Movie: La La Land

I agree with Captain Manvel’s recommendation of La La Land. I found this movie/musical to be very enjoyable and very unlike most modern Hollywood movies. 

The situation in the movie revolves around two idealistic value-driven artists–one a musician, the other an actress–trying to achieve in modern Los Angeles. Each faces their own trials where they must choose to pursue their dreams or discard, modify, or sacrifice them to be more conventional. 

Several times in the movie placing what others think above one’s own dreams is condemned. My favorite line was probably “LA worships everything, but values nothing” and another about seeing the passion in others as attractive. Indeed, the two main characters nurture and ultimately strengthen each other’s passion. 

Thematically, I would say the movie emphasizes relentless value-pursuit as the key to happiness, as well as the important role all who are equally passionate about their values can have to one another.

/sb

Re: Amesh Adalja’s post 116994 of 12/30/16

Both “La La Land” and “Whiplash” were written and directed by Damien Chazelle.  I read that his next movie will be about Neil Armstrong.  I’m going! 

Thanks, Captain Manvel

*sb

Re: Amesh Adalja’s post 116994 of 12/30/16

I second the recommendations of “La La Land” (I’ve seen it twice and am looking forward to more). It’s a huge pleasure to experience — and it’s also thought-provoking, in ways that are not easy to discuss without spoilers. 

/sb

(I hope this is not a spoiler but its opposite.  I think I would have enjoyed the movie more if I had known this before.  Feedback please.)

“La La Land” is NOT a Musical

While watching “La La Land” I found myself wondering why some have been more positive about it than I felt.  I have come to realize that it was a matter of unmet expectations: I expected a musical, and was presented with a drama.

Movies (and stage productions) are selective recreations of reality. A particular genre is determined by the particular aspects of the reality recreated. Science fiction features some aspect of currently non-existent or even impossible science, such as imaginary inventions or time travel. Westerns (and other period pieces) set their dramas in particular historic eras, with varying degrees of historical accuracy. No matter how fantastical any aspect of a production, the audience suspends its disbelief and takes it as a part of the selective reality being recreated.

The fantastical elements of musicals (singing and dancing in a non-normal context) are part of the reality being recreated. Javert’s singing while jumping to his death is real in “Les Mis.” Sinners singing “Sit down, you’re rockin’ the boat” is real to the audience of “Guys and Dolls.” In reality Founding Fathers did not “rap” at each other but in “Hamilton” they do.

With the opening sequence of “La La Land,” where drivers in a traffic jam got out and sang and danced (instead of the usual normal expressions of road rage), I felt: “Aha, this is a bit over the top but it’s OK because this is a musical.” I felt the same in scenes when lovers danced in the stars.

But in the final sequence I had to face a contradiction between the selective reality I thought was created by the musical elements and what was dramatized in the rest of the film. And that was very unsatisfying.

I would have to see the movie again but I think that all the musical aspects of the film were in the imagination of one character, the budding writer and actress played by Emma Stone. In retrospect that integrates the movie for me.

So the musical elements of “La La Land” were not part of its recreated reality but only in the mind of a character.  And that is why the movie is a drama, not a musical.

/sb

Re: Talbot Manvel’s post 15350 of 12/28/16

SPOILER ALERT, but I want to warn those who haven’t seen this movie that it does not have a happy ending. I thought the movie was okay up until the “twist” ending, where the writer-director deliberately subverts the expectations he set up. As if he were saying, “Is this what you want? Too bad! Some times things just don’t work out! That’s life!” I found the ending totally arbitrary and gratuitous. It really left a bad taste in my mouth. Overall I would have preferred not to see the movie for that reason and I don’t want to watch it again. Up to that point it was pretty good but I found some of the conflicts to be arbitrary. The writer-director seems to use the musical numbers to be surreal for the sake of being surreal. Some of the themes are similar to “Whiplash,” but overall “La La Land” is not in the same league. I am convinced now that Damien Chazelle is very far from being an Objectivist, if there were ever any doubt.

/sb

Re: Brian McDaniel’s post 117404 of 1/27/17

SPOILER ALERT! I had the same thought while watching the final sequence, but I changed my mind when that sequence ended.

I think that in this last sequence, the director encapsulated the meaning of the whole film: achieving your goals in life is a value. He shows an alternative: what could have happened had the male protagonist valued their relationship more than his goals in life. That would have led to “and they lived happily ever after,” but he would have never achieved his goals – owning his own club and playing his kind of jazz. For me, the end when they look at each other while she is leaving his club – and he smiles, that’s underscoring the point, saying: I also achieved my dream and I am happy. 

I agree “Whiplash” was a better film, more concise, dramatic, and had more tension. This is a more relaxed film, but as far as I see they both have the same theme.

/sb

Re: Brian McDaniel’s post 117404 of 1/27/17

I do not think that “La La Land” had such a bad ending. In a fundamental sense both characters got what they wanted. I recommend seeing it.

/sb

Re: Ed Locke’s post 117359 of 1/29/17

Once again I want to warn of SPOILERS here for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie and still wants to.

I didn’t see evidence that Mia’s new husband is worthwhile. It looked like she just settled for a conventional life. The new man is not even her old boyfriend, who naturally wouldn’t take her back. The new man is a complete cipher. All I could see about him was that he was handsome and apparently wealthy. I had no evidence of his character at all. He’s not even a real character, just some guy. At the very end there is indication that she isn’t so happy with her new life. And then the movie just ends! Which I found abrupt and jarring. To me it was like Mia gave up on love and greater values for a boring conventional life. It sure looked boring to me from the outside.

But a mixed product like this is open to interpretation. Parts of this movie seem to reflect my sense of life and several other parts clashed with my sense of life. The biggest clash was the ending. I recently saw part of “The Adventures of Robin Hood” with Errol Flynn. I haven’t seen the whole movie yet, but what I saw was Robin Hood sure that he was right and knowing he has the ability to win. He beats tons of bad guys, defeats the villain and gets the girl, and most of the time seems to be having a ball doing it. That’s living life to the hilt. It’s not too deep or intellectual, but that’s the kind of story that reflects my sense of life, not “La La Land.” Even a relatively quiet story like “The World’s Fastest Indian” is preferable to “La La Land,” especially the ending. Think about it.

But of course, I can’t directly change my sense of life, let alone someone else’s. I wanted to warn potential viewers about the direction this movie goes. I haven’t seen “Hidden Figures” yet but I suspect I’m going to prefer it, just based on the story.

/sb

SPOILER ALERT:

I went to see “La La Land” with the thought that I would see something lighthearted & fun. Being a former dancer and fan of 1950s musicals, I got good vibes from the trailers.

Everything was going well starting right from the opening number. Boy-meets-girl love story, though more like teenage love. Both are talented and both inspire and encourage the other to pursue their goals. Mia’s (Emma Stone) final audition was an amazing piece of acting. The dancing quality wasn’t terrific but it portrayed a benevolent emotion that worked to strengthened their romance. The music was good. All was going OK.

There were some strange out-of-place scenes, such as the one at the planetarium. It was fun and lighthearted but seemed to be a weak integration to the storyline. I also liked the homage to “An American in Paris” dance sequence, but it didn’t seem to integrate into the story very well.

Then this potentially fun lighthearted movie just starts to fall apart. It begins with this out-of-the-blue altruist nod, when Sebastian (Ryan Gosling) was arguing to Mia about why he wasn’t pursuing his dream of saving jazz and opening his own bar. Protesting that he was touring with his old band because that’s what he thought she (Mia) wanted him to do–make a living with a regular unfulfilling job. This was not what she wanted at all for him and was not the strong passionate value-driven man he was portrayed as in the beginning. He could have argued to Mia that he had decided to tour with the band to earn some money and show off his musical skills as the means to eventually financing his jazz bar. How else would he do it? It didn’t seem that he had any kind of following.

Anyway, we are left with a mealy, resigning conversation about whether they could pursue their separate careers staying together or whether they would split up. One started to wonder if they really did love each other.

Flash forward several years and we find them living lives apart from each other. She is a star and seems happy with her husband and children and has forgotten Sebastian entirely, not even knowing that he had opened his own successful jazz bar in the same city in which she lived. We are then shown, in dream sequences, them pining over what could have been, how it might have been possible that they could have pursued their separate careers while also staying together and happy.

This movie is typical modern naturalistic tripe dressed as 1950s gay musical. One is led to believe that this would have a happy benevolent ending but instead, it leaves us with a malevolent theme that one must expect sorrow and defeat because one must sacrifice a high value to obtain a high value. And not through any real thoughtful deliberation or real world obstacles getting in their way, but rather just through a lack of any commitment or fight for their values.

/sb

Damien Chazelle had a similar theme in “Whiplash.” There is a chord in the beginning of the movie that draws one in: that hard work, passion and focus, despite obstacles, are the way to your goals and values.

But that wasn’t this movie’s theme. The theme was: painful suffering and second-hand motivation are the only way to achieve your goals and values.

Andrew (very well played by Miles Teller) is portrayed as an obsessive, manic, mean-spirited young man who seems to think that the only one who can help him realize his goal, his Charlie Parker legacy (“I’d rather die drunk, broke at 34 and have people at a dinner table talk about me, as being the greatest musician of the 20th century (according to whom?), than live to be rich and sober at 90 and nobody remembered who I was”), is a violent, demeaning, wicked music teacher and manic, painful, bloody drum practices and a second-handed motivation that he will be talked about as being a great drummer.

/sb

Re: Sam Axton’s post 117427 of 1/29/17

Spoilers continue.

Sam Axton wrote:

This movie is typical modern naturalistic tripe dressed as 1950s gay musical. One is led to believe that this would have a happy benevolent ending but instead, it leaves us with a malevolent theme that one must expect sorrow and defeat because one must sacrifice a high value to obtain a high value.

There are two questions the movie provides clear answers to, both related to the issue of malevolence/benevolence:

1. Is it possible to achieve one’s dreams? The answer is yes.

The main characters don’t spend their time fantasizing about getting married and living out the rest of their lives together. And they choose what kind of life they want to have, and they choose the values that are more important to them. If benevolent romanticism means art that depicts values as being achievable, and man as being possessed of free will, this story qualifies.

2. Is it worth it? Again, the movie clearly demonstrates that it is. Even if the main characters don’t get everything they wanted, they still achieve their life purpose, and at the end when they silently recognize each other’s life success, I think it’s clear that it was all worth it to them. This is a story with a profound theme.

So, if achieving one’s dream can be that important to someone, and the achievement of the dream is possible through one’s choices, and if the one who achieves lives a rewarding life, the world really starts to seem like a good place to live.

I think that “La La Land” is a great work of art, and I don’t say that lightly. But having said that, I’m surprised that something so great could have come out of Hollywood, so if anyone has arguments that explain how it’s not as great as I think it is, I would like to hear them.

/sb

Re: Sam Axton’s post 117427 of 1/29/17

I thought that I learned decades ago not to debate about movies on the Internet. I will make an exception for “La La Land.” I don’t think the movie was perfect; there are definitely places where the plot seems to drag (like the Planetarium scene). If people don’t like this movie, I don’t think I’m going to convince them to change their mind. I just want to point out a couple of things that I think Objectivist critics have overlooked. (Spoilers ahead.)  

Mr. Axton says that when Sebastian starts touring to make money, because this is what he thought she wanted him do, this is an “altruist nod.” I don’t get this point because the writers clearly disapprove of his decision! The film is all about the importance of pursuing one’s dreams, and he is, at this stage, giving up on his dreams. 

Good drama requires conflict. Characters are faced with difficult choices: should he give up his dream for the girl he loves, or the reverse? Mia faces the same choice. But if she could have figured out a way to pursue her acting career at the end without giving up her relationship with Sebastian, that would have been a nice way for things to work out in real life, but it would have been really bad drama, and incredibly boring. 

This film dramatizes its theme through conflict. The theme is the importance of pursuing one’s dreams. The theme is dramatized when each character must make a choice between their dreams and their romance. Note that this is an especially good conflict, because romance is a particularly high value (second only to career).

In the end, Sebastian realizes that he was giving up his dream by touring with the band, so he quits and starts his club. (We see this first illustrated after Mia leaves and he is playing a wedding event instead.) He also realizes that if he maintains the relationship he will stop Mia from pursuing her dream. She realizes this too and they both agree to go their separate ways. 

In light of this, I think Mr. Axton is entirely missing the point of the dream sequence. He thinks it is about how the two of them could have stayed together while pursuing their dreams. Definitely not! Mia imagines going to Paris to do the movie with Sebastian in tow. Sebastian ekes out a few gigs at Paris jazz clubs but is then engulfed by domestic life. We see him raising the kids, contentedly enough, but that’s it. The coup de grace is at the end, when they enter the jazz club together at the end. He is sitting next to her . . . and some stranger is sitting on the stage of the club. The point, I take it, is that if he had followed her, he could NOT have achieved his dream! 

So I also agree with Ed Locke: because of this decision, both of the characters get what they fundamentally want in the end. She is a successful actress and he has the club he’s always dreamed of. Now they’ve had to give something up in exchange for this, they’ve had to make a choice. Obviously giving up a great love is painful, but when they smiled, we knew they weren’t acrimonious, that they still wished each other well, that the pain only went down to a certain point. That is pure benevolent universe, and I thought the most beautiful part of the film. And, since it’s the result of making choices under conflict, I think that this is real (if imperfect) romantic drama, very far from “naturalist tripe.”

The romanticism doesn’t come from the singing and dancing, it comes from the choices made in the face of a conflict of values. 

/sb

I strongly disagree with the attacks on this movie. It is arbitrary to say that she settled for a conventional life. We do not know anything about the husband other than he seems like a nice person and that she seemed to have a happy family. Nor do I see any malevolence. It is not uncommon for people to have fantasies of what might have been. Most people have these. But it does not follow that these fantasies would have worked out. The important thing in the movie to me was that after terrible struggles (psychological and otherwise) both pursued what they really wanted in their careers and both encouraged the other and/or pushed the other to not give up. And both succeeded. The movie does not make it clear just why they did not end up together, which would have helped but it could have been that they were just absorbed in their own careers and made that a primary.

/sb

Benjamin says; “The romanticism doesn’t come from the singing and dancing, it comes from the choices made in the face of a conflict of values.” With all due respect, I know Romanticism and this story was not romantic. This was a slice-of-life of two ordinary people who meet, realize they are not for each other, go their separate ways and become successful. Yes, they inspire each other. Who doesn’t encourage the other when you think you’re in love? Nothing special here, it happens every day. It was just superficially dressed up with acting and music and dancing to make one think, initially, that it was special, bigger than life, that it was going to be a romantic story.

There was no love, there were no difficult choices, there was no real conflict in this story. Obviously, Mia was able to pursue her dream as an actress and get married and have children. We have no idea how Sebastian started a jazz club without any personal resources, but we saw no struggle, no conflicts there. It doesn’t matter much to the plot as I can see, other than it was his goal and he got there. Also, there is no reason why Sebastian touring should have stopped him from staying with Mia. It may have been more difficult but not by far a relationship ender.

Romanticism is a portrayal of the pursuit of values, a heroic pursuit of values against dramatic conflicts and formidable obstacles. He gave up his pursuit of Mia because of what, that they wouldn’t be in the same town all of the time? I think she gave him up because he was a putz. He didn’t understand why she loved him and she saw that he didn’t understand when he said to her that he gave up his jazz-club dream because he thought she wanted him to. (But I repeat myself.) I’m not sure why he fell out of love with her. Maybe it was because she gave up too easily on her acting dreams. But, regardless, they were never in love or they fell out of love.

I said before that this was a young immature love, not a grown-up kind of love. That’s not a bad thing but I just wanted to keep it in perspective. This wasn’t Cora and Hawkeye. 3/4s of this story was spent showing these two beginning to fall in love with each other and then they gave it up, not because of extraordinary circumstances or obstacles, but because they didn’t fight for it, because they couldn’t rearrange their schedules, because ultimately, they just didn’t want it. They didn’t love each other, they didn’t value each other. Not in a romantic way. But, again, the writer/ director spent most of the movie developing this love story.

Sure, you could say that they found out who each other was and simply fell out of love. That happens in real life. One can have many relationships that don’t flower into a romantic one. But why, I say, write a story about it and then dash it with little more than a yawn between them?

If it needs to be said, I’m only criticizing the movie. There is much involved in a person’s response to art. This is not an attack on anyone’s values, just a criticism of a movie I didn’t like. 

/sb

Re: Sam Axton’s post 117427 of 1/29/17

Spoilers continue.

I must say I’m having a lot of difficulty understanding how some of these conclusions were reached.

Let’s start with this one: 

Sam Axton wrote:

There was no love, there were no difficult choices, there was no real conflict in this story.

So, the movie spends lots of time developing the love between these characters, they declare their undying love for each other before parting, and at the end they fantasize about the life they would have had had they chosen differently, but there was not really any love and the choice wasn’t difficult?

It was claimed earlier that this story ends with:

a malevolent theme that one must expect sorrow and defeat because one must sacrifice a high value to obtain a high value.

And yet there wasn’t really a love of great value to be sacrificed? What’s going on here?

Next: 

This was a slice-of-life of two ordinary people who meet, realize they are not for each other, go their separate ways and become successful.

What, precisely, do you take to be ordinary about these characters? Sebastian is a fanatical artistic purist who is tortured by the lifeless music he has to play in order to make his living. Mia is an extraordinary acting talent who repeatedly sets herself up for heartbreak at the hands of mindbogglingly inattentive casting directors.

Do you think that extraordinary heroes never have doubts? Never question the direction in which their life is going? Or do you think that dramatizing that in a movie doesn’t illustrate the nature of what a heroic life is like?

Next, I’ll admit that the issue of the movie not clearly showing why the two main characters don’t end up together is a difficulty for this movie. There are a few different theories floating around about how to approach it, but the simplest explanation, which is explicit in the movie, is that the dreams they had set out for were too all-consuming to allow for them to divide their passion between their dreams and each other.

This plot turn is made possible by the sheer scale of the obstacles they face in their career aspirations. There are times when the obstacles seem insurmountable. Do you really see them as having given up on on their relationship “not because of extraordinary circumstances or obstacles”?

Now, personally, I am of the opinion that romantic love can fuel a person to achieve on a greater scale than he or she could have otherwise. Therefore, I’m sympathetic to the argument that they should have figured out some way to stay together.

However, more fundamentally, there is a crucial issue here on the subject of how individuals choose a life for themselves. What level of importance would you ascribe to the issue of pursuing one’s productive purpose? For people who’ve identified a career passion—a dream as depicted in this movie—do you just fit that in with whatever else you have going on? No. This is the central organizing principle of one’s whole life. All the other things have to be built around this.

And here we have dramatized for us, the ultimate form of choosing that kind of life, along with a recognition of the profoundly rewarding and meaningful life that it is.

/sb

Re: Benjamin Bayer’s post 117445 of 1/31/17

This movie is now one of my favorites. It has reminded me of Ayn Rand’s short story “Good Copy,” because it showed, rather than explained, the experience of enjoying life.

SPOILERS BELOW

The movie is not about love, it is about love of life. But, when people are happy, they express it so romantically. The dancing scenes primarily communicate not that the two are falling in love, but that each of them is enjoying life.

The two characters weren’t ready for a serious relationship. And Sebastian showed that quite explicitly in the beginning, when not pursuing an attractive girl. After all, how can two people deeply love each other, if they haven’t conquered themselves? Recall the quote from “The Fountainhead”,

Before you can say “I love you,” you must be able to say the “I.”

About the plot, I second Benjamin’s review, and agree with his observation:

But if she could have figured out a way to pursue her acting career at the end without giving up her relationship with Sebastian, that would have been a nice way for things to work out in real life, but it would have been really bad drama, and incredibly boring. 

I will also add that the closing sequence, and particularly the last smile, is a realistic and powerful way to end the story. It says that they are happy for each other. Not all romantic relationships end in a marriage, but that doesn’t make them worthless.

Remember Dagny and Francisco of “Atlas Shrugged.” Their relationship was also naturally expected in their process of growing up, discovering how things work, and enjoying life. Yet, their paths eventually diverged. 

Just like Francisco had to let Dagny go, it was wise, proper, and brave for Sebastian to let Mia go when he realized that he would be holding her back. It was up to Mia to return to Sebastian, if she wanted to. But, in their “new” life, both Mia and Dagny fell in love again, and did not return.

It is safe to assume that Mia’s husband is someone she loves greatly. But, that doesn’t mean that she would be completely indifferent to Sebastian. In fact, this kind of dynamic is seen in other of Ayn Rand’s character pairs: Kira and Andrey in “We the Living” and Joan and Kareev in “Red Pawn.”

My biggest criticism of this movie is the choice of the theme music, played by Sebastian. The music is not jazz, but is in the genre of Frank Sinatra. This goes in stark contrast to what Sebastian stands for, of being a pure jazzist.

/sb

Re: Brian McDaniel’s post 117424 of 1/29/17

I fall in the camp of those who found little of value in “La La Land.” As we left the theater and looked at each other, my wife said, “It didn’t add up.” I said, “Exactly.”

But I won’t go into the many, many technical weaknesses of the film. I will only say that I find it shocking that on this site, devoted to the philosophy of Ayn Rand, who described the essence of femininity as “man-worship,” a film would be praised and described as “romantic,” “benevolent,” etc., which in its opening scene shows the leading lady giving the finger to the man with whom she will later develop a romantic relationship.

This is typical of today’s Hollywood, and it is impossible after an opening gesture of that kind that the movie can be redeemed. It is a vulgar little detail wherein the director brazenly tells the viewer “this is my sense of life.”

I suggest that those who found this movie uplifting re-read (or read for the first time) Ayn Rand’s brilliant essay “Our Cultural Value-Deprivation” (reprinted in Ayn Rand, The Voice of Reason), in which she says, “A peculiarity of certain types of asphyxiation – such as death from carbon monoxide – is that the victims do not notice it: the fumes leave them no awareness of their need of fresh air. The specific symptom of value-deprivation is a gradual lowering of one’s expectations.”

It is inconceivable that a movie of the thirties or forties (or even, God help us, the fifties) would have a leading lady make that gesture to her leading man. Yet today most people (I do not mean those on HBL) apparently regard this tawdry little spiritual crumb as amusing. If you watch those older movies, you see leaping from the screen what Ayn Rand was describing. Scores of actresses embodied it: Garbo, Hepburn (K.), Harlow, Stanwyck, Gaynor, Young, Dunne, Bergman, O’Hara, Hayes are some of them (though not in every movie, of course). It shows in their eyes, in the tilt of their head, in their body language. It shows in the way they speak to the men they love. It is sometimes subtle, sometimes overt.

Today’s woman on the screen treats her man as an “equal,” or an inferior (and he often is). She treats him as a dysfunctional misfit (and he often is). However she regards her man, it is not with worship. Her finger says it all.

/sb

Re: John Pattillo’s post 117587 of 2/9/17

I will only say that I find it shocking that on this site, devoted to the philosophy of Ayn Rand, who described the essence of femininity as “man-worship,” a film would be praised and described as “romantic,” “benevolent,” etc., which in its opening scene shows the leading lady giving the finger to the man with whom she will later develop a romantic relationship.

I’m having trouble understanding the root of this complaint. Why would the audience’s standards of femininity be insulted by a scene from before there’s any indication that the pair will be together? Ayn Rand’s view of “man worship” doesn’t imply that every individual man ought to be the object of feminine worship. And it’s not like she continues to flip him off for the rest of the movie.

In terms of the view of romance exhibited in classic films, I don’t think you can say that they had the same view as Ayn Rand’s. And even if they did, that doesn’t make those films the eternal mold in which every future great film must be cast. If there were something lacking in those films, that doesn’t mean they weren’t great, and if there’s something lacking in this one, that doesn’t mean that it’s not great.

The essence of the issue is a matter of principles, and as a matter of principle, I don’t think you can make a case that Mia’s love of Sebastian lacked admiration. Certainly not based on anything from before they knew anything about each other.

The wrong approach would be looking at the great works of the past and trying to find resemblance between the old and the new. If the new work has anything to offer, it will be in those respects that are unlike anything that has come before.

In the sphere of novels, Ayn Rand herself depicted many situations the mere suggestion of which would have left past readers shocked and disturbed. A female engineer would be viewed as comical. A woman who, the morning after sleeping with her lover, informs him that she has married a man she doesn’t admire, would be viewed as an abomination.

Now certainly, there are objective standards to apply to art, but those standards involve taking the work in context, understanding how the elements fit together in service to a unifying theme. So if the gesture occurs before there’s any suggestion of romance, that makes a big difference in terms of what issues are at stake. 

/sb

Re: Evan Graessle’s post 117608 of 2/10/17

Although it is true that femininity “doesn’t imply that every individual man ought to be the object of feminine worship,” it does imply that a woman’s basic attitude toward the male is respect for his masculine qualities (if he has any!) and a kind of metaphysical attitude toward the male in general, due to the potential inherent in his being male. That most definitely rules out giving him the finger.

In fact, it rules out giving another woman the finger. There is such a thing as feminine delicacy.

For a long time–maybe still–you couldn’t go to a movie with a feminine lead character who didn’t at some point punch a man in the face. That’s the disgusting legacy of the “femininist” movement.

As to unconventionality, and “playing against type,” remember that Ayn Rand loved the TV show “Charlie’s Angels,” whose three heroines were strong, active, and unconventional but highly feminine.

*sb

Re: Harry Binswanger’s post 117628 of 2/11/17

… a woman’s basic attitude toward the male is respect for his masculine qualities (if he has any!) and a kind of metaphysical attitude toward the male in general, due to the potential inherent in his being male. That most definitely rules out giving him the finger.

In fact, it rules out giving another woman the finger. There is such a thing as feminine delicacy.

If this is true, then the issue is not a woman’s attitude toward the male, but the fact that giving the finger, as such, is not a feminine act.

But even so, does femininity rule out every act that does not itself reflect femininity? Can’t a woman be feminine and delicate in nature without this being reflected in every moment and every action? Some of the concrete actions of “Charlie’s Angels” were, in my view, neither delicate nor feminine — they punched, kicked, shot, wrestled and karate-chopped men and women alike — yet, these women projected femininity in basic character and orientation.  

It seems to me that concrete actions, such as giving the finger, have to evaluated in context. One can’t say, a priori, “X is not a feminine action, therefore a feminine woman cannot do X.” To me this is like saying: X is a vulgar word, therefore no decent man can say X.

*sb

Re: Harry Binswanger’s post 117628 of 2/11/17

Symbols are not realistic, but they are part of what makes romantic art. The finger is a symbol of challenge, sort of like Dominique’s whip. It is not realistic, because it is not meant to be.

*sb

Re: Harry Binswanger’s post 117628 of 2/11/17

In fact, it rules out giving another woman the finger. There is such a thing as feminine delicacy.

For a long time–maybe still–you couldn’t go to a movie with a feminine lead character who didn’t at some point punch a man in the face. That’s the disgusting legacy of the “femininist” movement.

I think you could make a good argument that standards of femininity, and consequently standards of feminine characterization, have fallen over the last seven decades. I take John Pattillo’s comment on “Cultural Value Deprivation” very seriously, but at the same time, in interpreting fiction, you have to take the work on its own terms, without importing a nuanced theory of gender roles beyond anything the intended audience would have been expected to bring with them into the theater.

The middle finger scene is intended as part of Mia’s characterization, but this movie wasn’t released in the 1940s, and if the language of characterization has changed to such an extent that now the audience is expecting her to commit assault and battery at the drop of a hat, this scene can’t be taken as pushing the envelope in that direction. That’s not the kind of significance the audience could be expected to draw from seeing this.

I think an important part of the context for interpreting this scene is the setting. People yelling at each other and giving each other the finger inside of a sit-down restaurant isn’t the same as doing so from behind the quasi-anonymity of a steering wheel on a Los Angeles highway, where such gestures seem to be the common currency of the realm. A woman who gives someone the finger in that context might not be viewed as any less feminine than a New York pedestrian who slaps her hand against the hood of an encroaching vehicle (or whatever peculiarity is common among New York women these days).

Certainly one could argue that classic films are superior in this respect or in others, and I agree that the issue of feminine characterization is important for this film because of its role in giving the audience an appreciation for the value represented by the romance depicted, but I don’t see how discussion of the middle finger scene is getting us any closer to understanding the artist’s evident sense of life.

What’s the case being made here? That this movie is just the same as all the other mediocre modern movies? And is that case best made by drawing as many similarities as we can between this film and mediocre modern ones?

To reiterate, I think the resemblances-approach is too superficial, and takes us further away from discussing things in principle, and brings us closer to drawing up concrete-bound rules about what elements should and shouldn’t be included in a work of fiction.

/sb

Re: Sam Axton’s post 16177 of 2/12/17

Spoilers below.

Sam Axton wrote:

I read that this was a “great” movie for you Evan and that you thought the characters and their actions were heroic. But no matter how effusively you say they were, it simply wasn’t objectively portrayed that way. There wasn’t an effort by the director to portray them as heroic. They weren’t bad characters at all, just kind of normal everyday people struggling to achieve happiness. Recount for me a scene in which they were portrayed as the heroes you describe.

I’m more than happy to do so. Let’s start off with Sebastian. I must start with a brief description of what Sebastian values, because a character’s actions can be described as heroic only within the context of his particular values.

Sebastian is indeed an artistic purist, and this is explicit in the film. He loves his particular kind of jazz, and he goes into detail over how expressive and unique jazz performances are. His dream centers around creating a space for himself to perform that particular kind of music. He has worked to attain a level of mastery of his craft, a talent he continues to hone through obsessive listening and re-listening to various recordings.

And he values not only his own dream, but also dreams in general. When he discovers Mia’s dream, he focuses on it, finding ways to express support for it, like finding old movies for her to research and reading her play.

So, that’s the starting point. I don’t think anyone here would claim that Sebastian doesn’t hold values. The issue of contention is whether his actions and broader characterization in the movie qualify as heroic.

In terms of initial characterization, if you watch Sebastian making his living, pursuing his dream, I do not know how it could be described as anything other than a heroic struggle. If you know that it’s his dream to play free jazz, and that’s his passion, and the only thing he wants to be doing, and you watch him caress the piano keys in between the sets of canned, soulless music he’s being paid to play, you can sense the unbearable suffering he must bear, to force his fingers to go through the motions his dream requires, rather than to play what he dreams of playing. And a conflict of that kind can only last so long, and at last he has to play his own music, and you see what it means to him to be able to play it.

Having an extraordinary soul is a precondition for even being able to be in a situation like that. The willingness to submit himself to that torture, when it seems like the best or fastest way to achieve his dream is part of what it means for a struggle to be heroic.

Now as a matter of concrete life advice, I don’t personally recommend taking the path he was on at the beginning. He gets fired immediately, and you can see that the torture session didn’t accomplish much. But the significance of the scene is about the extent he is willing to go for the sake of his dream, and I think you will find that heroic individuals frequently push themselves to their limits when their dream seems impossible.

And this dramatizes the simple fact that it’s always torture to love something, and need it, while being unable to have it. And this is true whether you’re working a day job unable to think of anything except the hours you’ll steal from sleeping and eating for a chance to write, or if you’re forcing your talents to work for a vision anathema to your own.

Now let’s shift to Mia’s characterization. In one of Mia’s first scenes we are shown the extraordinary power of her acting ability. We are warned in the first scene that she’s just reading from a script, and we know she’s going to an audition, but when we see her changes of expression, we think that something must have happened, but it turns out she is indeed that good of an actress. But then, all of a sudden, we are crushed by someone interrupting, having a quick conversation, as if to put Mia on pause to take care of something meaningless.

Multiply that by a hundred, and that’s the life Mia endures for the sake of her dream. It’s almost inconceivable—that the industry could be so indifferent to her talents. Mia and the audience are both haunted by the question of: what do they want? Why do they even bother to hold auditions, if they don’t pay attention? But she continues to persist, and she gets her heart broken again and again until she simply can’t do it anymore. And then she tries one more time, and becomes successful.

Is the life of an ordinary person comparable to this? If the trials endured by an everyday person to achieve their desires for ordinary, everyday things is a struggle, then the struggles of Sebastian and Mia are heroic struggles. If this was what was required to achieve everyday things, almost no one would graduate high school, get a job, or raise children to adulthood. I don’t see how the struggles of Mia and Sebastian could be described as ordinary struggles.

And now that I’ve defended the characters, let me defend the story. Both characters make a choice towards the end, upon which the entire story turns. And that choice is a heroic one, because they exhibit their willingness to dedicate themselves to their dreams, even if it means they must give up on continuing their relationship, even as they recognize their eternal love for each other. What they also recognize is that the demands of each of their careers can’t be fit together in the uncompromising way required by their dreams. Mia will have to go to Paris, and Sebastian can’t allow himself to be swept along with her, and Mia can’t stay in LA, because this is her chance, and she has to dedicate everything to it.

**Edit: The post this post was made in reply to no longer exists, hopefully the content will still be of some interest.

/sb

Re: Evan Graessle’s post 117648 of 2/13/17

To answer several of the comments in regard to my post re “La La Land”:

1. To Mr. Allard, “does femininity rule out every act that does not itself reflect femininity? Can’t a woman be feminine and delicate in nature without this being reflected in every moment and every action?” My answers are No and Yes. But we are not here discussing “femininity” in the real world, or “a woman” in the real world. We are discussing a character in a work of art, whose first gesture presented in the movie is the one under discussion. Every detail in a work of art is selected, meant and to be integrated (unless the artist wants to reveal himself as an incompetent). Dagny Taggart used profanities, but not vulgarities, and I am sure that Ayn Rand made that choice.

2. To Messrs. Graessle and Reed, I think the gesture means today exactly what it meant fifty years ago, and in fact has meant for a very long time. In trying to suggest that I am adhering to some old-fashioned standard of decency, you are overlooking the fact that the leftist counter-culture of the sixties injected a new and toxic infusion of profanity, obscenity and vulgarity into popular culture as a deliberate insult to “middle class values,” and is emblematic of their nihilism. That infusion has gone straight into the bloodstream of modern movies, where all of these assaults on civility are indeed now commonplace. I am sure that everyone here is accustomed to the obligatory “f-word,” the obligatory “urinating scene,” and that’s just scratching the surface.

That “La La Land” was actually pretty mild in regard to all of this again shows how low our expectations have now fallen: the gesture and the profanity were all totally unnecessary. They are in there in order for the director to show his credentials as a fellow lout to his Hollywood buddies and the critics who insist on this stuff.

If you don’t understand this please go read online reviews of the excellent movie “Hidden Figures” (which I also comment on in another post), which criticize that movie for being too “sanitized” and not “raw enough” in order to get a higher Code rating. So, in other words, for such people, not lacing a movie with vulgarities is a flaw.

To acquiesce to this, by saying, that’s just the modern sensibility and we should all get over it is not the choice I make in my life — neither in my own speech and behavior nor in my artistic preferences nor in my value responses.

3. Several respondents seem to take my comments as implying that I am generalizing about the entire movie from this one tiny detail. But I thought I made it clear that I was taking that one detail as corruptive of just one strand, namely the claim that this movie is “benevolent and romantic,” and I think that to be true.

4. As for the movie taken as a whole, as I said, I found little of value in it.

The movie was a very loosely-tied-together sequence of cinematic bits of this and that without a central integrating approach. The director was the kind who seemed to be just out of film school, eager to employ each and every technique he had learned there. Long shots, close-ups, wide shots, crisply focused shots, and fuzzy shots all followed each other in bewildering succession, and with utterly no reason. If the director had a cinematic purpose, he failed to realize it. The only thing one can say about such a product is “third rate.” It often suggests that the director is trying to bolster a weak script.

A camera’s constant motion is a tipoff that perhaps nothing significant is happening. Suddenly stopping the camera suggests that at last something significant will happen. It didn’t. The constant motion was a virtue when it came to the dance bits because neither lead could dance other than woodenly, so the camera’s motion helped conceal this. As for the singing, much has been written over the last fifty years about the horrifying deterioration of singing. The two leads are examples of the result of this. When singing loudly, Emma Stone could belt with some conviction (not appealing but at least then she stayed on key). But when she and Ryan Gosling sang mezzo voce or very softly, their voices fell off the vocal map and lost all tonality. Nor could Gosling even whistle on key, for heaven’s sake.

And finally for the ending: first, we see that the leads achieved their career dreams (or rather we see that he did, we infer that she did), while at the same time their romance was wiped out. Keep in mind that the romance was a major story element. As others here have noted, there is absolutely no explanation for the implied conflict between their careers and their romance. And she is utterly ignorant of what has happened to the man she supposedly loved; she does not know that he is the owner of a successful jazz club. In this age of instant communication – no letter, no email, no text, no smoke signals???  This is “their eternal love for each other”?  Then, from the set-up of her dream/fantasy sequence to the conclusion of it, her expression suggests an enormous repressed sorrow (we must assume regret at losing her love). It’s just impossible (and wishful thinking) to try to integrate these elements. The two leads’ final enigmatic smiles made one question whether or not the sorrow was real, which again led one to conclude, “It didn’t add up.”

A director who has the theme of his movie in focus from start to finish of the project does not leave his audience in such contradictory states of mind as is apparent from the comments on HBL (even if, as is often the case, many competent directors have only an implicit grasp of their theme). Even if a director has in mind to depict “loyalty to values,” or “the achievement of values,” that only gets him to the threshold of creating a romantic work of art. A certain minimum level of skill is necessary to get him past that threshold. I regret that Chazelle does not have that skill.

I also regret having to act as a squelcher of people’s obviously genuine enjoyment of a movie. I would not do that if people simply said in however many words the equivalent of “I enjoyed this movie,” or even “I enjoyed these aspects of this movie.” But as many of the comments were put as objective esthetic commentary, with which I seriously disagree, I think opposing views are not amiss.

/sb

Re: John Pattillo’s post 117673 of 2/13/17

There’s a tendency for one person to describe events and scenes in a movie the way he interprets them, and then another person offers a contrary interpretation of the same events and scenes. And this goes on and on, back and forth, talking past each other.

At some point, one has to get beneath the interpretations to why each person views it this way.

And finally for the ending: first, we see that the leads achieved their career dreams (or rather we see that he did, we infer that she did), while at the same time their romance was wiped out. Keep in mind that the romance was a major story element. As others here have noted, there is absolutely no explanation for the implied conflict between their careers and their romance.

Note that Evan and others did give explanations for the conflict. Why do you find their explanations unconvincing? This would need to be the focus of discussion.

You say that you needed to infer her success, but as indicated previously on this thread, this was made explicit. E.g., she goes back to the cafe where she used to work behind the counter, only now it is she who plays the role of the famous actress that she had admired earlier in the movie. It doesn’t get more explicit than this without dialogue stating: “She achieved her dream.”

So the question is: why don’t you find these scenes convincing?

Then, from the set-up of her dream/fantasy sequence to the conclusion of it, her expression suggests an enormous repressed sorrow (we must assume regret at losing her love). It’s just impossible (and wishful thinking) to try to integrate these elements.

Again, others have provided an alternative analysis of the dream sequence and see it as not only possible to integrate, but natural. Why must one assume regret? Why is the sorrow repressed? These are the questions that need discussion.

The two leads’ final enigmatic smiles made one question whether or not the sorrow was real, which again led one to conclude, “It didn’t add up.”

Why enigmatic? Others did not get the sense that “It didn’t add up.” For example:

Ben Bayer:

Obviously giving up a great love is painful, but when they smiled, we knew they weren’t acrimonious, that they still wished each other well, that the pain only went down to a certain point. That is pure benevolent universe, and I thought the most beautiful part of the film.

And Haim Schlesinger:

For me, the end when they look at each other while she is leaving his club – and he smiles, that’s underscoring the point, saying: I also achieved my dream and I am happy. 

So the question is: Why aren’t you convinced that these two people could experience sorrow at the loss of their romance, while simultaneously expressing love for each other and happiness that each has achieved their dreams?

/sb

Re: Jim Allard’s post 117692 of 2/14/17

I just watched “La La Land” for the second time, and I noticed something that I don’t believe has been mentioned in this thread. I hate to beat a dead horse, but here goes…

I think the minor character of Sebastian’s sister offers us a clue on the film’s theme.  Why did the director choose to include this character? What can we say about her? She doesn’t have a passionate dream like her brother. But she’s nice and is presented as more practical. She gets married and she achieves happiness.This is indicated at her wedding reception in which Sebastian is playing the piano. She is dancing with her new husband, and it is clear that she is very happy. There are indications that her marriage is going well because later in the film we see a Christmas card of her with her husband and their son displayed in Sebastian’s apartment.  

Why did Sebastian decide to end it with Mia? He stresses that after she is offered the part and travels to Paris, she’ll need to focus on her career. And he in turn needs to stay in LA and focus on his career. There’s just not room for their relationship.   

Now to the dream sequence. It’s not clear, but I don’t think that Mia achieves the same kind of dramatic career success in this alternative universe. Notice that the house in the dream is somewhat more humble than Mia’s actual house at the end of the film. I think both of their careers are secondary, and the focus is primarily on each other and their family. Notice how after Paris the rest of the dream is about their relationship and raising their family. Nevertheless, in this dream they are both happy. It’s just a different path to happiness. 

And that’s why I think the director chose to include Sebastian’s sister. I think he is saying that if you choose to focus primarily on relationships in life, that can lead to happiness. Alternatively, you can focus primarily on your career, which can also lead to happiness.    

I think the perfect happy ending to this film that the director is emotionally setting us up for is that Sebastian and Mia end up together while also achieving their career ambitions. But this is not what happens. I do think the movie suggests that there is some kind of a sacrifice in the choice to focus primarily on one’s career. Note that in the dream sequence there are no indications of regret. Sebastian does not look sad that his dream did not come true. However, at the very end of the film there is a little bit of sadness in Sebastian’s face as well as Mia’s. They experience a tinge of loss.    

You might argue that Sebastian and Mia simply traded in their relationship, which was a lesser value, for their careers, which was a greater value, so it doesn’t count as a sacrifice. However, if that is what the director was trying to say, we wouldn’t feel slightly hurt at the ending. Sure, Mia ends up with somebody great with whom she is clearly happy, but the director does not develop this character or his relationship with Mia in a way that convinces us that he is as great as Sebastian.

Although the theme suggests that focusing on your dreams will require real sacrifices that can’t be helped, it also is very clear that the choice to focus on your dreams while encouraging others to do the same is the heroic choice.  

Whatever its flaws may be, I think “La La Land” is a beautiful and wonderfully imaginative film. When Mia and Sebastian are walking around in the planetarium and he throws her into the air causing her to fly up into the stars, I lose it.

/sb

Re: Zachary Kauble’s post 118504 of 4/15/17

You might argue that Sebastian and Mia simply traded in their relationship, which was a lesser value, for their careers, which was a greater value, so it doesn’t count as a sacrifice. However, if that is what the director was trying to say, we wouldn’t feel slightly hurt at the ending.

I don’t see how it follows that if it wasn’t a sacrifice, there wouldn’t be any pain. Giving up a lesser value for a greater value doesn’t erase the emotions resulting from the loss of the lesser value.

The ending sequence conveyed sadness of love lost, happiness that they both achieved their dreams, and the conviction that they made the right choice. (The dream sequence showed that they wouldn’t have been able to live the life that they each wanted had they stayed together.)

Sure, Mia ends up with somebody great with whom she is clearly happy, but the director does not develop this character or his relationship with Mia in a way that convinces us that he is as great as Sebastian.

It’s irrelevant. The point is that Mia would not have the life that she wanted with Sebastian, whereas she did with her husband. And that’s what matters. 

/sb

Re: Jim Allard’s post 118630 of 4/25/17

I think the real issue is whether such a choice is necessary, in a metaphysical sense. The film is not about whether in this case, for these particular people, they had to give up a relationship to achieve greatness in their careers. It’s about whether such a choice is a fundamental issue of life.

If I might cheat a bit by bringing in Whiplash (by the same writer/director), I believe it echoes the same theme, but it is less striking because the main character is much younger. We get the sense that greatness requires supreme dedication, it requires grueling work. But we don’t get the sense that this will constitute the substance of the rest of the main character’s life. We don’t get the sense that his dedication to greatness means that serious relationships are off the table forever.

By contrast, consider Atlas. We don’t see Hank and Dagny trying to figure out how much longer they can continue their relationship before they have to scrape it off and move forward to career greatness. The idea that one must choose between career greatness and happiness in a relationship is not part of Rand’s artistic or philosophical universe. And since it isn’t, she would never build a story around an issue that she considered to be incidental—the kind of incident that might happen, but which has no broader significance. Damien Chazelle strikes me as similar in that respect. He is not the kind of artist who would make a film about a scheduling conflict. The point of La La Land is that you can be great, or you can have other things in your life, but not both. The sadness we experience at the end of the film comes from the degree to which the film is a coherent and effective artistic package.  

While I don’t agree with the movie’s view, I still enjoyed many aspects of it, because it presents the idea that greatness is important. It doesn’t just say it, but it makes you feel that it’s important. That is a worthwhile experience.

/sb

Re: Steve Rogers’ post 118643 of 4/25/17

The film is not about whether in this case, for these particular people, they had to give up a relationship to achieve greatness in their careers. It’s about whether such a choice is a fundamental issue of life. … The point of La La Land is that you can be great, or you can have other things in your life, but not both.

The film is about whether, in this case, for these particular people, they had to give up a relationship to achieve their career goals. This is the plot. The plot, however, is not the theme. The theme is the abstract message being concretized by the particulars of the plot.

One possible theme is: You can be great or have a relationship, but not both. I don’t agree that this is the theme, but why do we disagree? I think it involves the connection between plot and theme.

By contrast, consider Atlas.

The idea that one must choose between career greatness and happiness in a relationship is not part of Rand’s artistic or philosophical universe. And since it isn’t, she would never build a story around an issue that she considered to be incidental-the kind of incident that might happen, but which has no broader significance.

But Rand did build a story around a man who convinced a group of individuals to leave society and move to a private mountain hideaway. This is the plot. What is the broader significance? Maybe it’s that one must choose between one’s business and happiness. Or maybe it’s that one can live in society and have friends or move to a secluded area and be happy, but not both. Or maybe: the only way to avoid taxes is to go where they can’t find you. Or…

There’s no way to tell without understanding the nature of the conflict and resolution. The broader significance of the plot — i.e., the theme — is determined by the logic of the story. If one doesn’t see why the men of the mind were in conflict with the world and had to leave, one is left thinking that Atlas is about escaping “overregulation” or establishing a libertarian utopia.

Damien Chazelle strikes me as similar in that respect. He is not the kind of artist who would make a film about a scheduling conflict.

If one sees the central conflict as a mere “scheduling conflict,” this means that one is not convinced by the logic of the story that there is a meaningful conflict. Thus, one is left wondering what the broader significance of this “conflict” — i.e., the theme — could be. I.e., if there’s no clear reason why these two particular people had to give up their relationship, then why did the author include this? Maybe he’s saying that this is just the way things are — that it’s just a fundamental issue of life.

For some reason, a number of HBL’ers are not convinced by the logic of the story that these particular people had to give up their relationship. Thus, they are left wondering what principle can be drawn.

If, on the other hand, one sees the logic of the conflict in the particulars, one is not drawn to the universal theme, “all greatness requires giving up other things,” because one can see that the conflict comes from the particulars. In such a case, one sees the theme as: When a conflict arises between a higher value and a lesser value (as it did in this particular case), never sacrifice the former to the latter. Or: Don’t give up on your dreams, no matter what. 

The interesting question is: Why wasn’t it convincing? What would the author have had to include in order to make it convincing? This is what would need to be discussed.

/sb

Re: Jim Allard’s post 118658 of 4/26/17

I watched the film again, on BluRay.

“La La Land” is a wonderful counterpoint to a kind of lumpen-Romanticism found in, for example, “Elvira Madigan.” In “Elvira Madigan,” love is presented as a total self-sacrifice; allegedly in true love only the love matters and the self evaporates. “La La Land” is about two people who are each selfish in the best sense of the word – what non-Objectivists would call “self-actualizing.” This is the core of their love. If either gave up on their individual plans and goals, their love would be cheapened into something ordinary and pedestrian, as in the daydream sequence: “and then Elvira and Sixten lived happily ordinary lives in a little house in the suburbs.” La La Land ‘s theme is a love that remains perfect, because each keeps the integrity that they love in each other.

Sebastian’s decision is necessary, because he has total integrity: he honors his two-year contract to tour with his friend’s band, and earns the down payment on his own jazz club. If he were to break his contract and follow Mia to Paris, he would lose the integrity that Mia loves him for.

What is weak: No solos. There are songs, but they are disconnected from the character of the characters. And no song in the film is melodic enough to keep humming when the film is over.

/sb

Jim Allard said in post 17395 of 4/26/17

… why do we disagree? I think it involves the connection between plot and theme.

This might be true, but I’m not clear on how you’re getting the specific theme you propose: “When a conflict arises between a higher value and a lesser value, never sacrifice the former to the latter. Or: Don’t give up on your dreams, no matter what.” 

I agree generally with your point that the theme is “determined by the logic of the story”, but I would say that the artist ideally chooses all the elements based on the theme, so in analysis towards a theme, one considers the whole work. And I don’t see how one could say that the whole work is integrated around the theme you provide. If it were, then the artist would spend time dramatizing that conflict. Since you use Atlas as an example, let’s contrast the treatment of theme in the two works.

It isn’t a perfect comparison because a movie isn’t a book, but I think it’s close enough. As you say, if one doesn’t understand the nature of the conflict, one can’t understand the theme. But notice that the author of Atlas Shrugged doesn’t leave the nature of the conflict between the world and men of the mind implicit in the structure of the story. The author dramatizes this conflict. The author tells us the exact nature of the conflict from multiple perspectives. Every concrete conflict in the story reflects this wider theme. The characters talk about it. They tell us the exact nature of the conflict. Of course, people still don’t get it, but it’s there explicitly. We don’t have to speculate about the nature of the specific conflict, or infer it from a sequence of events.

Now consider, in contrast, how the conflict between relationship and career is presented in La La Land. There is initially no conflict. If anything there is camaraderie in their struggle, and fuel in the mutual visibility of their values. But things slowly fizzle and we come to understand that Sebastian has, in effect, sacrificed his values for the relationship. He did what he thought Mia wanted him to do. Mia’s respect for him is clearly diminished, and they part in this context with the future uncertain. We’re left wondering what will happen.

Then we’re bolted forward to the future, where we realize that they are not together, and the reason why is explained via montage. Notice that, in contrast to Atlas, this constitutes the choice not to dramatize this conflict. We don’t see them struggling over a long-distance relationship vs. him moving to Paris. We don’t see whether they tried to stay in touch, or just never communicated at all. We don’t see whether Sebastian could come to understand the nature of his mistake and stand on his own in the relationship. Those are the kinds of things that would constitute a dramatization of the conflict, and that is what would make this point believable, were it indeed the thematic point of the story. But instead of dramatization, we see a montage of alternate events. 

This has the effect of simply telling us that it wouldn’t work out. It gives us the result as a fact, in a manner similar to exposition, rather than showing us how it follows from the choices of the characters. We are simply shown that if Sebastian moved to Paris, then he would have sacrificed himself further. But we don’t experience that dramatically. We don’t see it as a choice made by the character, but rather as an inevitability. It’s the director’s way of saying that the details don’t matter.

Because of this approach, I disagree with your statement that:

The film is about whether, in this case, for these particular people, they had to give up a relationship to achieve their career goals. This is the plot.

This is not the plot of the movie. It’s not the sequence of events set in motion by their meeting, but rather the substance of the montage at the very end of the movie. And it’s by the choice of montage that the director says that this is not about Mia and Sebastian specifically, but about this kind of situation in principle. If it were about them specifically, then the writer/director would have dramatized their specific choices. But instead he chose a presentation style which says, “this is what would have happened, but the details don’t really matter.” If the artist wanted to make the point “don’t sacrifice”, then he would have dramatized that choice. But instead, what he dramatizes is that one of them, despite really knowing better, sacrifices himself to the relationship. 

Broadly, I agree with this:

If, on the other hand, one sees the logic of the conflict in the particulars, one is not drawn to the universal theme, “all greatness requires giving up other things,” because one can see that the conflict comes from the particulars.

but why would one say that the conflict lies in the particulars–that the particulars are what’s important–when the artist has chosen specifically to eliminate the particulars from the work?

Contrast this film with a more old-fashioned success story, say Rocky. The artist doesn’t spare us the fighter’s brutal struggle, but he also doesn’t spare us the sweetness of the victory. The “career” struggle is the most important thing and the relationship is secondary, yet we do not experience a conflict between them. Rocky does not present the hero’s journey as easy. There are many things he has to forego in the single-minded pursuit of his goal. But yet we’re left with nothing but a feeling of pure triumph in the end. Because the artist has guided our focus so as to say that the things foregone are not important. Chazelle, by contrast, guides our attention to the things given up. He doesn’t dramatize their career triumphs, or the nature of Mia’s new relationship. We see that they have them, but those are not the most important things. The most important thing is the relationship that was given up. That is why the movie feels the way it does, despite it’s many otherwise positive qualities.

I did not like La La Land. Even the title makes a mockery of happiness.

This is not my sense of life, and I struggled hard to finish it. When I was done, I felt like taking a shower to wash the stains off my soul. I did that by listening to some music I love, music that reminds me of work and achievements. Then I wrote some software to remind me that achievements are possible, and that happiness is real, not this mockery of happiness.

In my judgment, there is a continental river of sadness working as an undercurrent in the movie. The sadness is what is metaphysically real to the director. You can fight for values, and even achieve some values here and there, but in the end, you cannot have deep happiness. The sadness is real and permanent, the happiness is just surface deep, and mostly just imagined anyway.

You see this for example in the leitmotif that is played over and over: the protagonists meet as everything is going wrong, and this desperation is what binds them together.

Where are the hours at the study? Where’s the time they read books together, studying business, money, leadership skills? Where’s the cognitive effort?

Sorry if I hurt someone, but these people seemed like drifters to me. As if the essence of life is romance devoid of work and reason, and it’s mostly up to external factors if one succeeds or not. Well, it is, if one is living in a Platonic dimension where one lifts wishes above reality.

I have full respect for the fact that others might derive value from this artwork; their context might be very different from mine. But for what I’m trying to do with my life, this artwork was strongly antagonistic.

Welcome to La La Land, where happiness is found by flying weightless among the stars and skies, dancing away from reality.

/sb