Dir.: Cameron Crowe

"Let's deflower the kid."

Almost Famous is Cameron Crowe's pet project, a heavily autobiographical tale based on his mid-'70s adventure as a fresh-faced teenage journalist on tour with the Allman Brothers, which produced a Rolling Stone cover story that kick-started his career as a rock writer and, eventually, as a filmmaker.



The average film gives me 90-or-so minutes of mindless satisfaction. I sit in darkness, munching on some snacks staring straight ahead at the screen. Chomp, blink, sip, stare. Lots of films entertain me, but few entertain and inspire me. Almost Famous was, for me, one of the first films to accomplish both. It's an honest and touching look at many big themes such as family, friendship, love and fame, any one of which could have made for a great film. Yet, like the large cast, Crowe managed to give balance to all without shorting anyone, including the audience.

Almost Famous' opening credits are dazzling. A hand writes (just as our upcoming boyhood hero) furiously into a notebook. Then it takes us to 1969, William Miller (played by Michael Angarano as the young William) and his mother Elaine (Frances McDormand) are walking home from the movies after seeing To Kill a Mockingbird (on the marquee it reads Don't Look Back, D.A. Pennebaker's rockumentary on Bob Dylan and Truffaut's Stolen Kisses, which was a major influence on this for autobiographical reasons - Truffaut based himself as Antoine Doinel as played by Jean-Pierre Leaud).

No doubt Elaine plants these ideas of becoming an honest lawyer into William's head. She is a very hard woman, sweet under a rough exterior, a vegetarian college professor who forbids rock music into the house. William's sister Anita (well played by Zooey Deschannel) sneaks Simon & Garfunkel's Bookends album under her coat but Elaine catches her. She moves out to become a stewardess using Simon & Garfunkel's "America" to explain her reasons why and leaving William all her albums. (Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, Dylan's Blonde On Blonde, Rolling Stones' Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, Led Zeppelin's II, Joni Mitchell, etc. and most importantly, The Who's Tommy, with a note: "play Tommy with a burning candle and you will see your future"). End of prologue.

It is 1973, William is 15 and a senior, he's not well-liked at school, all he does is write and listen to rock music. He meets his hero, Lester Bangs (played to perfection by Philip Seymour Hoffman). Bangs is a real-life character - he was editor of Creem magazine and Crowe's real-life hero. His knowledge scattered through the film is worth the price of admission alone. His rants in the radio station, cafe, on the sidewalk and particularly end monologue in his home (the "uncool" one) are all some of the best dialogue and knowledge I've ever heard of. Anyway, Miller sends Bangs some of his writing journalism and Bangs puts him on assignment. He has to go to a Black Sabbath concert and write about it. He is to be paid $35.

He goes to the concert with strong discouragement from his mother ("Don't Do Drugs" is her constant motto) and meets a group of groupies ("a group of groupies", ha!) played by Bijou Philips, Anna Paquin, Fairuza Balk and most importantly Kate Hudson, as Penny Lane. Penny revolutionized the role of the groupie. She calls them "Band Aides", as they're there for the music and not for the sex with someone who's famous. Miller can't get into backstage with the groupies - a huge guard won't let him - so he gets backstage with Stillwater, a rising rock band. They are: audacious, arrogant lead singer Jeff Bebe (Jason Lee), drummer Ed Vallencourt (John Fedevich) and bassist Larry Fellows (Mark Kozelek) - both real-life musicians, not really actors - and finally the star, Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup). He is, as Jeff describes him, "the guitarist with mystique" and the only who really befriends Miller.

Rolling Stone then hires Miller to write a piece on Stillwater on the road. He is to be paid $1000, and have a trip not to forget. He is only to be gone for a few days and not miss one test at school but as it turns out, he stays longer involuntarily and misses graduation. The trip changes his life. He loses his virginity in a tastefully done, mirage-like threesome, falls hard in love with Penny and really hurts when married Russell uses her for sex. This develops an interesting love triangle: there's Miller who is affectionate for Hammond but falls for the first time in love for Penny who is his really around his own age, Lane, confused, is sweet and nice to Miller but cares for Hammond whom she thinks she's in love with. There are some flashes of the two in genuine love but nothing comes into fruitation. Russell, however, with his hard exterior, looks like he cares for Penny but also sells her for $50 and a case of beer in a poker game, to which she gracefully replies, in an absolutely heartbreaking scene, "what kind of beer?" It was Heineken.

The band, the Band Aids, William and his dysfunctional family, the staff at Rolling Stone - there's a large cast to keep track of. With so many characters and so many areas of potential conflict, it would have been easy to gloss over certain aspects or only go half way with the entire film. Instead, everyone is given an equal voice and the opportunity to show growth. This is an ensemble cast where everyone shows up. While Hudson, Fugit and Crudup may be standouts, that's not to mean that the rest of the cast slacks off. Besides McDormand, Hoffman, and Hudson's fellow groupies, there's also fine work by Noah Taylor as Stillwater's manager, and SNL's Jimmy Fallon, unrecognisable in a beard, as the smarmy half-manager that comes into the picture when Stillwater gets a little success.

Being a CC film, one of the its primal strengths hinges on its use of some absolutely incredible music. The soundtrack periodically drifts in and out, flooding scenes with heartfelt emotion and feeling. Many of the film's best moments are marked by a silence accompanied by several moving rock classics (the bus scene, at the sound of Elton John's "Tiny Dancer", being my favourite). Crowe knows that something special was going on in the '70s and he takes every opportunity to show his love for the period. Almost Famous is as much about music and rock as it is about growing up. Luckily, it manages to succeed without being cheesy or melodramatic. Instead, it's filled with honest moments of love and frustration as we watch a young, talented man slowly coming to terms with his youth and becoming the man who'd eventually go far and accomplish great things - including writing and directing Almost famous

Using personal and professional discovery as a frame for his film, Crowe shows a maturity of his own. Several of his prior films, such as Say Anything... and Jerry Maguire, have touched on similar themes but neither has quite the same 'real' feeling Almost Famous has. This is, of course, due to how autobiographical the film is, although I'm sure many things were the product of his imagination (I'm not sure if the fact that he might have lost his virginity with three groupies makes me admire him more or envy him to death). By making such a personal film and getting his life out and onto the screen, Crowe appears ready to tackle subjects outside his safe zone. After watching Almost Famous for the fourth time, I'm once again inspired to politely nod at my nay-sayers and hit the road (symbolically speaking) to chase my dreams and challenge my own safety zone.

To put it simply, Almost Famous made me want to live in the '70s. Just like Truffaut and Kubrick's films make me dream about the '60s. It made me want to listen to old Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath albums that were now just collecting dust. Crowe has accomplished something enormously special here, something that can't be undervalued. He's told a story that is both simple and complex, fictional, but believable, funny, yet heartbreaking. Will always remain one of my favourite films from one of my favourite filmmakers.

"If you think that Mick Jagger will still be doing the whole rock star thing at age fifty, well, then, you are sorely, sorely mistaken."

D.C.: "Lloyd, why do you have to be like this?
Lloyd: 'Cause I'm a guy. I have pride.
Corey: You're not a guy.
Lloyd: I am.
Corey: No. The world is full of guys. Be a man. Don't be a guy."



When you think of '80s "teen romantic comedies" you think of John Hughes. You think of Molly Ringwald, you think of The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Cameron Crowe's Say Anything..., his first foray behind the camera, is not only the best film of that lot and an incredibly impressive début, but it's also stood the test of time and become one of the best films about young love EVER made.

The film is set during that pivotal summer between high school graduation and (what usually seems like) the emergence of the "real world". It opens with Lloyd Dobler (John Cusack) wrestling with the idea of asking Diane Court (Ione Skye) out. But Lloyd doesn't really know Diane all that well; in fact, nobody really does. Diane, known as a "brain", has kept to herself during her high school years - eschewing social activities in favour of long hours of homework and studying. Lloyd decides to give it a shot anyway, though, and is pleasantly surprised when Diane accepts. He asks her to a blow-out graduation party given by the same 20-something guy every year, and while most of the attendees recognize her, she finds that she knows very few people there. Lloyd, on the other hand, appears to be a big-man-on-campus type, with virtually every guest saying hello to him. Although Lloyd and Diane seem an unlikely couple, the two begin a summer relationship everyone assumes is doomed to fail - most notably her father (John Mahoney).

Say Anything... was made nineteen years ago, and it holds up incredibly well - all the more surprising given that it could have wound up resembling a Michael Jackson video. A lot of films from that time period (the late '80s, early '90s) have aged quite poorly, due mostly to overindulgence in everything that was showy and loud about that era. But Say Anything..., like Roman Holiday and all those great romances that came before it, has a certain timeless quality about it. The time and place of the film takes a back-seat to the characters and their motivations - the key difference between a good romantic film and a bad one. By the time the end credits begin to roll, Lloyd and Diane have become real characters to us; and as such, we want desperately for their love affair to succeed.

This is due in no small part to the lead performances by Cusack and Skye. Unlike contemporary counterparts like Freddie Prinze Jr. and Rachael Leigh Cook, these two young actors actually had a huge amount of talent and charisma. Their chemistry together is undeniable, which only encourages us to root for them. As Lloyd, Cusack gets the chance to be as charming as ever - the sort of guy most people have known at some point in their lives. And Skye takes what could have been a standoffish sort of person and makes her human (and genuinely likable). The supporting cast is comprised of an eclectic bunch, including Joan Cusack, Lili Taylor, Eric Stoltz, and frequent Cusack collaborator Jeremy Piven.

Many people criticize Crowe for being a stronger writer and a weaker director. I've said it once and I'll say it again: I don't think that's true. I think he's really strong in both areas. Say Anything... is by no means an elaborate production, it has no need for that. This film is incredibly realistic and Crowe shot it as such. The editing is perfectly suitable and gives you a great feel of the atmosphere the story presents. Crowe sets the film at a great pace and really captures what the story is all about: teenagehood, relationships and true love with comic and conflict, all sealed with an amazing amount of heart that feels right; not manipulated or sappy.

His direction is fine, but of course, there is his fabulous story and script. Most of us know that Crowe is a superb writer (sort of a pre-requisite since he wrote for "Rolling Stone"), and this wasn't his first time writing a script (adapting his book Fast Times at Ridgemont High in 1982 and co-writing The Wild Life two years later). Crowe creates such rich material out of what is a clichéd plotline: boy doesn't know girl, boy has crush on girl, boy wants to win girl's heart, wins heart, conflicts ensue all over. It's amazing how he takes something similar to this and makes it feel like such a fresh, new idea. Say Anything... blazes with a load of originality and leaves similar films of this nature in the dust.

It's how Crowe structures his story, his dialogue and his characters that makes it all shine and come together. He avoids a lot of stereotypes and clichés and gives us the unexpected. When you hear about the plot and then see the film, it's never how you thought it would be. The story may mostly take place after high school, but you're still dealing with teenagers no matter how you look at it. The dialogue is very realistic - no one says" Honest to blog" - and the words that come out of the mouths of every character really does seem like something real people would say. Lloyd's nervous words, Diane's cheerfulness, dad's protective guidance, graduation, the party scene... you name it, and you wouldn't be surprised if any of this happened to someone and those words were said. It's all very subtle and all very natural, which usually means honesty.

Music always plays a predominant role in supplementing the emotions in Crowe's films, and this is where it all started, so it's no exception. It is difficult to recall this tale without immediately remembering the image of Lloyd holding the boom box above his head outside of Diane's window. Through the lyrics and context of Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes", Crowe has Lloyd express so much without uttering a word. The soundtrack also contains effective tracks by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Aerosmith, Soundgarden, Depeche Mode, Fishbone, and The Replacements, which perfectly mesh with the images presented.

Say Anything... is a quintessential romantic modern classic. It succeeds where every single unsuccessful "teen" film failed. It's made of intelligence, wit, honesty and truth, being the work of someone who appreciates - and so many other miss - the fact that there's enough drama and comedy in human-scale relationships - especially among the raging hormone teen set - that you don't need to exaggerate in order to have an entertaining film. Low-key funny, elegant and touching, Say Anything... is the prototype for successful youth-oriented romantic comedy. This is it: what all the others wanted to be.

"I am out here for you. You don't know what it's like to be ME out here for YOU. It is an up-at-dawn, pride-swallowing siege that I will never fully tell you about, OK?"



There's a scene in a recent episode of "How I Met Your Mother" in which Ted explains the reason why Marshall didn't enjoy Jerry Maguire by saying he doesn't have a heart. Now, I apologize to those who aren't familiar with the show - which is awesome, btw - but that's also the best thing I can think of to say to anyone who can't seem to enjoy this film. Those people should, by law, be forbidden to use the expressions "show me the money!" and "you had me at hello." whenever they're trying to make a '90s cultural reference.

At the time of its release, which was twelve years ago, Jerry Maguire received mostly positive reviews. It's easy to understand why: it's funny, cute, harmless, and has an iconic, much beloved actor in the lead role. The first time I watched it I found it to be all those things, nothing more. But, growing up and getting to know the work of Cameron Crowe, it started to grow on me, eventually becoming a sort of "guilty favourite", a film I'm always ready to defend against anyone. This is after all perhaps the best example of why the world loves Tom Cruise in spite of all the craziness. The Scientology bullshit, his relationships, jumping on the couch on Oprah, all that has absolutely nothing to do with his work as an actor. This film did its best to exploit the Tom Cruise we still pay money to see in theatres. No one can really think of Tom Cruise, the actor and not remember Jerry Maguire.

He's a fast-talking, hard-working young sports agent who works side-by-side with a group of young people at SMI (Sports Management International) in Los Angeles. During a tumultuous exposition-laded, terrifically edited opening credit sequence - note to "serious" filmmakers: see, they're good for something, as opposed to just starting the film with no sense of focus or pace - Jerry has a dark night of the soul, sits in front of his computer and writes a "mission statement" ("not a memo") pleading to shift the focus of the business from the bottom line to hands-on managing of fewer clients per agent.

The memo brings public cheers from his colleagues, most of whom remain privately cynical. Is there room for the truth? Apparently not; Maguire is fired by his boss, whose unremorseful callousness will make him the vague focus of Jerry's professional redemption. Stalking out of the office with only a goldfish and humble accountant Dorothy Boyd (Renée Zellweger), Jerry pours his not-immodest energy into two clients, clean-cut college quarterback Frank Cushman (Jerry O'Connell) and eccentric Arizona Cardinals wide receiver Rod Tidwell (Cuba Gooding Jr.). When his shepherding of Cushman hits an unexpected obstacle, it costs Jerry his relationship with hard-as-nails NFL publicist Avery Bishop (Kelly Preston) and opens the door to the awkward but inevitable courtship of Dorothy, whose young son Ray (Jonathan Lipnicki) has taken an immediate liking to the agent - who is surprised and touched by his own seemingly endless tolerance for the kid.

The climaxes of the film, such as they are, involve redemption: Rod learns the importance of singing for his supper in a hysterical send-up of celebrations that was reportedly choreographed by Paula Abdul; Dorothy's sceptical, wise-cracking sister Laurel (Bonnie Hunt) makes her peace with their relationship ("If you fuck this up, I'll kill you," she tells Jerry); But most significantly, Jerry Maguire has the courage of not making its convictions about a revenge against SMI, opting instead for a graceful story arc of discovery and growth followed by an unabashedly sweet fade-out that makes extraordinarily effective use of Bob Dylan's classic "Shelter from the Storm" (the awesome soundtrack includes other giants such as The Who, Elvis Presley, Neil Young, The Rolling Stones, Nirvana, Bruce Springsteen, Paul McCartney, AC/DC or Gloria Estefan).

Remarkably, at 19 minutes over two hours, Jerry Maguire never plays long, due entirely to the informed immediacy and precise balance of the script. It took Crowe three years to write, and the care shows in the depth of the characterizations and the logic of the plot. Originally conceived as a vehicle for Tom Hanks, the film cries out for an actor going through what one character fleetingly refers to as a "pre-mid-life crisis". Crowe has trusted his instincts to go with - at the time - relative unknowns in the large supporting cast, and the gamble has paid off handsomely. The acting is uniformly first rate, without a sour note in the entire ensemble. Gooding Jr. is outstanding (as would be his Oscar-win celebration), Zellweger is a revelation of precise comic acting, while little Lipnicki is constantly adorable, and his finely-timed scenes with Cruise - sentimental without once becoming cloying - are indeed the heart of the picture.

After Mission: Impossible, Cruise, an actor known for balancing "important" films with more mainstream stories, has cleverly switched the order by starring in his summer smash and following up with a film that looked like another populist parable like Days of Thunder but played with as much sincerity and substance as Rain Man. Perhaps sensing that his brash-young-guy-on-the-come routine was getting a bit old, Cruise must've rejoiced at the complexities of Maguire, a guy who wants to change but hasn't a clue how to go about it with guaranteed success. And it is that very confusion and vulnerability that separates Jerry from Cruise's other forgettable creations. A very smart actor, he saw the need for modification and jumped at it with calculated relish. Could Tom Hanks, or John Cusack, or Matt Dillon have played Maguire? Sure, but not with the volatile mix of supermarket tabloid fame and honest talent Cruise brings to the role. Would that have had an impact on the fragile chemistry of the film? Without a doubt. Jerry Maguire, the actor's 19th feature, showcases the best performance of Tom Cruise's career.

By 1996, Crowe was now three-for-three as a hyphenate filmmaker. His Say Anything... (1989) is a sublime tribute to youthful eighties exuberance, while Singles (1992), with its stoned-again career-best performance by Dillon but uneven secondary cast, was unfortunately overlooked but will play far better with age and the adoration of pop archaeologists seeking the truth about the Seattle grunge movement. Jerry Maguire was the confirmation, the "that guy has talent." statement.

He's a filmmaker of power on the word processor as well as the set, writing snappy, sharp dialogue that plays only in the context of his seemingly meandering, episodic plots. Look closely, though, and you'll see how carefully he unites actor and situation: scenes like the awkward elevator ride after Jerry and Dorothy have left SMI succeed through an intertwined foundation of timing, angles and performance. Yet an actor in a Cameron Crowe film must be prepared to do things that fly in the face of conventional narrative: his characters are forever addressing the camera and declaiming their innermost thoughts in voice-over, the cumulative effect of which is an anything-can-happen atmosphere and characters of enormous substance. That he coaxes such a disciplined performances out of 27-year-old Zellweger is proof enough that his sets must nurture an atmosphere of confidence and control.

Smart without being smart-mouthed, astute without being calculated, and quite obviously the work of a filmmaker with something important to say and a clear and wicked way of saying it, Jerry Maguire is a triumph of nuanced social satire masquerading as a commercial romantic comedy, a film that can both make fun of and wallow in its celebration of the crass spectacle professional sport has become. It's everything you'd expect from a Cameron Crowe film: funny, poignant, and insightful. There's a hero who dares to be optimistic in a cynical world, a charming, lonely man who yearns for recognition and, of course, the Girl, the one who inspires the hero to be more than he thought he could be.

Bailey: "Tonight I'll be the super me.
Steve: What if the super you meets the super her and the super her rejects the super you?
Bailey: Then it's no problem.
Steve: Uh-huh. Why?
Bailey: Because it was never you, it was just an act. I live my life like a French movie, Steve."



A disarmingly clever and sweet-spirited comedy, Singles - Cameron Crowe's second film, three years after Say Anything... - was the first film to put a new spin on the boy-meets-girl formula. When the young romantic couples in this film break up, they don't get mad at each other or indulge in a series of insults and attempts to make their lives miserable. They simply go from being lovers to being friends - and it's often hard to tell the difference. That's what Singles is about: a generation so self-protective it has come to see love as just another style of friendship - as interaction plus cuddling.

While Say Anything... was arguably the loveliest youth comedy of its decade, full of true, delicate, layered emotionalism, in Singles Crowe expanded his focus to include six characters in their early to mid-'20s, most of whom live in the same horseshoe-shaped apartment complex in Seattle, the new capital of middle-class bohemian chic. The surprise is that Singles is even slighter than Say Anything... was. Crowe may be a director in danger of having too much affection for his characters. He likes them so much, he minimizes their conflicts; he doesn't want to see them hurt. Still, he has such a perceptive eye for detail and a genuine, singular wit. Singles often comes close to being a TV show (Twentysomethings, perhaps), but it's a clever and infectious comedy of manners.

Honest performances, great writing and a kick-ass soundtrack make this film more than just a romantic comedy about finding true love. Crowe has a unique ability as a writer/director to mix the right song with the right dialogue to create lovely, funny and heartbreaking cinema moments. Kyra Sedgwick, Scott Campbell, Bridget Fonda and Matt Dillon are perfectly cast, bringing their own unique touches to characters that could have been clichéd, yet come across as distinctly original. The film is separated into acts, breaking up the two main relationships into the various actions and conversations that either bring the lovers together or tear them apart.

The Sedgwick/Scott pairing is the more serious, taking their instant attraction onto a bumpy life road neither of them is prepared to deal with. They give the film heart and hope, showing that there really is someone out there for everyone and that sometimes you have to fight for happiness. On the other hand, Fonda and Dillon are the poster children for the old adage opposites attract. He's a wild, womanizing, wannabe rock star; she's a simple, sweet girl who just wants to be loved. When she stops being a doormat and begins to realize her own dreams, she gives him a reason to not only miss her, but respect her as well. Her conversion from desperate to confident is a wonderful example to women everywhere that you don't need a man to be happy with yourself or your life. That her lack of interest eventually turns Dillon into a worthwhile boyfriend stretches belief, but it does make for a happier ending.

Singles received a fair amount of publicity because of its links to the indigenous Seattle grunge-rock scene. Yet it's far from being any sort of cutting-edge slice of Rock & Roll life. Given its nightclub settings, the film and the characters could have used some more raunch but then again, except for Cliff, they're not meant to be spiky, into-the-night types - they're basically polite, stylish young people. What marks them as '90s bohemians is their casual communalism. They're like overgrown teenagers, blithely exchanging partners as if love were a high school square dance and at the same time, they've grown up in a world where romance is shot through with cynicism and fear. And so they're too wary to let themselves be overwhelmed. Crowe has caught their spirit - the cooled-out passion of those who can long for love without being ruled by it. An intelligent look at relationships that never gets old.

Besides, you can't go wrong with a film that has Eddie Vedder (in a cameo as one of the members of Cliff's band, "Citizen Dick", along with Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard of Pearl Jam) and Tim Burton (as a next big Avant-garde director who makes a living shooting dating videos) in it.

"Somewhere around 25, bizarre becomes immature."

"There's a difference between a failure and a fiasco. A failure is merely the absence of success. Any fool can achieve failure. But a fiasco, a fiasco is a disaster of epic proportions. A fiasco is a folk tale told to others to make them feel more alive because it didn't happen to them."



Before I begin, I confess - and it's not really confessing, 'cause I never hid it - that I am a Cameron Crowe fan, having seen all of his six films, and having enjoyed all of them (even Vanilla Sky). I like his work, I relate to his characters and what he usually has to say in his films. They may not be masterpieces or the most "important" films ever made, but they're always personal stories, real ones (except Vanilla Sky). So you might think that this review is biased, that I'm gonna praise this film sky high. Fact is, I will, only because it's an enjoyable film, with many fascinating facets to it, and one which made me ponder through the points presented throughout.

While most critics panned this film, and I think many here might not like it too (groupies of Orlando Bloom don't count), I'd like to speculate why. It might be because of the many little disjointed sub-plots that this film actually contains. There's not really a main theme, but many small ones. No big idea, but many little ones. But that's Life, isn't it? So many non-linear events happening around us all the time, some making sense now, some not, some perhaps later, others none at all. But that in essence is what Elizabethtown is all about. It's about the discovery of oneself, about the celebration of life, even in death. It's also about the concept of failure, that it is definitely not the end of the world, that if faced with defeat, to take all 5 minutes to wallow and whine, then move on, because the world is not going to take pity on you.

It's about letting go of inhibitions, and living life as it should be lived, as you would like to live it. But Drew Baylor (Bloom) certainly doesn't begin as such. He's a shoe designer whose latest model bombed in the market, and is faced with a fiasco which cost the company close to one billion dollars in losses. His is a life of perceived success, until his world came crashing down and he contemplates ending it. But news about his father's death interrupted his own plans to die, and he's tasked with the responsibility of heading to the small town of Elizabethtown to cremate his father's remains and bring back to his family in Orlando. However, his father's extended family and relatives have plans to bury him, and herein lies his dilemma - how to drive home the point that they should respect his family's wishes, even though his father Mitch was many things to many different people, and they remembered him in their own unique way.

Through the interaction with these relatives, he learns more about his father than what he already thought he knew. Similar to Almost Famous where the character in question rarely or never takes up screen time, we learn so much of a person through dialogue, and many eulogies given, some comical of course. Which is similar to other Crowe films, the injection of wry humour, great music and many quirky characters which add colour to the plot. And one such character, which I think most would love to hate, would be Claire Colburn, played by Kirsten Dunst.

Here's a character with so much optimism, you'd think it's too good to be true. Thing is, there's actually people like this in the real world. She contrasts the pessimism in Drew with her positive attitude, and many might think the road trip finale is one that might be stretching credibility. But she's demonstrating the idea of living life with passion, and going after what she wants, never dwelling on the what ifs and of course, never letting the fear of failure get in the way. She brings about a new dimension to what we seen in Drew, with his plans to die cast in stone, and what we see in the many compromises between Drew's extended family. She's Spontaneity, the kind who would light up any party with life and exuberance.

The finale too soppy? Well, I've had my fair share of crazy/weird things done before, and looking at it in positive light, all it boils down to is meticulous planning, passion, and a dash of luck. Which brings me back to Cameron Crowe again. It reminded me of that particular insane night when it all happened. The road trip, though long, provided what I'd like to call a quick tour of the USofA (it really seemed like it), against a background of choice music. Anyone who's ever gone in some kind of road trip knows how true that scene rings.

Music, as usual in Crowe's films, plays a big part in the characters' lives and drives the story, providing its heart and soul. The soundtrack is a pleasure, clearly capitalising on the director's knowledge and passion for music, no doubt from his time working on Rolling Stone. Crowe loves shooting rural landscapes and seems fascinated by Middle America, capturing a true sense of the people and the seemingly meaningless landmarks perfectly. It feels like he is on a tour bus passing though these towns on a road to discover something greater.

Much have been said about the two lead's acting, but I'd like to add that I love their portrayals of their respective characters. Bloom and Dunst have great chemistry, which makes their scenes a joy to watch. I thought Susan Sarandon chewed up the screen in her limited screen time as Drew's mum, who initially we thought was going insane when the love of her life passed away, until we realise the immense passion she had for him. Really touching moment, disguised by comedy.

If you're wondering if you didn't just see the death-in-a-family / coming-home-again / girl-who-changes-your-life scenario you might be thinking of Garden State - Zach Braff's tremendous filmmaking debut (which is, as you know, one of my favourite films). The similarities are palpable (right down to Crowe's legendary soundtrack mastering), but Braff's film wasn't exactly the bastion of originality either, was it? It was what he did with it that made it so special. What struck me like a ton of bricks the first time I saw Elizabethtown wasn't its high cinematic calibre, it was how much I related to its characters. It didn't have the impact Garden State had on me (how could it?), but calling it a replica isn't fair. Still, one thing is for sure: all Garden State fanatics reading this - those who've seen it more than ten times, they know they are - will like this film, wether they admit it or not is up to them.

Elizabethtown isn't a great film by a long shot, granted. It's flawed, also granted. But it's also a moving, emotional, heart-grabbing journey; another unconventional Cameron Crowe film driven by relatable characters and mood-suited music. This a wonderfully romantic film that touches on loss and life. There's a magic in it somewhere, the kind that lifts you up and carries you right along with it. It sounds damn cheesy to say it, but Elizabethtown is life-affirming, the sort of film that leaves you thinking about your own future. When a film does that - trust me - everything else comes in one ear and out the other.

"So you failed. Alright you really failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You think I care about that? I do understand. You wanna be really great? Then have the courage to fail big and stick around. Make them wonder why you're still smiling."