La La Land – Where the Music Speaks

Upon first watching the visually arresting musical drama La La Land, I perhaps unusually thought about the excessive amount of traffic on the road. I surmised, macabrely, that the main characters of the film, who spend several scenes dancing on the streets of Los Angeles, would have likely been killed early on by a speeding car, making the whole motion picture a sort of life flashing before your dying eyes moment.

My bizarre sense of humour aside, Damien Chazelle’s follow up to his 2014 drumming drama Whiplash is a mesmerizing story about following your dreams, reaching for the stars and fighting against the major hurtles along the way.

Though, just because we chase said dreams, it does not mean that they are always attainable. At one point, our male lead, Sebastian (Ryan Gosling), frustratingly complains of the Hollywood mindset: “they worship everything and value nothing”. A nuanced quotation that speaks to many levels, it also captures what happens around the world. It stuck with me, an example of so many things. . . that, in one phrase, people praise the beauty of the vintage theatres of yesteryear, yet by their actions demonstrate their true feelings (enjoying the modern amenities of recently built and mostly soulless cinemas, they allow those classical structures to fall into disrepair and slowly die); while it also speaks to the struggles of those who revel in the past. It is fitting that Sebastian is a struggling jazz musician in the dying days of the genre. It is this perspective that gives this movie its melancholic edge; a cynical streak that runs through it, making us wonder whether achieving our goals in its most pure state is even possible.

Beginning with a blatant, somewhat jarring musical number that takes place amongst immobile cars in an L.A. traffic jam, it transports us into the lives of two individuals, Sebastian and aspiring actress Mia (Emma Stone) – who just happen to be one car apart. Though their first few meetings are a tad harsh, things slowly turn around in the hate/love relationship. It is reminiscent, in some ways, of how Gene Kelly’s Don Lockwood and Debbie Reynolds’ Kathy Selden come together in the classic musical Singin’ in the Rain.

Providing us with two separate streams at first, each character is given their time on screen so that we, the audience, can learn of their passions and pitfalls. Mia, a struggling actress, goes through a revolving door of auditions, becoming increasingly frustrated that the casting directors don’t give her the time of day. Working as a barista in a coffee shop on the Warner Brothers lot, it depicts the struggles of so many actresses who have had visions of becoming famous – so close to glamour, yet so very far.

Sebastian, a jazz pianist and traditionalist in every sense of the word, revels in the music of the classics, flits around Hollywood in a vintage car, wears thin ties and a tight-fitting suit that makes him look like a retro James Dean (and need I mention the black and white shoes?). Frequenting the historic Rialto Theatre (which has since closed in real life, much like in the film), it feels like he is a star of one of the 1950s Hollywood films that the cinema screens. . . and that he has just walked out of the projector and into the modern landscape. Behind on payments and struggling to earn a paycheque, he argues with his on-again/off-again boss, Bill (a superb cameo from J.K. Simmons), about the music he should be allowed to play in his highfalutin restaurant.

Mia, after another failure, is brought to a big party by her friends – they hope that it will cheer her up. After an interesting evening, she discovers that her car has been towed. Walking home, she just happens to hear an emotive jazz tune eking from beneath a door. Entering, she catches the end of Sebastian’s song, only to see him unceremoniously fired for deviating from the playlist. Trying to offer him a compliment, he then rudely pushes her out of the way as he departs in a huff.

It is this collision that joins them, like star-crossed lovers, as they slowly, despite all odds, fall for each other. It seems like fate as they continuously bump into each other, sometimes on purpose, other times just happenstance, in multiple locations throughout the city. Much comedy comes from one of their meetings, when she spots a disenchanted Sebastian playing keyboard (and, more embarrassingly, keytar) as part of an 80s tribute band at a party she has been invited to. Following the event, they meander through a hilly Hollywood street at dawn, at times singing and dancing as Sebastian spins around a light post (another ode to Singin’ in the Rain).

Yet, soon they are motivating each other to follow their complicated, costly dreams. His: to open his own jazz club that pays tribute to the music he so loves; hers: to write her own stage play so that she can have a meaty role that demonstrates her acting chops to the world. While out on the town, Sebastian bumps into Keith (John Legend), an acquaintance from his school days. Awkward, to say the least, Mia wonders why her beau does not take him up on an offer to join his band (a long-term, paying gig). Will the pair be able to achieve their goals, using their artistic passions to fuel the development of their own success? Will success, if it comes, change them?

Divided into segments using the seasons of the year, the movie highlights the cyclical nature of many things in life. Once again feeding into the quote highlighted up above, it demonstrates the fickle ways of Hollywood and life itself – popular actress replaced by a younger, similar looking performer, as well as the ups and downs of a relationship, and several other things.

The complex beauty of this work cannot be overstated. Chazelle, utilizing nearly every trick in the proverbial book, gives the film a magical, sometimes otherworldly vibe (fitting of the unusual dichotomy found in this unique city). You will see extended one-shot takes, 360 degree pans, speedy zooms back and forth (that will remind some of his previous work, Whiplash), the camera flitting to the sky above, and so many other techniques that bring the musical vignettes and straight-forward dialogue to vivid life. Though, some of these manoeuvres would be less effective if they weren’t aided by the iridescent cinematography provided by director of photography Linus Sandgren (American Hustle). The movie has such a glow, feeling utterly vibrant from scene to scene, yet when needed, he douses the surrounding light, leaving only the main figure in focus. Each decision made by the team, whether backlighting to provide an impactful silhouette, or transporting us into the starry, projected skies of the Griffith Observatory, moves us, both literally (toe tapping and perhaps quiet finger tapping) and figuratively. Stylistically, everything from the film’s settings (wallpaper tones to Griffith Park) to the neon-like colours that add a red or greenish hue to the actor’s visages, provides the viewer with a truly unique experience.

The film is also etched with other types of references. Ingrid Bergman is plastered on both a wall and a billboard, posters adorn Mia’s small apartment (The Killers is just one example, with its artistic image of Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner), and exterior murals find Humphrey Bogart, Marilyn Monroe, Charlie Chaplin, and countless others chilling in what looks to be an old-timey movie theatre. It is another reason why La La Land is a multi-faceted feast for our eyes. It is only fitting that Chazelle (who also writes the screenplay) inserts a similar amount of additions revolving around jazz, including a piano stool Sebastian owns that belonged to the talented Hoagy Carmichael.

Then, there is the searing chemistry found between Gosling and Stone. Charming, comfortable and infectious, we buy their every move, even when things turn bitter over a surprise dinner. For a filmmaker to pay tribute to the likes of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire (a perfect pair from the musicals of long since past), it is essential that you have a modern team that shines as bright. It is no mistake that the two have been successful on the Awards’ circuit thus far, as their talent is on full display here – piano playing, singing, dancing and prancing, but more importantly than that, acting that feels real.

Transporting you for one moment to the emotionally complex finale, which I will not spoil, it too is a clear tribute to Singin’ in the Rain, this time the “Broadway Melody” ballet. La La Land’s final vignette has a similar fantastical vibe, with its neon lights and graphic yellow and red colour scheme on full display.

Hitting all the right notes, La La Land is a musical that is both fresh fare and loving tribute to the grand tradition of a unique genre. A refreshing change to say the least. It slyly steps its way into your heart and soul by way of its touching music (the score written by Justin Hurwitz is both mesmerizing and awe-inspiring) and visual flair – the magic that can only come by way of a rare breed of musical. So, visit this “City of Stars” to jazz up your life this dreary winter and rediscover the beauty that comes when music meets movie.