La La Land: The Tragedy of Ambition
There was a substantial part of my life during which I excommunicated musicals. Perhaps such neglection stemmed from sheer disinterest; after all, lightsabers and superheroes have always possessed a more direct line to my interests than dancing and singing.
Yet, as my taste for a grander variety of stories has grown, so too has my intrigue for the realms of film that I, once upon a time, invested minimal attention towards.
Musicals can oft be ambitious in scope, which I’d typically be approving of; I always give the benefit of the doubt to a war or sci-fi film that dares to be bigger than its contemporaries. I’d argue, however, that musicals are an exception to this principle. To me, singing is incredibly personal. This is not due to the fact that I, myself, sing, but rather because singing is an action entirely unique to the singer. Singers can pour their hearts out onto the page and dare to be vulnerable for the sake of expression. This is more than mere artistry: it’s an exercise in individual courage.
So it’s no surprise, then, that I find myself so drawn to La La Land, unwilling to herald it as the greatest musical ever made, yet obsessed with how the film projects itself as being so incredibly personal.
Within La La is a tragic ambition, a contrast of sorts. That is to say, each of the two lead characters possesses a particular professional ambition. At face value, it appears that each of them is capable of achieving said ambition, albeit enduring myriad challenges in the process, and all the while developing a relationship with one another. While the subject matter is quite sexy, the storyline’s foundation is the definition of universal.
Herein lies the dilemma of La La, one that seems so fitting for the quaint genre of the musical: can ambition and love properly coexist? The answer to such a query, like so many others we’ve tackled prior, is worthy of immense investment. Fortunately, the masterful elements of La La provide a more direct answer that subsequently eliminates the need for mawkish exploration.
Both Sebastian and Mia are dreamers, the purest form of “grown-up” that one can be. Their dreams run parallel to the other, are both professional in nature, and initially align because of an emotional interest that sparks quickly, despite an opening coldness (i.e. the drive-by finger).
Come the close, each achieves their professional ambition, though at the expense of the emotional aspirations they have towards the other. What substantiates such a distinction even further is a horrifyingly beautiful sequence of bright beats showcasing the type of life they could have achieved together: one in which their emotional aspirations have been achieved, though at the expected expense of their professional endeavors.
La La is a beautiful film, even if it lacks a mind-gripping moment. Thus, one need not draw out an analysis of it, as the message the movie seeks to convey is quite clear. What’s more important to clarify here, is that the message the film transmits is not persuasive, but an open-ended question, the very dilemma plaguing its pair of leads: how does one choose between emotion and profession?
Let us return to our initial leading query: when assessing if and how love and ambition can ‘properly coexist’, it must be determined what such an outcome looks like. Would one rather possess a lucrative profession or a loving family life? And sure, there are cases in which these choices aren’t binary, but entertain the clear-cut dilemma present here, if for no other reason than to understand how La La Land provides somewhat of a blueprint for choosing between ambition and emotion.
Speaking from the perspective of a critic, a role that we all occupy, I believe the film ended properly, for it generated the proper amount of internal conflict to lead the audience’s mind in imaginative directions. Yet, speaking personally, I certainly would have preferred for Mia and Sebastian to end up together, as their relationship was as fleshy as it was imperfect, making it the best version of a relationship.
Does this make me a romantic? Does this demonstrate that I care little about professional ambition when such decisions are pitted against emotional quandaries? Perhaps the answer isn’t so clear-cut. However, I would say that one’s gut reaction to a dilemma, that initial thought that turns the stomach into a blender of emotions, speaks to their authentic motives more than anything .
If nothing else, La La Land illustrates the tragedy of ambition, how objectives can change on a whim, resulting in a flurry of feelings. Who we choose to be during such moments pronounces more about our character than most anything else. We are who we choose to be, how we choose to react to dilemmas and events, and what we choose to eventually become.
That is what this story teaches me.
