[3.7]
There are lots of reasons why certain films win accolades and awards. Some movies amaze with technical wonder, some with exhaustingly powerful performances. But the magic ingredient in so many movies is the content that is catered to the specific audience sensibilities of those who write reviews and hand out trophies. People in the film industry love film, naturally. They like to think their work is important and meaningful. And when something comes along to validate their work and history, it sparks a note of recognition and nostalgia that sweeps over the more challenging, distant, obtuse works of art that many people fail to relate to in a naturally emotional way. This isn’t a new phenomenon, and has been pointed out endlessly. Why else would THE ARTIST win a Best Picture Oscar?
I have yet to see WHIPLASH, so I can only judge Damien Chazelle’s work as it stands on its own. Let’s start with the film’s name. LA LA LAND could easily have been retitled “HOLLYWOOD ON HOLLYWOOD”, as it is so carefully constructed to reflect cinematic history (beginning with the unnecessary and contrived “Cinemascope” label over the opening, as the screen widens before our eyes) while also showing us a story so focused on the filmic arts that the only characters who aren’t trying to break into the fame machine are Mia’s ex-boyfriend and his brother, who are derisively shown discussing travel and other non-artsy things. “La la land” is a tired nickname for Hollywood, one so common to anyone from there, that perhaps the oblivious producers thought it was the perfect cute name to represent their film. Instead, it showcases the naval-gazing sincerity of Chazelle’s efforts, which seek only to rehash old ideas and praise the safe classics of a bygone era, with little innovation or original thought brought in. Maybe Chazelle just wanted something light and fun after the intense drama WHIPLASH. But the pretensions of the film propose something grander. They speak of a prolonged longing for simple tales and showy storytelling. Which is fine, but why retread the same old yarn of young kids just trying to make it in the big city?
It may seem I am being unjustly harsh on the film, but it’s frustrating to see a could-have-been-great film being hailed as a masterpiece simply because of nostalgia, that love of the familiar but briefly forgotten. Okay, a few more criticisms and then on to some praise. The opening dance sequence. It should have been a show-stopper. It’s whirlwind camera moves, choreographed traffic jam dancers, and bright smiley introduction to our technicolor musical world are meant to sweep the audience away, transport us to this wonderful semi-reality. But, it doesn’t quite hit. The music is lackluster, never really building the necessary energy. The singing is lifeless. The dancers try to bring joy to the scene, but the dark photography pulls everything down into a cold tone of indifference. My first impressions of the cinematography should not be “why are the blacks so crushed? What’s with the dim highlights? What video format were they using because the dynamic range is awful? Who ruined this in the coloring process?” The technical aspects of a movie are rarely the first things that commands my attention (they shouldn’t be), but I’m also not used to being so dismally confused by the photography choices. If the goal is to bring back the color and exuberance of films like THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG, then why is the picture so dark? Looking at some stills from the film, they managed to bring up the brightness a tad, but this is still a bizarrely dark-looking film (it reminded me of how underlit many 3D films seem because of the loss of light inflicted when applying the technique poorly). And the whirling, untethered freedoms of the camera moves didn’t excite me; they left me wondering who was pulling focus. Instead of being an anomaly, the sharpness of the picture would continue to bother me for the entire runtime. Okay, if you are going to use 24 fps and go for an old film look, then I can accept the blurry images flying by the lens. But when the camera is later locked on Mia’s face, and even then her sweater seems more in focus than her nose or eyes, I am thrown completely out of the story and am left contemplating the intentionality of all of it. There is no reason a thirty million dollar movie should have so many soft-focused shots. So why did everyone allow this to happen? Is no one else as bothered by this as I am? Glancing at reviews and the fawning praise for the color and photography especially, I guess we watched different films.
Starting at the low bar that the opening scene set, it is quite impressive how well Chazelle lures you into his world. It takes a while, but about half an hour in, I begin to be charmed by Emma Stone’s wide-eyed sincerity and Ryan Gosling’s puppy-dog daydream-intensity (well, maybe intense is too strong a word for Gosling). The musical numbers lack a humming-it-as-you-leave-the-theater catchiness, and I really wish Gosling and Stone were better singers, but they sell the songs well enough, and the choreography has its share of interesting bits, so that I don’t mind the rather blasé music in the first half. Unexpectedly, it’s when John Legend shows up and lures Gosling to join his jazz-infused rock-pop group that the energy level skyrockets. I actually loved the sounds of their group The Messengers, even if Gosling’s Sebastian (a jazz purist) doesn’t seem as impressed. For him, the band is a sell-out, a way of saving a few bucks so he can eventually open his own jazz joint and do music the right way: his way. There are a lot of oddly ironic things about the script, namely the suggestion that “Hollywood worships everything and values nothing” and yet, Chazelle doesn’t seem to think he is playing at that same game. The filmmakers fancy LALA LAND as innovative, a ‘different’ kind of musical, and the press tour continually mentions how difficult this film was to get made. A modern, original music set in LA! How could that ever make money?! (as MOONLIGHT quietly steals some award season attention, it’s hard not to laugh at Emma Stone’s pronouncement that her film was a truly challenging one to produce). Chazelle makes no secret of his influences here, especially CHERBOURG and SINGING IN THE RAIN. I suppose the innovation was having original music and a downbeat ending?
Since I have only a grudging appreciation of the soundtrack (let’s see if any of the songs stand the test of time like the corny but memorable beats of OKLAHOMA or SOUTH PACIFIC), I’m left heaping praise on the last half of the movie. Chazelle plays with time in an interesting way, and he cleverly shows the dissolving of the couple’s relationship and later reconciliation with only the vague mention of seasons (if it weren’t for the changing backdrop, this insular story would feel as if it might be taking place anywhere from a few days to a few years). When we suddenly cut to five years in the future, its abrupt and slightly daring. Successful Mia ends up in Seb’s jazz club, and we are treated to an exceptional alternate universe dream sequence, in which Mia imagines how life could have played out. This is by far the most spectacular and joyful few minutes in the movie, and Chazelle finally frees himself from a forced creativeness (remember that godawful spinning camera at the pool party of an early scene?) and lets loose in an inspired collection of set pieces that go full force in their dreamy fakeness. Now if he had shown this flare from the beginning… okay, perhaps it would have been too much. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been aesthetically honest, it would have felt false in the arc he was telling. But it would have been daring. As it stands, it is safely relegated to an imaginary sequence near the end of the film. It’s everything wonderful this film could have been. There’s a final scene after the dream (Mia walks out, Seb lets here… I think that’s all?), but the heart of the movie was already finished.
burning retina 