By Gerardo Mercado
This thinkpiece is a little bit of both a review and a brief thematic analysis of La La Land, so there is a fair amount of spoilers. In other words: you should only be reading this if you’ve already seen the movie.
La La Land stars Ryan Gosling as Sebastian, or Seb, a down-in-the-dumps jazz musician struggling with bills, as he hopes to someday open a jazz bar dedicated to preserving the legacy of said music genre, and Emma Stone as Mia, a fairly unknown actress looking for her shot at fame, trying to overcome what seems to be mounting evidence against her acting abilities.
First and foremost, it is a celebration of classic Hollywood movies, cinematographic compositions, bright colors, sill-frame wide shots, and classic close-ups. The movie is a full-blown musical, basking in all that that implies. At times, feeling like a massive party, and at times, deeply personal and touching.
The most important feature, however, is the human aspect. The film is constantly trying to be sincere, and this is where La La Land gets to you, because of its unapologetic honesty. Sure, at times it comes off as cynical, as it can’t help by acknowledging the irony in celebrating old Hollywood and its desire to do away with the old pretensions and falsehood the same era evokes in us. However, I can’t quite fault it for it, since it never reaches the point of making it more of a footnote in the big scheme of things, as it knows when to pull back and remind us of its true intentions.
This movie wants you to understand that Sebastian and Mia are just like us. They’re humans with complex emotions, sometimes contradictory and confusing, selfish and selfless, all exposed by the naked ethos written into the DNA of the musical. Sebastian comes off as an entitled brat because, well, he is, but he is also deeply afraid of losing what makes him human, and in a moment of contemplation he realizes how alone he truly has been. All of this is the same for Mia, in a different context, as she is looking for a chance to not simply prove to the executives at the studios she can act, but also to make it by herself. Both of these things are best addressed in their first songs; as for example, Mia contemplates “is someone in the crowd all there really is?” as her friends advise her to look for someone who might lunch her career.
Of course, Mia and Seb do find each other, otherwise there wouldn’t be a story to tell, and seeing them fall in love and how raw those feelings came to be was a spectacle to behold. Both of their first songs can also be interpreted as them longing for a genuine human connection in a city dedicated to telling make-believe stories and finding someone to take you to the next step. La La Land is no love story, at least not just that, and to judge like that would be myopic to the bigger picture the movie wants to convey.
Why? Because, Seb and Mia don’t end up together. They loved each other, yes, but this movie isn’t about them finding another person, it’s about finding the courage to chase and sacrifice for their dreams. At halfway through the movie, Seb sacrifices his notion of authenticity in hopes of providing for Mia, giving up what drove him to Jazz in the first place his sense of individualism. While Mia decides to put all her effort into a one-woman show, in the hopes of making a name for herself, this of course eventually leads to conflict between them–Seb blaming his musical frustrations on Mia and after a less than stunning theater presentation, Mia decides to call it quits and heads back home. After some plot proceedings, however, it looks like Mia will indeed get her shot.
After an honest and soulful audition on Mia’s part, they proclaim love for one another, but decide it would be better to give them time to fulfill their dreams, and after five years, they did…just not with each other. As Seb is now living alone fully dedicated to his club and Mia is a successful movie start with a husband and a child.
It is this ending, which should cause us, joy, sadness, catharsis and, most importantly, empathy. Because, at least once, you didn’t get what you want, and life was better because of it. Because at one point you, too, had to make sacrifices you wouldn’t appreciate until years later. Because sometimes sacrifices aren’t easy and they will always break your heart even if you know you’ve made the right choice. La La Land recognizes this and is honest about it and reveling in this recognition gives us one of the most visceral “what if” scene embodied into any visual medium.
Ebert said, “Movies are empathy machines”, and for a long time, I thought I understood what he meant, at least intellectually. I did not. That changed for me the moment I walked out of my viewing of La La Land. Because for first time, in a long time, a movie made me feel alive, not in the dull, biological sense, but rather in a more personal and deeper way; maybe even spiritual. The emotions I received viewing it and the euphoria I felt in the end was a chaotic amalgam of both happiness and dejection. This is what cinema is at its very core (and all art, but that’s another conversation). And the lessons La La Land teaches are essential to everyone, from the acceptance of moving on, to the rewards of our sacrifices, and why we do what we do to keep moving.