★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Like many others, I’m sure; this review begins with a
clarification. No, more a resigned confession: I’ve never been one for musicals.
While everyone else of my generation grew up with the animated song-and-dance
phenomenon of the Disney renaissance, the closest I got were cartoons with a
few songs in them (predominantly Toy
Story, the Phil Collins-heavy Tarzan and a crummy VHS copy of The Transformers: The Movie). There’ve
been some exceptions every now and then, including but not limited to Jeff
Wayne’s The War of the Worlds, parts
of Les Miserables, and the time my
housemate practically forced me to watch Chicago.
Despite the varying quality of those examples, nothing has ever been able to
shake my innate prejudice. I spent the opening logos of La La Land braced to cringe, waiting for the spasm in my gut and
the embarrassed shiver to cross my cheeks…but neither came.
Instead, I spent two hours jigging my knee up and down in
glee, weeping in wonder and beaming in total surrender, side-by-side with my mum
(who, fittingly, took me to see Tarzan all
those years ago). For those of you who’ve been living under a rock since the
film’s dazzling first appearance at the Venice film festival, Damien Chazelle (Whiplash) directs Ryan Gosling and Emma
Stone as Sebastian and Mia, two California dreamers who begin to fall in love after
a chance encounter on a busy highway. Seb aspires to open his own Jazz club (in
order to save what he sees as a dying genre), and Mia, a wannabe actor, is desperate to escape
her life of serving coffee to the inhabitants of the Warner Bros. backlot (“That’s
the street from Blade Runner!” – I whispered
excitedly as the pair wandered among the vintage façades).
Yeah, I’ve never found myself attached to the grand heritage
La La Land is so clearly besotted
with, but throw in a location from one of my favourite movies, an original John
Legend song and not one, but two
sequences paying homage to Rebel Without
a Cause, and you’ve got every inch of my being in an unrelenting embrace.
Plus, giving Stone a lead role helps. Honestly, I could gush for hours about
how her every eye roll, head spin and half-smile in this has extended my life
expectancy by several decades, but we’d be here for twice that length.
Where Gosling is concerned, another of my long-held
prejudices has been put to rest. While his woozy eyes have understandably wowed
many, to me his expression has always appeared vacant, almost detached. In
Shane Black’s The Nice Guys, this
worked wonders (his character was a complete klutz), and here, too, his hazy
gaze speaks to something authentic: the far-reaching mind of a dreamer. I
finally get it, you guys.
Okay, now I’ve confessed and repented for my sins, can I
gush about the routines, please? Cool, thanks: Justin Hurwitz’ songs are perfect,
the dances move with the sweep and grace of sublime animation, and all are
presented in a rainbow-soaked palette as flavoursome and primary as a packet of
fruit pastilles. Standouts include a hilltop toe-tap (that moonlit beauty from
the poster), a one-shot parkour through heavy traffic and a soaring waltz among
the stars. Despite wanting to, I hesitate to blabber further: I’d hate to ruin
any of what this film has in store.
In contrast to the stark colours, the morality of the story - of Seb and Mia’s victories and sacrifices - is far from black and white. I’m
pressed to label it ‘earnest to a fault’…but, well; it hasn't got one! Chazelle
knows we’re too cynical to buy a total lovesick ode to Tinseltown right now, so
peppers the sweet with spice. Even I (a sometimes fantastically
over-sentimental soul) could understand why the film makes certain moves
towards the flip-side of fairy tales, undertaking manoeuvres I can’t illustrate
any clearer for, again, fear of spoiling the surprise.
So: a glorious ear-worm of a soundtrack, astounding visuals,
unfairly loveable stars and a surprisingly textured narrative…I think that just
about covers it! Wait, there’s a ‘Take on Me’ cover, too? Complete with Gosling
passive-aggressively plinking a keytar? Sod it, take your five stars and get
out of here; you’re already too good for 2017 as it is.
P.S. Please don’t actually go, we need you. Badly.
