There is no film like La La Land

Rating: 10/10 (19 December 2016)

The opening shot of La La Land shows us a jammed highway of Los Angeles on a (snowless and warm) winter morning. Almost as if caused by the evident claustrophobia, everyone exits their cars and, on cue, sings us their individual stories. This is Los Angeles, the land where dreams are made and destroyed. People hop on cars, dance in sync for miles and miles, and play instruments out in the open like nobody cares. Magnificent. This is what the rest of the movie's going to feel like.
Go back and read my first sentence again. I said "opening shot." Yes, the entire opening scene is one whole goshdanged shot. The entire movie is made out of long shots. Most of the time, longshots don't work well other than to show off some technical feat; they make you feel like you're holding your breath for an unnecessarily long time. On the other hand, La La Land's opening shot is like letting out a breath.
This shot sets up the chaotic atmosphere of the first meeting between Mia and Sebastian. But it's not how your typical friendship would start: Sebastian honks his horn at Mia with the what-the-heck look; Mia gives him the birdie and returns the what-the-heck look.
After that encounter we follow Mia around in her daily life. She's an employee at a café in a major studio's lot trying to make her big break in acting. Beginning with the incident on the highway, her day hasn't been going too well. And after a party that frustrates her more than enlivens her—a funless event that ends with her car being towed—she follows a wisp of beautiful piano music that drags her inside a bar where she encounters the pianist: Sebastian.
Here we jump back to their first encounter in the morning, but this time, instead of following Mia this time, we follow Sebastian and note his daily life, too. He's a jazz pianist struggling to pay his bills while his one job is in a bar playing boring Christmas songs that nobody wants to hear and he doesn't want to play. Then, in a feat of both emotional bravo and idiocy, he plays an unassigned piece, consequently getting him fired. Mia approaches him, but he violently brushes past her. It's like they were meant for each other but they don't think so.
The story's simple. Plot twist or surprises are lacking. It's a path that goes up and down the bumpy road of their lives. A guy and girl meet, but their careers make their relationship to struggle. Should they follow their dreams, or sacrifice their dreams to spend time with each other? The story builds(or descends, depends on how you look at it) in small episodes that lead the tension to a depressing finale. Each episode is a link in a chain, not a piece of a puzzle where the story calls back the earlier scenes for an important event.
The finale is surprising at first, but—think about it—it appears that the movie has been leading up to it the whole time—we just didn't see it coming because we hoped so much it wouldn't happen.
Director Damien Chazelle obsession with music is very evident, not only in the film but also within his career. His directorial debut was a musical much like La La Land; he made his sophomore product about a drummer and his violently dedicated band leader; he wrote a screenplay about a pianist who has to play a concert perfectly or else. Through his dedication that soaks through this dream project, La La Land soars beautifully.
Justin Hurwitz, Chazelle's college roommate, composes a score so vibrantly rooted in the old musicals yet engrained with that modern 21st- century intensity (he had supposedly sent 1,900 piano demos to Chazelle before settling on... six songs). This is a guy to keep an eye out for.
There is no film like La La Land. Thinking revolutionary like Les Miserables? Or bombastic like West Side Story? Or oddly magical like Wizard of Oz?
This is the best way I can put it: it's all the great movie musicals and romances you have seen, but, at the same time, it's not. Though it borrows heavily from almost every classic, it is unique in its entirety. Don't miss this movie. Some of you probably heard me quote this paragraph from The New Yorker's Anthony Lane, and I can't stress it enough:
"Catch the film on the largest screen you can find, with a sound system to match, even if that means journeying all day. Have a drink beforehand. And, whatever you do, don't wait for a DVD or a download. The mission of this movie will be fulfilled only if it is seen by those—especially kids—  who may not know what busy thrills can bloom, without recourse to violence, from the simplest things."
You won't have another chance to see it in theaters until—maybe—it's rereleased into theaters in a couple years. But by then, it'll be too late and regret will not be enough to compensate your missed opportunity.