After a devastating day at the office, Drew Baylor arrives home to an empty, darkened apartment and throws his bag on the floor. Almost immediately, Drew pulls out a kitchen knife and a spiffy exercise machine and begins construction on a suicide contraption designed to mechanically stab him to death.

On an impulse, Drew raids his closet and removes all his nice clothes, shoes, etc. Along with his fancy computer and television, he dumps these things in the alley behind his apartment. Finally, Drew takes a seat at his suicide machine and enjoys a moment to contemplate, before the knife he has duct-taped in place comes loose.

As Drew attempts to reattach the knife, he is repeatedly interrupted by his ringing cell phone. Eventually, he answers the phone: "Yello?" and learns from his sister Heather (Judy Greer) that their father has died while visiting family in Kentucky. Heather insists that Drew has to "handle this," because "[he is] the responsible one."

Devoid of emotion, Drew dismounts his suicide contraption and ambles to the window, where he gazes upon a group of looters who have already backed a flatbed truck into the alley. Most of them participate in loading up Drew's discarded belongings; however, two looters take a moment to dance a jig of elation in slow motion together.

This clip represents our first glimpse into Drew Baylor's private time and space, but only supposedly. Drew's behavior suggests total awareness of the camera, not in a post-modern sense but in the sense that everything he says and does is stagey and false. This is a definite theme to watch out for throughout Elizabethtown.

Drew has hardly any lines here, but they do include voiceover that asks, "Can you imagine? A whole life, wrapped up in a shoe." The answer, of course, is no. As for the suicide machine, Orlando Bloom is such a bad actor that even the way he drags the exercise machine out of the closet seems fake. Here are a few additional ideas to consider:

1. No one in the history of human beings choosing to end their own life has ever utilized a suicide machine. Ever.
2. Even if they have, it was not built from an exercise bike and a kitchen knife.
3. Even if it was, its creator did not hold his arms out and beam after assembling it.
4. Very few exercise bikes are designed to electronically perform the workout for you.
5. This particular suicide machine, providing no back support, would obviously result in nothing more than a severe poke and a backwards tumble.

This last point in particular really should have occurred to someone like Drew, unless he is a complete idiot. In which case the company has only itself to blame for investing $1 billion in a complete idiot's idea of a great shoe. (In the original cut of Elizabethtown, it is revealed that Drew's great innovation is -- are you ready? -- that his shoes whistle when you walk.)

The purging of Drew's apartment seems promising when we see it includes a computer with Jessica Biel's mug splashed across the monitor. Believe us, we would throw it out too. Unfortunately, this little stunt represents something deeper: a shedding of materialism that has taken over Drew's life. But does this jell with a subsequent suicide attempt? This behavior smacks of self-improvement rather than preparation for self-expiration. Gradually giving your belongings away is one thing; impulsively chucking your designer wardrobe is the first step in a lifestyle change.

Before a solemn Drew has a chance to flip the switch for a poke 'n tumble, the dislodged knife further cements suspicions that Drew does not intend to make good on his suicide plans. Have you ever used duct tape? That shit is permanent. We urge you to consider how stupid someone would have to be to fail at using duct tape. (In fact, a quick insert of the drooping knife reveals the duct tape has been carefully arranged not to hold anything in place.)

Shortly thereafter, when Drew finally answers his phone, it becomes clear that awareness of the camera runs in the family. Heather greets him, "Drew, it's your sister," establishing their relationship and coming just short of adding her own name at the end, followed by, "(Judy Greer)." Heather's unsubtle skill for blending exposition with intimate family dialogue continues: "You're the oldest, you're the responsible one!" The more we learn about Drew and his family, the clearer it becomes that this is not the case.