ELIZABETHTOWN

REVIEWED BY CHARITY BISHOP

Our rating: 4 out of 5

Because of: brief strong language, sexual dialogue

Rated:

The pain of loss and the joy of living. This is pretty much the crux of Elizabethtown, a surprisingly poignant romantic comedy centered around morbid things.

"I'm fine." It's what Drew (Orlando Bloom) tells everyone he meets. His coworkers. His girlfriend. The idle man on the street. "I'm fine." But he's not fine. Two months ago, he was on top of the world, the best in the industry. He designed a shoe that would change the face of sales forever. It was a living dream he saw become reality. "Recalled." That's what the boxes say. "... it makes you want to go barefoot again." That's what the tabloids say. Drew's career is, in short, toast. His boss is trying not to cry over the "nearly a billion" dollars his company is about to lose. It'll be about a week before the scandal is plastered all over Fortune Magazine. Somebody has to become the scapegoat, and all the fingers are pointing at Drew.

After being faced with the abstract humiliation of utter and total failure, Drew goes home, takes all his possessions out into the street, and rigs up his electric exercise bike to stab him in the chest. Just as he's about to switch it on, the phone call comes. His emotional basket case sister Heather (Judy Greer) is on the phone with bad news. Their dad went on vacation back to Kentucky to see his family, and died of a heart attack. Heather cannot go get him, and their mother (Susan Sarandon) is in the middle of a midlife crisis. It's up to Drew to be the man of the family and travel halfway across the nation with his dad's blue suit in tow, to save the day, represent the family at the memorial service, and bring back his father's ashes.

One of only two passengers on the airplane, Drew catches the attention of perky flight attendant Claire (Kirsten Dunst). Her chatter unearths something deeper, and she encourages him to call her if he needs anything, or gets lost. Faced with his overwhelming in-laws and a succession of relatives he has never met, Drew decides one night, after trying to call everyone else without success, to call. What begins as a "Hello" accumulates in an eight hour phone conversation about life. Claire soon begins to seep into his world like peppermint from a tea bag. She challenges him to accept failure and experience life. In the meantime, he must contend with increasing emotions, troublesome relatives, and the recent loss of his dad.

I've been there. The phone call late at night. The funeral arrangements. Awkward conversation with people you've never met or haven't seen in fifteen years. If you have ever experienced loss, you're going to feel for Drew and his family. There is a humorous side to the film and its mildly morbid stance on death, but there are also some lingering gems of truth. The plot seems a little slow after Drew reaches family territory, but picks up when Claire returns to the picture and becomes a very touching little statement about learning to cope with loss, whether it's the death of a loved one or a massive failure. It's the kind of movie that leaves you feeling thoughtful as you exit the theatre.

What really works here are the characters. Drew is something of a quirky guy, but it's Claire that deserves all the credit for making his life wonderful. I would love to be a girl like her, to search out ways in which to enrich the lives of others. She genuinely cares about people, and their relationship is one that is more about understanding and sweetness than physical attraction. The movie has its faults, but for the most part it's memorable and charming. Among these flaws are two uses of the f-word, a handful of s*** and the occasional, "Oh my God!"

There is a somewhat ambiguous sequence in the film that leaves the audience wondering if Drew and Claire slept together. They passionately kiss, and Drew says, "Your boyfriend is fortunate -- all we did was kiss." The next morning we see her sneaking around his hotel room, discreetly trying to wake him up "by accident." His mom's comedic speech at the memorial turns a little raunchy when she mentions the neighbor's sexual response to a hug. I think pretty much anyone can identify with the characters on some level, whether through loss or a family reunion, complete with screaming kids and bear hugs from uncles you don't remember. For the writer/director, it was a personal journey. It's also a personal journey for the audience.