La La Land by Damien Chazelle

As virtually everything in this virtual reality of today, the amazing artistic accomplishment and miraculous box-office success -- consider the current chances of both happening at the same time -- of Damien Chazelle's La La Land was relegated to oblivion in an instant. So it wouldn't probably be that bad an idea to go out for a stroll and briefly revisit the work. Especially since there is a possibility that despite all those Globes and Oscars, Mr. Chazelle may still feel a bit like Mr. McClane did during his original ordeal -- "pretty ... unappreciated", that is. Well, substance-wise, at any rate...

While over the course of its 55 weeks in release the movie grossed about $500M worldwide and received critics' accolades (even if for all the wrong reasons), a huge part of its audience was actively complaining throughout the entire period about the film's purported flaws. Among which were listed: the bad singing/dancing ("and this is a musical!!"), the artificial and pretentious finale, and the general lack of meaning. So let's have another look at the interplay of the form and contents of this work and address all three things mentioned above along the way...

OK, what do we have here to start with? Is it a genre-related piece? Is it a classical musical? Or maybe it's a formal experiment with the genre that decided to show off a little with its ending in a vain attempt to appear more profound? I'd say it's neither. What is it, then? I'd put it in this way – it's a movie that uses the musical aesthetic how it sees fit while following its own rules. Which, by the way, is a perfectly legitimate approach, provided one follows those consistently. Does the movie do that? In my view, like all other Chazelle's works, it certainly does. But if it's not what you'd call a classical thing, is it supposed to entertain you with its technical brilliance? Probably not. Moreover, the way the movie's musical numbers are done is precisely designed to allow them to reveal those dramatic elements, feelings, emotions and the meaning behind them that were supposed to be revealed. If it had been done in a different way they'd likely have failed to do that. And, incidentally, the lyrics and music are bad? The stuff may be not something special in and of itself, granted, but when seen in context and enhanced by the performances? Like in the audition scene? I mean...seriously?

Now let's get to the subject matter thing. What was Chazelle making this movie about? The general consensus seems to be – dreams vs reality. But what exactly would we mean by "dreams" in this case? The vacuous ambitions of a random airhead who wants to "make it in Hollywood", which are only based on her being sick and tired of serving lattes? Is this movie about pursuing career, success, fame, money? And what about "reality"? Are we talking about the corporate environment of modern dream factories? Anything of the sort? I guess, you can look at it in this way. But taking into consideration the previous Chazelle's film alone would be more than enough to suggest that it's not the only possible one. Now, when we also have First Man and can trace the recurring motives throughout the entire "trilogy", the assumption that there may be a little bit more to this movie in terms of its subject matter is ineluctable. And if you take it as your point of departure and start to follow the film's visual metaphors with all their nuance and graceful development... However, while the context of two other films may be helpful, this one perfectly works on its own as well - simply by the magic of its ethereal atmosphere. Some scholar once said about American poet Vachel Lindsay, "The cities of America were always for him signs of yet other cities, hieroglyphs, metaphors of a beyond". Fifteen minutes in I was immersed. Thirty minutes in I was totally mesmerised. And couldn't help but think that this is exactly the angle from which the city in La La Land should be seen. And this is precisely the angle from which the movie itself should be looked at...

This movie hardly has a lot to do with writing love letters to Hollywood. And it isn’t a romantic tale, either. Or, to be more precise, despite being inspired by one of the most iconic love stories, it's not just that. To reduce it to a musical melodrama would be akin to considering the great Blow-Up a stylish collection of sketches depicting Swinging London. But the 1966 masterpiece is arguably among three main works in film history in terms of its aesthetic merit as well as philosophical value for a reason. And although the following statement would probably sound audacious, that cinematic creation and all three Chazelle's films may well share their subject matter. The angle may be slightly different. Different aspects may be highlighted and dramatically emphasized. But, essentially, all of them are focused on one and the same thing. So if we go with metaphorical readings, as far as I can see, just like Antonioni's terrific picture, all Chazelle's ones are, more than anything else, about not settling for the surface of reality. But unlike Blow-Up's protagonist, who only gets a glimpse beneath the surface and then gives up without a fight, Chazelle's characters tend to make a different choice. Borrowing from Leonard Cohen's imagery, they, each one in their own way, become an embodiment of this quiet determination to leave Boogie Street for good...

So this movie is not so much about professional or even personal realization. It's about existential one. It's about following your dreams in the sense of finding your own path whatever it takes and walking it no matter what. About the utmost importance of making this choice and sticking to it in attempt to get to what this reality is really all about. And a pretty good case can be made that, as far as this kind of path goes, everyone is fundamentally alone. But it doesn't mean that communication is hopeless. It doesn't mean that it's impossible to establish a genuine contact with another being and help each other in exploring it. And that’s what they do in the movie. That’s what they acknowledge at the end – each one back on their own journey. They find their love and it helps both of them to stay true to their roads. And then they both have to let it go to remain so. But that love they found, the magical moment they created together is now – and forever and ever – a reality too...         

Which brings us to the ending. The ending that, if read so, becomes one of the most devastating, uplifting, overwhelming, and overall beautiful finales I've ever encountered. Did Chazelle mean it like that? I don’t know. Did he do it consciously? I don't know. But that's the movie I’ve seen. A piece of true cinema. A really unique experience. And one of the best films delivered by this century so far, pure and simple. Even if Mr. Chazelle himself would beg to differ...


Miles Through the L.A. Night
(as inspired by the movie)

city that can read
mulholland drive as a poem
running through it
sprawling over it at night
when dreams go beyond reality
and reality goes beyond
when miles goes on stage
on the other coast miles away
all the last meeting places away
somewhere on the other shores
under the other stars
but always right in the middle
and always right here making
his way through this night quietly
making the dream of the beyond
go beyond the dream