Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003) +

A surprisingly enthralling bit of cinematic history/criticism/theory in which Thom Andersen, an artist/scholar who's been teaching film theory to filmmakers forever, offers his interpretive history of how Los Angeles -- arguably "the most photographed city in the world" -- has been depicted in film. At 169-minutes, the film feels like a semester-long seminar of lectures, screenings and readings compressed into a brooding but somehow exhilarating cinematic frame. The film works as an uneasy blend of two distinct texts, an essay read in effectively uninflected voiceover by Andersen's friend and former student, Encke King, in juxtaposition with a visual montage of images, sequences and scenes from more than 100 movies in which city of Los Angeles "plays" some kind of role. These two dense and fascinating texts are overlain atop one another. The text does not simply describe or explain the images, just as the images do not merely illustrate the points being made in the voiceover. This is not to say that the images/voiceover are discordant or incongruous, but rather that in its loose intelligence the juxtaposition maintains an almost dialectic space for the viewer. The spectator, in a way, is obliged to reconcile the Andersen's artfully assembled images with his forcefully argued text. It's a fascinating experience, this film about ideas and images. As Andersen's text wanders through three "titled" sections -- The City as Backdrop, The City as Character, The City as Subject -- Los Angeles Plays Itself opens myriad additional routes of inquiry, highlighting intriguing aspects of canonical films in fascinating juxtaposition with the trashiest of trasy exploitation films and fairy obscure independent/art cinema, all while making inserting provocative claims about the history of cinema, Los Angeles, and the practice of commercial filmmaking. In the first section ("The City as Backdrop"), Andersen presents an often amusing account of how filmmakers have used and misused Los Angeles as a location. Andersen presents a diachronic survey of how specific buildings have been used (the demonstration of the different ways the skylit, staircase laden Bradbury Building is entrancing), how films toy with Los Angeles geography, and how filmmakers have inadvertently created an aggregate diachronic portrait of certain neighborhoods and how they have changed over time. The second and third parts (The City as Character and The City as Subject) are a little less distinct, with the "character" section deals more explicitly with Los Angeles as an actual place with an actual history and how cinema has made claims about Los Angeles. The final section (City as Subject) deals most provocatively with filmmakers who have endeavored to deal with Los Angeles as both a topic and also as a state of mind, a state of consciousness. (The film concludes with Andersen's contemplation of the neo-realist African and African American filmmakers of the 1970s and it's in this concluding section that Andersen's polemic is at its most exhilarating.) All told, the film is something of a mindblower, a movie about a city, sure, but also a movie about how movies shape consciousness and even history. His quickie readings are at times thrilling (in his treatment of Rebel without a Cause, which Andersen calls "the first teen film noir," Andersen praises Nicholas Ray's decision to film it in the style of a studio musical) and compelling (I can see why this film proved so instrumental in the rediscovery and subsequent restoration/release of The Exiles; having The Exiles, the first movie to be added to my "watch this movie" list is Bush Mama). Andersen's treatment of themes -- the necessity of a car; the obsession with the LAPD; the way that even the most cynical cinematic treatments of Los Angeles history pretty things up -- is witty, smart and haunting. The gaps are big. No shopping malls, few high schools, a fairly black/white conception of race. And it's so too bad that this film was completed before it could really take on a 2003's Crash. (Indeed, if I were ever to have the appropriate opportunity to teach a film & history course, I would really want to pair this film and Crash to see what happens.) All told, a fascinating "movie about the movies" that opens onto no end of fascinating rabbit holes. Los Angeles Plays Itself will likely never have a home video or other commercial release but, as yet, there have been no "cease & desist" actions. So, if it comes to an arthouse or classroom or private dvd collection near you, hustle to see this film and see what you think. Because, even if it puts you to sleep, you won't be able to avoid thinking some deep thoughts before you drift off.

This post is cross-listed in GoatDog's "Movies About Movies Blogathon."
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And thanks to Oh, Well, Just This Once... for hooking me up with this film.