If you happened to be wondering about Elle Woods’ origin story — I wasn’t, but surely somebody was — help is at hand in the form of “Elle,” a prequel turning up exactly 25 years after “Legally Blonde” became a frothy summer hit for Reese Witherspoon.
Having viewed all eight episodes of “Elle,” which begins streaming Wednesday on Prime Video, I can tell you that it’s pretty much exactly what you would expect: “Elle” is a cute, funny fish-out-of-water comedy series that unfolds rather slowly (it might have worked much better as a two-hour movie), and Lexi Minetree in the title role is uncannily good at channeling young Witherspoon’s performance in the 2001 movie, with that sweet breathiness and wide-eyed comic timing down pat. (What, like it’s hard? Sorry, couldn’t resist.)
It’s an enjoyable watch, full of winking references to the original (“Have you ever considered being a lawyer one day?” somebody asks Elle, admiringly) and to other classic rom-coms, most notably “Bridget Jones’s Diary” and “Clueless.”
But here’s what's potentially of most interest to those of us contemplating “Elle” from our perch here in the Pacific Northwest: In the first episode, Elle and her parents (June Diane Raphael, Tom Everett Scott) move from Los Angeles to Seattle, which means that perpetually pink-clad Elle must find her way in a mid-’90s Seattle public high school where nobody is blonde and everyone’s in grunge flannels.
(Seriously, everybody. Even the cheerleaders wear chopped-off plaid flannel shirts with their little skirts, which is an unexpectedly cute look. This is, from what I hear from actual mid-’90s Seattle public high school alumni, not really how things rolled back then, but never mind.)
Elle’s L.A. friends are horrified by the move (“It sounds … north,” says one), but the ever-positive Elle is determined to make things work, even bedazzling a Nirvana T-shirt in a failed attempt to fit in.
The actual Seattle content, unfortunately, is mostly nonexistent: Except for a few establishing shots, “Elle” wasn’t actually filmed here. Like so many productions, it was shot in my other hometown of Vancouver, B.C., and sharp-eyed viewers will note the Granville Island Public Market standing in for Pike Place, complete with fish throwers.
Elle’s Seattle high school, “Rainier West,” is actually Point Grey Secondary School in Vancouver — which just happens to be a block from the house I grew up in, which means that if you watched “Elle” with me, you would have been very annoyed by my constant and extremely knowledgeable interjections of “There is ALREADY a stop sign at that corner” and other important information. (Seth Rogen is an alumnus of Point Grey, and his production company is Point Grey Pictures. The GIPM does not actually have fish throwers. OK, I’ll stop now.)
But even the faux-Seattleness of “Elle” is decidedly odd. Teens throw outdoor parties in November; there’s a general agreement that nobody wears suede; and, in a development that caused me to pause my screener and ask dramatically, of nobody, “WHAT???,” it’s casually revealed that — not a spoiler! Nobody would notice this but us! — Elle and her family live in Medina. Which, I need not tell you, is not Seattle.
Late in the series, somebody unveils a sign for a retail establishment located in “Medina, Seattle,” and yes, I’m harping on this a bit, and maybe in 1995 Medina everybody was wearing flannel all the time and this show is actually a documentary, but it was quite a distraction.
Between Vancouver and Medina, we’re pretty far from actual Seattle, but I appreciated the references to Amazon (known back then as “that dinky little online bookstore”), “Sleepless in Seattle” (which Elle watches, of course, on VHS) and the late Mercer Arena.
But the nonetheless likable “Elle” — already renewed for a second season — does have a few things to say about Seattle, in its binary way. Seattle is set up as the backwards-day version of Los Angeles, until Elle figures out that Seattle teens are every bit as conformist as L.A. ones, but just don’t like to admit it.
“They’re really afraid of being like everyone else,” a sympathetic adult tells Elle, who adds in soft dismay, “except when it comes to plaid.” And, despite some romantic complications and mild rebellion (involving some “Breakfast Club” cosplay) and pink-tinged frustrations, young Elle finds herself falling in love with Seattle — and beginning to find her voice. So, apparently we in Seattle can take some credit for Elle Woods’ brilliant career. No objections here.
