 BY SARA HAVENS |
The scene was typical Hollywood. A red carpet leading to the theater’s entryway split two groups in search of the same thing — the perfect celebrity snapshot. The press on one side aimed cameras at arriving limos. Reporters clamored for a spot on the rail to score two minutes, hell, 30 seconds, with the stars. On the other side a herd of fans with glittered signs, T-shirts and posters squealed whenever a car neared the circus.
It was typical Hollywood, repackaged and delivered to Louisville’s doorstep. Nearly 200 invitation-only tickets were distributed for the Louisville premiere of “Elizabethtown.” The fact that it was made in and about Kentucky certainly piqued guests’ interests, but that’s not why some showed up, the bluebloods of Louisville, dressed to the nines, sashaying past the riff-raff, themselves pining for a moment with Cameron or Orlando, a story to tell at their next brunch at Lynn’s or in the clubhouse at Valhalla.
We’re pretty sure this young lady hearts Mr. Bloom, not the city in Florida. She was one of many cheering fans who showed up as early as 11 a.m. to snag a spot along the railing. (Sara Havens) |
The story is about a guy (Bloom) who, all in one day, loses his job and learns that his father has died. He heads to Kentucky, where his father was visiting family, for the funeral. What he discovers is a group of people, even a whole town, who seem to know his father better than he. He deals with his own failures while rediscovering an extended family with its own quirks and issues.
The “Elizabethtown” that Crowe showed Saturday night was 18 minutes longer than the final cut that will be released in mid-October. “There’s more Kentucky meat on the bones,” he quipped to the audience before it began. Bloom added a “thanks for making me feel a part of Kentucky.” When the credits began to roll and the lights went up, brief applause was followed by a collective shuffling and quick gathering of belongings, so as to hightail it to the after-party at the Brown Hotel, where more Cameron and Orlando appearances were promised …
Mr. Bloom (Sara Havens) |
Top 40 pop soon replaced the soundtrack, and Louisville’s elite were swaying to Kelly Clarkson and Mariah Carey. Bloom had come and gone, lasting a mere five minutes with the mob. Jim James of MMJ was on his way out. “This music sucks,” he said. “What’s up with it?” Crowe and wife Nancy Wilson attempted to make their way into the ballroom but were bombarded with handshakes, pictures, conversations and autographs. Wilson, who scored the film, even found herself shoved out of some pictures, into corners, on the back burner of the scene.
She was eager to talk about the music she picked for the film. Her husband discovered My Morning Jacket, she said. “He’s such a collector of music — I can’t even keep up with him. But when he brought home their disc, I was so taken by them. They’re great. I sensed an early Neil Young sound to them.”
One foot — one — landed in the ballroom before Wilson grabbed Crowe by the arm and escorted him through a secret doorway, the kitchen. They were troopers — they put in a good 45 minutes.
The party lasted another hour or so. Bluebloods congratulated themselves for attending such a special event. Some had stories, some had pictures. Some had both. Some were cordial, and others wallowed in self-importance. No photographs of the Mapothers. NO PHOTOGRAPHS OF THE MAPOTHERS. LEO gets it, loud and clear.
The bartenders sealed up the leftover booze, the kitchen staff cleared the tables and collected the empties. Louisville was Cinderella for a night, but inevitably, inexorably, we turned into just another mid-sized Southern city by daylight. Such is the case when you’re almost famous.
www.leoweekly.com
Contact the writer at shavens@leoweekly.com
