Bright leaves, full hearts, can’t lose

I think there’s someone in every family who is obsessed with heritage and history – who writes out family trees and spends all of Thanksgiving talking about how he found out he’s actually 1/16th Cherokee or something like that. And it is interesting to get a look at our ancestors, like reading a history book with an extra sense of attachment.

Of course, the excitement comes when an important family figure can cross over and become an important historical figure. You want an ancestor that can pass the conversation test – would someone outside your family care about this person in normal conversation?

Bright Leaves starts off with this at its center. We have John Harvey McElwee, whose story would seemingly be interesting even if Ross McElwee weren’t directing. By the time we get to the end, though, and figure out that his story might not be all that its cracked up to be, we’re already so invested in McElwee’s personal story that it doesn’t matter anymore.

How does this happen? I think it helps that there is a clear narrative storyline. We travel with McElwee as he goes home and does his interviews. This could easily be plotted out as a standard Hollywood movie (man feels the need to go home, reconnects with family members, goes to his old house, uncovers a family mystery or two, then sums up the whole journey emotionally). The interviews are also key. We have an array of interesting characters, but McElwee does not pass judgment. there’s very little editorializing in the questions he asks – each is allowed to tell their story, and that openness makes them relatable. Without it, I wouldn’t care so much about Durham county or the McElwees. It works, though, and I’m with the director the whole way.