with Elizabethtown are that it is trying too hard and the many small problems with Elizabethtown are that it is trying too hard.

And at the heart of that remains the simple screenwriting problem… a passive protagonist is a guaranteed disaster.

Interestingly, Crowe is not the first filmmaker to fall into this problem with Orlando Bloom, though Ridley Scott used him to play ambivalence that eventually got to a driving passion in Kingdom of Heaven. That is why, in retrospect, I think the third act of the film works so much better than the first two acts. Perhaps there will be more there in the longer version when it finally turns up on DVD next year.

I guess the one recent example of making it work was Sideways. But the movie really lingered in Miles' ambivalence. The movie was about him as the immoveable object and life as the unstoppable force. He was so buried in his pain and disappointment, that there was no way he was ever going to expose his heart again. And then he does. And he gets hurt in doing so, though it was his own fault. But in the end, he gets back on the horse… he is ready to risk his heart again.

In In America, the central figure of the father, played by Paddy Considine, was not a favorite character for some people. Why? I think it was because he was so passive. But he was the center of a story about moving past the pain and he spends the entire film in mourning, even though his family is moving forward. And again, in the end, with the survival of his fourth born child, he finally allows himself to live again.

Elizabethtown doesn't allow itself to wallow in Drew's pain, though the movie is clearly about that pain. This movie is like a friend who won't shut up for a second because if he/she ever does, the pain of something going on in their lives will overwhelm them. But the great moments of drama in those situations is when the quiet finally comes. And even more than when the wave of pain overwhelms that person, it is when that person realizes that the pain will not be the end of them that tears can flow freely and with love.

Truth is, Cameron Crowe is a wonderful filmmaker, but the depth of his films is a deep as romance can take us. Death is a whole new ballgame. And I am hopeful that he will come back to it again, without the big budget (for a drama) and the can't miss soundtrack and the endless concessions to safety that he indulges in here.

Fifteen million dollars… a fifty day schedule… all the limitations of a small film, but all the skills and gifts of Cameron Crowe. I would pay to see that film in a second.

You don't have to lose it all to learn from loss. You don't need to find a pixie who distracts you from every void you are feeling even before you know you are feeling it.

The failure of Elizabethtown, for me, is that Cameron Crowe just didn't trust himself. He is, obviously, Drew… ambivalent, unsure of where to step next, a bit disconnected. And as he describes Drew, Crowe is also a kind of genius. His fearlessness brought him here. But Elizabethtown is a fearful work.

Even the trailer bait shot of the coffin being dropped instead of lowered… in the film, the body has already been cremated… there is nothing in there… so there is no laughter through tears, because who cries for a giant casket with a suit in it? Who cares how it is lowered? Your loved one is not in there!

The Crowe I love would have a body in the casket. And Lloyd Dobler would be trying and failing to smoothly lower the casket. And Janet Livermore would have seduced and slept with Chuck Hasboro - of Chuck & Cindy fame - and suffered endless guilt afterwards. And Elaine Miller would have known exactly what her son was going through and given him the tough talk in a way that would leave him reeling for hours and then grateful for a lifetime.

It was nice, however, to see Spicoli in Kentucky with a son that he really loved and a chance to relive the great moment that never quite happened.

Let's hope that Crowe will do the same in revisiting similarly tough material someday.

E-ME.