La La Land: A Film About My Love/Hate Relationship with Los Angeles

Yesterday, my cousin and I went to watch the Damien Chazelle’s La La Land. The theater allotted one of the larger auditoriums for the film, which I attribute to the media buzz that has been surrounding the film, but when we arrived, we found this unnecessary as there were only six other people in the theater, a strange turnout for a Saturday afternoon.

I preferred the empty theater; I’ve found it makes my laughs and tears more genuine when they’re not prompted by the responses. With this meager audience, it was all the more true. My cousin and I seemed to be the only ones that found parts of the movie funny, sad or upsetting. There was little more than silence from everyone else.

When Whiplash, Chazelle’s last film, was released in 2014, I couldn’t wait to watch it, and I can’t say my sentiments were the same when I first heard about La La Land. Despite its stress-inducing visuals, Whiplash seemed incredibly engaging from the release of its first trailer. I was surprised when I heard Chazelle’s next film would be a lighthearted L.A.-based musical and even more surprised with the first trailer. No amount of buzz got me to the point of obsession I reached leading up to Whiplash‘s release. However, now that I’ve seen it, I admit that La La Land was a surprisingly enjoyable experience.

As Crazy, Stupid Love taught us, Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling make a great on-screen couple, and La La Land confirms this as the two sing and dance themselves into an uplifting relationship. Their banter, which continues into the film’s musical numbers, keeps the film moving forward and the film’s plot never stops to let its audience’s minds wander at any point. It’s a simple film telling a simple story, but despite its predictable end, it was, ultimately, refreshing to be shown the struggle of living the artist’s life in L.A. and told that, if you’re a certain kind of someone, it might even be worth it.

[Minor spoilers ahead]

My cousin and I were both overwhelmed by sadness as the credits rolled on screen–not only because the film was at an end but because the consequences of the characters’ decisions were not the fairy tale for which we had naively hoped. When the lights began to raise with the credits,  the film was nicely summarized by one of the older audience members as she rose from her seat. “That’s life,” she laughed to her friend, as they walked out of their aisle. And I would have to agree.

La La Land provides a vision of the life of dreamers in Los Angeles–a life, I’ve personally chosen not to live. But I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t, for a second, convince me to continue dreaming. The story is so uplifting that, until the end, dreams almost become more realistic than romantic, and reminds the retired dreamers in the audience that even when after choosing a stabler life, we never stop dreaming.