July 30, 2004:
Summer thunder and lightning is crackling overhead. Who knows if we’ll get the shot by the Ohio River today, or if we’ll head up there and wait it out, like last time. We’ll leave Kentucky as we arrived, happy victims of weather and heat and the iconography of true American soul. We’re a long way from the hermetically sealed world of film making in California – thank goodness. “Are you coming back to this part of the country?” someone asked me. The answer is yes. Starting in Kentucky was essential to this movie, and another instance where a change in plans served us (originally we were starting filming in Los Angeles.) Now I know how to proceed, to always remind everyone where we’ve come from, where we started with Elizabethtown, and I want to come back here and show the movie first. Kentucky has treated us well, and we all fell in love. Everything that happens from here should grow from what happened here. Kentucky is the soul of the movie.

July 27, 2004:
Me and the Louisville Mafia.
A group of fans have started to camp out around the Brown Hotel.  They are me-fans, and it’s the first time I’ve had anything like this. There are three or four of them, and they have signs like “You Had Me At Cameron” and “Cameron for President.”  They are sweet, and they keep showing up outside our shooting locations.  I think they’re good luck, as we ease into the shooting of some very difficult scenes at the Brown.  These are the scenes that establish the lobby of the hotel, and the environment of the middle part of the movie.  This is when filmmaking is also math, and a lot of time is spent figuring out where lights will go, who will stand where and when they will do what, and move to what other spot, and though this too goes slowly, Kirsten and Orlando are dead-on.  We’re all happy to have a new player, Allison Munn as the front desk girl Charolette.  She arrives with a bright comedic spirit and completely nails the part of the busybody concierge/hostess of the hotel, with a secret crush on Drew.

July 23, 2004:
Bono fever strikes E-Town!
I can’t wait to talk to Kirsten today because I'd had a late-night revelation. Sometimes, particularly in a car scene, you can be separated from your actor by a great distance. It's important to start building our shorthand. Standing in Louisville's Cave Hill Cemetery today, the most beautiful cemetery in the world and the site of an incongruously upbeat date between Drew and Claire, I tell her what I think is a great rule of thumb for our communication about the role of Claire. Like some of my favorite characters, she is a warrior of positivity. Claire is a character who'll never let you see her cry - she'd much rather go home, shut the door, and spare the world the trouble. She is on the planet to help others... until someone realizes she's in need herself. It's a fun part for Dunst, and she naturally makes the sunniness of the character interesting, but here's my revelation. If ever she's in trouble with the character, or lost on how to play something, even in the middle of the scene, here is the map back to safety - more love. This is a character that is pure and simply a messenger of love. I want her to know it, and I tell her, and she responds immediately with a quick nod. That's all it takes. I’m enjoying working with her, and this is my best day with her ever. We're just about to film this sequence, a sequence that was always supposed to happen on a sunny day and, of course, suddenly a loud crack hits a few miles away.

Thunder and Lightening:
Day 8
Thunder and rain start to sprinkle, and then downpour hits within about three minutes. “Let’s wait out the rain,” yells the a.d. I see Kirsten head away from the camera, and as someone else pops open a zebra print umbrella… it hits me. The sequence should be shot in the rain. "Let's shoot it now, let's use the umbrella." Dunst snaps it open, and Orlando shouts happily, "let's do it," and we're off. Their first take in the rain, approaching the unique grave of a beguiling local part-time magician, works beautifully. We’re off and running. It will be a sequence in the rain, and the sun… using the summer storms that flash through Kentucky as the backdrop.

Many hours (and rain delays) later, our day ends. Twenty-three separate shots, three scenes, a montage in the rain and a close-up on a new character – the urn. My most productive day… and week… ever. I hope it all feels as good later as it does at this moment. I’m not sure, it’s all blended into one music-and-rain filled Kentucky blur. Good night.

July 21, 2004:
Making a movie, and especially directing the actors, is sometimes a matter of emotional math. The goal, I think, is to satisfy that voice in your head and heart… the one that tells you that a scene is as good as you'd always imagined it. On the day of filming, with chaos reigning around you, and a large clock ticking on the time you can spend, the objective is to get the best version of the scene and know when you have it… or when you don’t. The scene today at Wagner’s Pharmacy was always a flashpoint in rehearsals. We never got the scene perfect in rehearsals, and the actors were secretly dreading the day of filming…
Why so serious?
dreading the agony of NOT getting it right when everything was in place, and the big camera was whirling away, saving everything for posterity. I woke up feeling confident and happily rested after eight hours of sleep (a big bonus). I took this confident mood to the set, and tried to inoculate everyone with the enthusiasm. On the way to the set, I tell Andy that it’s going to go well, I was sure that it would. Privately, I know it's a make-or-break day in terms of getting the lead actors’ chemistry on film.

JT & JW (John Toll & Sound Mixer Jeff Wexler
The scene is a simple scene across a table, but much is discussed. It takes place at a Louisville hotspot… for horse trainers and horseracing fans, a diner across the street from Churchill Downs, site of the Kentucky Derby. It’s a true romantic comedy scene, dependent on the rhythm of the actors and the chemistry of the leads. We start with the wide shot, and Kirsten and Orlando are immediately “on.” I’m ecstatic. This is the true beginning of their love story on film. Kirsten and Orlando have spent just enough time around each other to be comfortable, they have obvious repartee, they joust with each other naturally, and the scene explodes with rhythm and humor. Kirsten finds a great comic tone as Claire, and the scene has never been better. I play music on the set and during their takes, sometimes just to surprise and jolt the actors. These two have always responded to it - it's part of our process together. Today, I tried super-upbeat stuff to throw them off-guard, music they wouldn't even listen to themselves, stuff like The Monkees, or obscure soul music. It works, but as we move in for closer shots, I switch to something more intimate and confessional. Immediately I can see something shift in Kirsten, she goes to a very private place before we film. We start filming and suddenly her Claire is darker, more interior, very private. At first it doesn't even feel like the character, but soon I can see what she's doing - this is the raw Claire beneath, and this is the pain that her character keeps tucked away. For the next few minutes, she shows it all, all the layers... It's a fascinating take, and I'll probably use a piece or two from it in the final edit. This is how finely tuned she is an actor. I make a mental note to be careful with the music I play during her takes... she's an amazingly instinctive actress, and what she hears gets into her artistic bloodstream, instantly. It's a blast working with Dunst, there's nothing wasted in her acting. Next I try a song I know is a favorite of Kirsten’s - she absorbs that and turns Claire's emotions inside out, right on camera, again. It's all there, right in her eyes. All day long, men on the crew take me aside and say, “I want to meet MY Claire… “ I've been waiting to put her on film as Claire for a very long time. We turn around on Orlando's side of the scene, and the chemistry is complete - his Drew is confounded and enchanted by the richness of this girl. Finally we have the "Wagner's" scene on film and it’s better than it’s ever been before. We have peaked on the right day.

Now we head up into the hills of Kentucky for the completion of the “Red Hat” scene – a scene where the two characters meet after an all-night phone call. Both actors rip through their takes, and we all go home tired but happy and, of course, ravaged by mosquitoes who laugh at our feeble attempts to repel them with spray.

July 19, 2004:
The day begins with some of Orlando’s most compelling stuff, a scene facing his dead father’s body in a casket at Clark Funeral Home in Versailles, Kentucky. It’s one of the first sequences I wrote for "Elizabethtown," a scene in which a guy who’d never seen a dead body before deals with being left alone in a room with the deceased father he never knew and never really fell in love with in life. It was written as a showcase moment for the lead character, and a musical showcase too. Much is meant to be said with his silent looks. It was also one of the scenes I auditioned all potential Drews with, and one of the first I’d worked on with Orlando almost two years ago. These are dangerous scenes to discuss and rehearse. Sometimes too much time is spent worrying about these “big” scenes and they can easily crumble under the weight on filming day, when the off-handed ones sail through with ease. I've learned not to over-rehearse scenes. Still, the casket scene loomed on the horizon as a "big" moment. "Big" moments can be dangerous. Today, though, fortune smiles as Orlando digs deep and we’re done with the scene before ten in the morning. There's even time to play different songs with different rhythms, trying different things. John Toll's lighting is deeply moving too. Scene and visuals work together.

The fans turn up in E-town, 8:30am!
Orlando finishes the day signing every autograph for the local fans waiting for many hours for him on the street. Dunst, visiting for some costume adjustments and film tests that we do on the front lawn, does the same. (Those are the internet photos that have been surfacing - our costume test on the funeral parlor lawn.) Oh, and the mayor of Versailles, Fred, who actually delivers pizza too, gives me a key to the city. It’s on my mantelpiece.
The key to the city of Elizabethtown!
There is no doubt in my mind, this would have made my father a) happy, and b) laugh. You just don’t see this kind of passion and appreciation in Los Angeles. Plus, there’s some kind of rare delight in talking to the mayor, and calling him Fred.

July 16, 2004:
Kirsten returns from her press tour, soon she'll be on film too. A beautiful week ends as we film late at the Clark funeral home. Big scenes, big emotions. The crowds on the streets are growing, kids and families and locals and some who've heard we're here and have traveled to see Kirsten or Orlando. Both take the time, always, to run off and sign autographs or in Orlando's case, taste the homemade ice cream a neighborhood family has made.
Ale-8 by the crate!
We even get a visit from the owners of Ale 8! (It's a favorite regional drink - it's written into the script.) It’s so wise and so fortunate that we’re starting the movie here so that everyone can bond, and see exactly what this movie is about – Kentucky and the strength of American life outside the culture centers that dominate the media. All the characters and actors are coming together -- the movie feels alive. It’s a shame to waste this good of an exhaustion on sleep, but so it shall be. Good night.

July 14, 2004:
My dad's best friend, Ralph Conlee
A nail-biter, but we make the day again. There's a visit today from my dad’s good old friend Ralph Conlee, who watches from my director chair as we do our big “car stunt.” I get all the shots with just a few minutes to spare. I have to keep my eye on the movie, and not just on making the schedule… though one feeds the other. Watching dailies is the true highlight. The scene by the gravesite from day one shows the movie’s look – deep and rich… a comedy with visual texture. It feels like comedies that I love, the ones that work the deep-tissue of the frames, “Harold and Maude,” or even “Local Hero." Plus, I can already see from the music we've played during the takes... the actors are soaking up the songs we've already picked for the movie.

July 12, 2004:
My most magical first day ever, and it starts in the Pisgah Cemetery just outside of Lexington. Wonderful accidents arrived, almost immediately. Many feet of film shot. Orlando as Drew is now officially on film, and so it really begins. It's a tough week, with everything scheduled tightly, so I know I have to move quickly. The rehearsals are paying off - there's a brisk language between the actors and me. "Try that thing we did last week?" "Okay, sounds good." This is the best kind of language between directors and actors. And it sure beats, "Okay, what are we doing here?" "You tell me." Special highlight - playing Cat Stevens in the cemetery, and getting a big laugh from soundman Jeff Wexler, who began his career as a production assistant on "Harold and Maude."

July 6, 2004:
Everyone is rested up and ready to start filming. We set up shots for the upcoming driving scenes with Orlando. Family portraits (that will be featured on the refrigerator and dresser, etc) are taken of Susan Sarandon, Tim Devitt and Bloom. Standing on the street in Louisville, they pose together and it's like watching another piece of the puzzle snap together. I take a photo cam shot and send it back to L.A. so Doria, who works in our Vinyl Films office, can see. She writes me back excitedly. Putting a movie "family" together is always tricky, and our casting director Gail Levin (nickname "Genius") is a stickler for physical similarities in the casting choices. So is Susan Sarandon. When she met Orlando and Judy Greer in rehearsals, Susan looked into their eyes almost immediately and sized them both up, laughing. "Yep," she said, "we look like a family." Today it's fun to see them in the same frame. In a flash, summer thunder rocks the sky and we’re all caught in a rainstorm. Neal Preston takes a few last portraits of Mitch and Hollie – Sarandon and Devitt – caught in the rain. There is something tragic and romantic in the shots. Bet those are the ones we use.

July 3, 2004:
Last day of rehearsal with Kirsten before she leaves for Spiderman press throughout Europe. The last rehearsal, including the ballroom scene, sparks with real intensity. Dunst is especially magnetic today. It's not hard to stare at her, and for the two hours of our rehearsal it's a real glimpse of the movie we're about to shoot. She's immersed in her character. You'd never know that elsewhere, all across the country, she's on screens everywhere in one of the most successful movies ever made. Here, she's just a girl from Nashville, playing a flight attendant with a love of travel and a strange fascination with a shoe designer from Portland, Oregon, here to helm the funeral of a father he had planned to know better… next year. The exhaustion I'd been feeling is disappearing into a new kind of adrenalin. I hope that I can keep this journal going. Many a director has started keeping a journal only to see it disappear into blank pages shortly after filming, with the tidal wave of actual filming hits. Wish me luck.