The Real LaLa Land

Don't pay attention to the dancing beauties; your first clue this is a fantasy is the idea of available street parking. 

Do I ever review films? Do I even see them on a regular basis? Well, no, but I have a few things I'd like to say about "LaLa Land" as I think it's becoming a sort of lighthouse beacon, inspiring aspiring actors and actresses from all over the world to move to Los Angeles and try and become the kind of person that TMZ is interested in following,  no, of course I mean that hones their artistic craft and becomes admired for it.

The City of The Angels is singing its siren song again, something it does every few years when some lucky soul who did come to LA and strike it rich decides to make everyone else think they can, too.

First of all, I want to start by saying that, as a native Angeleno, I did actually really like "LaLa Land," mainly because it was such an affectionate send-up of my hometown -- restaurants, architecture, neighborhoods, all of which are familiar icons of my childhood. My one complaint about the movie was its completely and utterly unrealistic view of show business, and of course, Los Angeles itself. 

In the movie, both the hero and heroine become successful entertainers, cashing in on their talents to the fullest by the time the film ends. The only problem is that this isn't how things usually happen in the real LaLa Land. So in reality, what might more realistically have happened to our romantic pair?  

Second clue: lack of traffic (and jumpers) on Suicide Bridge in Pasadena at rush hour.

Sebastian, our jazz piano player hero (portrayed by Ryan Gosling), might possibly have found good work...as a studio musician, providing he kept up with his union dues and his industry connections, which he seemed to have. He would have been supplying piano riffs in things like McDonald's commercials, industrial videos and recordings of all kinds. A regularly paying gig is a coveted nirvana for most LA musicians who have been around for any length of time, and they tend to count their blessings if they're working regularly, no matter what kind of music it is they are playing. Work is work.

 Mia, our actress heroine (played by Emma Stone), might have ended up working in administration for Warner Brothers, or maybe just managing the coffee kiosk where she had been working. She would have done secretarial temping, waitressing, and catering to pay her bills until a combination of age and burnout sent her into more regular employment, as audition opportunities dwindled. 

Don't believe me? Watch Turner Classic Movies sometime and pay close attention to the closing credits, for any film. Every single person in a supporting role in a film ("girl on street corner," or "Mr. Smith's driver"  was once convinced this was their big break, and that they were finally headed for stardom. Once in a blue moon it actually happened (kind of like winning the lottery). But 99.9 percent of the names you see are unfamiliar strangers to you now because that minor role -- that "big break" -- turned out not to be the start of something great. Six months after their "film debut," it was probably back to that second job and more rounds of auditions. 10 years later, it was probably over and they either got out of the business entirely, or took a job backstage or in studio administration. Or departed Los Angeles, back to whatever town they had come from, becoming someone the neighbors might point to in the hardware store and whisper, "well, he was once a successful Hollywood actor, you know! He appeared with Charlton Heston in 'Ben Hur' as a chariot driver!")

I write this not to throw a wet blanket on the film -- in fact I recommend it highly. Take it in, enjoy it and tap your feet along with the excellent soundtrack while a completely fantastical Los Angeles rolls by visually.

Third clue: believing that young, struggling newcomers in town get invited to parties in places like this.

But don't let your friends, your children or your family become starstruck and think LA is the place to make it. Don't think the streets are that safe, that clean, or that final-read auditions, invitations to swank parties and earning enough to make one's car payment are easy achievements to come by. Thousands will tell you just the opposite.

The film is a lovely fantasy, and nothing more. Enjoy it for that. If you want to move to LA, do it for realistic reasons, such as the epic freeway car chases, occasional earthquakes and fantastic Mexican restaurants...not for show biz, and not because of anything you saw in LaLa Land.

Star Wars Premiere

This is my tribe, consisting of both family and friends, after seven hours of standing in line for the "Star Wars" premiere last Thursday. (Big Ag, not pictured, is inside buying himself some popcorn in advance) You know you're with the right group of people when you can do something like this and have it turn into serious quality time. You don't need a Caribbean or Alaskan cruise or trip to Hawaii to bring the family together if you have the right kind of family.

In my universe, "Star Wars" is all you need, plus maybe some pizzas delivered and Cards Against Humanity to help pass the time and increase the laughter factor, already usually off the charts with this group. We set up our lawn chairs, set up our food and drink, and settled in for the long wait in the morning, and then saw the 7 pm premiere with the absolute best seats possible (although we were second in line -- there is actually another family in the area more Star Wars crazy than us -- who knew?) 

There were also assorted fan geeks roaming about with lightsabers and robes, but that's to be expected for an "event sociologique" such as this.

Oh, and the movie was great, BTW. 

Star Wars revisited, the cradle of mankind and the importance of potatoes

I got my tickets to the premiere of "Star Wars" this morning. I actually got a little teary when I saw the third trailer, which went online last night.

Why "Star Wars?" 

It's the movie that made me an astrophysics major for three years of college (I later switched to journalism). It's the reason I love astronomy. It's why I wanted to become an astronaut. It's why I worked in a public observatory for eight years, and why I worked a a research assistant on a couple of NASA projects during college. It's why I own a telescope even now, and sit outside observing the heavens and watching meteor showers from our back yard.

It was "Star Wars" that pulled me from nights dancing at disco clubs to nights sitting in cold observatory domes comparing still images of the sky and taking notes. To say it took my life in a 180-degree course change is accurate. It changed my goals, the things I wanted to learn about, and how I saw the world. Suddenly the Disco Queen became a Science Nerd. It happens.

Perhaps it's even why I love this piece of land I live on, always conscious that it's just a speck on a little, blue planet, hurtling through space at thousands of miles per hour. The fact that it's my home planet means something to me, probably because in "Star Wars," the characters seemed to think the planet you came from was important -- no matter where you traveled throughout the galaxy, it was the place you were from.

But while this planet has been humanity's cradle, no one should remain in the cradle forever. Those other planets are out there, beckoning us through the night sky. Part of the reason "Star Wars" was important was that it made the stars above us inviting, accessible and exciting. Unlike previous movies like "2001 -- A Space Odyssey," space was not cold and forbidding. Instead it brimmed forth with possibilities of life, of stories and of adventure. When I'm out amidst the night sky, I don't feel like I'm alone in the dark -- I'm among friends: bright Sirius, Mighty Orion, and the misty Milky Way running through everything.

But although "Star Wars" inspired my life, it's true that I never became an astronaut. Instead, I worked  in public relations in the aerospace industry, then taught science, then did some newspaper writing and now, a bit of farming. 

But you know, Matt Damon is now growing potatoes on Mars, so perhaps farming is still a valuable skill set if we ever do get to the stars. I know I won't. I'm too old now. But you can bet come December 17, I will be seated front and center at the movie theater with a big tub of popcorn and a heart laden with emotion.

Because "Star Wars" made me who I am. And maybe it will inspire the next generation to get out into that vast, warm, friendly universe and have some new adventures. I hope so, anyway. I just hope they remember, those new steely-eyed star sojourners, how important it is to know how to grow potatoes, wherever you are.

We are all Noahs

This weekend we took a couple of hours off from trellis-building and egg-gathering and went to the movies.  I go to probably two movies a year, no more than that because it's really difficult to get me to willingly go inside a dark room for two hours and miss whatever's going on in real life.  I'm just not a movie person.

But I went to see the film mainly because 1) Big Ag and Groceries were both keen to see it, and 2) it was a bit chilly outside and the idea of sitting someplace warm with a bowl of popcorn sounded good for a change, even if it did mean sitting in the dark.

So since I'm obviously not much of a film connoisseur, I'm also not a very useful critic, but here's my verdict on the "Noah" biblical extravaganza.  Two thumbs up.

I say that because, at the heart of the film was a great environmental message -- that our position as stewards of the planet comes with responsibilities. Being the dominant species is not a free ticket to do whatever we please with this world we live in.  And sometimes, no question, the battle really does feel like an "us" versus "them" situation, within our own species, where compassion battles selfishness and wisdom attempts to override foolishness.

(As an aside, there was also a point in the film where Noah recites, voiceover-style, the first several verses of Genesis, only as it unfolds on the screen we see it from a Darwinian perspective, with each "day" happening over millions of years as first the planet, then its species, evolve.  That has always made more sense to me than 7 literal 24-hour days, as some Judeo/Christian faith sectors believe. And in this case, it was beautifully illustrated.)  

And I also believe things come down to this:  In some ways, we are all Noahs.  How we live on this planet should be our first concern, ethically.  Specifically, how we treat each other and the other creatures who share the planet with us.  We will all be called upon to do what we think is best in our little corner of the world.  If you believe in God, then you follow what you think He/She wants, and if you don't, then you take the path that agrees with you best morally.

But either way there can be no question that we have an accountability to those who come after us -- to leave them with the kind of world we'd want to live in ourselves. In fact, without a supernatural flood to wash everything clean in order to start again, it becomes even more important to leave a world worth living in.  The old stories in the Bible may or may not be literally true, but they do bring up larger talking points and moral issues we grapple with, even today.

My guess is there will be no worldwide flood to cleanse the earth in this day and age.  Cleansing the earth need not be as hard as all that, if we can just pull consciously pull together as a species in order to care for the world with an eye to its overall health and future.

"Noah" is, to me, a worthwhile film because it's a story with those morals at heart. And besides, who doesn't like hot buttered popcorn on a cold afternoon?