MOVIE REVIEW: Los Angeles Plays Itself

by Jonathan Doyle

With the inspired curatorial assistance of one-time Godard collaborator Jean-Pierre Gorin, the Cinematheque Ontario has put together a pair of outstanding programmes on the essay film in recent months. The current programme is especially notable for its inclusion of Thom Andersen's much-admired, rarely-seen gift to cinephiles, Los Angeles Plays Itself. This is a witty and insightful dissection of Los Angeles (not "L.A.," Andersen insists) as represented in (mostly) Hollywood cinema. Surpassing even Martin Scorsese's epic pair of cinephilic essay films (A Personal Journey with Martin Scorsese Through American Movies, My Voyage to Italy) in the diversity, complexity and originality of its ideas, Los Angeles Plays Itself is essential viewing for anyone with an insatiable appetite for film history -- or history as defined by films.

Andersen's wisest choice is to largely ignore qualitative judgments, though he has some hilariously contrarian opinions (particulary one involving the Bressonian austerity of the Dragnet TV series in its hippy-bashing, late-sixties heyday). For the most part, clips are selected for what they say about the city and its representation in movies, not their cinematic merit.

As a result, we get a wildly diverse selection of clips -- ranging from mid-century classics (Sunset Blvd., Mildred Pierce, Rebel Without a Cause), iconic seventies films (Chinatown, The Long Goodbye, A Woman Under the Influence) and acclaimed contemporary films (L.A. Confidential, Jackie Brown, The Big Lebowski) to cult classics (Zabriskie Point, The Loved One, The Trip), underrated oddities (Model Shop, Hickey & Boggs, Night of the Comet) and outright stinkers (Cobra, Hanging Up, several Death Wish movies) -- all of which are used to make very precise points about the city and its onscreen identity. Andersen doesn't simply use clips to add visual flair to his written words (which are read by a bone-dry stand-in for the author/filmmaker), he uses them to illustrate what these films hide, reveal or re-imagine about the city he loves.

Cinema may provide Andersen's evidence, but his real argument here is about Los Angeles. Take for example Andersen's conclusions on Chinatown, which he sees as a defeatist, largely inaccurate vision of the city's history, but praises for its accurate depiction of the vital roles automobiles play in Los Angeles life. As Andersen observes, Jake Gittes' life totally falls apart as soon as his car is destroyed.

While Andersen merges the best aspects of film theory and the essay film in this thrillingly personal concoction, the film is not without its faults. At nearly three hours (not including intermission), it has a few, relatively brief dull patches. Andersen's bitchiness also grows tiresome -- he has particularly nasty words for Los Angeles-hater Woody Allen -- but the focus and precision of his arguments ultimately makes for an incredibly rich, thought-provoking and entertaining experience. Few films ever dare to throw this many rock solid, carefully-argued ideas at an audience and it's a pleasure to consider their implications.

The Cinematheque's screening is notable because the film has never been commercially available on DVD and it has only rarely been screened theatrically, due primarily due its abundance of hard-to-license Hollywood film clips. In order to see the film, you'll have to hunt down a local screening, buy a bootleg or dig up a functioning torrent. No matter how you track down this exhaustively-researched film, you'll definitely be glad you did.

The current essay film programme at the Cinematheque continues tonight with a powerhouse triple bill -- Harun Farocki's Images of the World and the Inscription of War, Georges Franju's Hotel des invalides and Patrick Keiller's Robinson in Space -- and concludes on March 13th with D.W. Griffith's A Corner in Wheat and Straub-Huillet's Too Early, Too Late. If you live in Toronto, be sure to catch a few of Gorin's always innovative and cerebral selections. -- Jonathan Doyle