There was never any doubt that I was supposed to like this movie. Despite being a caucasian, sports-loving, beef-eating, Southern Baptist, Republican heterosexual male, I think it says something about me that I rank Gene Kelly right up there with Albert Einstein, Joe DiMaggio and Ronald Reagan as “Dudes I’d Love To Be Just Like.” An American in Paris and On the Town and Brigadoon… Man, but THOSE were musicals! From the minute I saw the first trailer for La La Land, I knew this picture had a chance to win me over in a way that Chicago and Into the Woods and other such turn-of-the-Millenium musicals haven’t. The danger in finally getting to see it was that I would have set myself up with unmeetable expectations - that after the whirlwind of praise and awards the movie has already received, there was no way it could be as good as my subconscious demanded it be.
Oh, but all that worrying was for nothing! La La Land is an absolute, total, incredible triumph, and deserving of any and every accolade the industry can think to throw at it. From the very first song in the opening set piece, I was totally won over, and I knew it would take a total train wreck over the subsequent two hours to change that opinion. Okay, sure, Ryan Gosling is NOT Gene Kelly, and Emma Stone is NOT Cyd Charisse, but writer/director Damien Chazelle just may very well be some sort of reincarnated, melded version of Stanley Donen and Vincente Minnelli.
Set in Los Angeles, La La Land (Chazelle’s follow-up to his very impressive Whiplash) tells the year-long story of a blossoming romance between Mia (Stone), an aspiring actress and Sebastian (Gosling), a talented but struggling jazz pianist, whose paths cross amidst the world of Hollywood moviemaking and downtown music clubs. They first meet in a road-rage incident, re-meet by chance later, find common ground, find love, and then… well, that would be telling.
In terms of a bittersweet love story narrative and old fashioned tap-dancing choreography, La La Land offers nothing that we didn’t see in those glorious musicals from the 40s and 50s (even down to the “Presented in CinemaScope” banner that opens the film), but when something is done so brilliantly and executed so perfectly, it can feel like the most refreshing and innovative thing in the world, and this is exactly the kind of feeling this movie evokes. There’s a distinct “They don’t make ‘em like this anymore!” vibe here. It’s true that it’s a big, bright, colorful, ambitious movie musical, reminiscent of releases from Hollywood’s Golden Age, but the beauty of it is how that vibe is used to tell a story that is so obviously set in our own world. I mean, c'mon - Fred Astaire never danced with Ginger Rogers on an Interstate overpass! The soft-focus, shot-on-real-film visuals take you on a whimsical, yet at times heartbreaking ride, populated by characters with hopes and dreams, nimble feet and magnificently contoured faces, that provides exactly the kind of cinematic escapism for which lovers of musicals yearn.
In terms of casting, Chazelle could not have got it more spot on. Being that original stars Miles Teller and Emma Watson dropped out at different points of pre-production, these depar-tures might very well have been evidence of the ghost of Busby Berkeley guiding things, as Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling create a pair of characters, and a chemistry, that are far, far greater than the sum of their parts. These two actors are currently (arguably) at the very top of their game, both serious triple-threats with enough charisma to charm even the most cynical of viewers. As Mia, Stone typifies the spirit of a struggling actress and part-time barista, filled with that eternal hope of a big break, but also nuanced enough to break our hearts with every cold rejection. As Sebastian, Gosling gives what is probably my favorite performance of his career, carrying himself with a delicate swagger that is irresistible to the camera. There is no doubt that the musical numbers could have been sung with more precision and gusto by other, more outlandish singing performers, but to have replaced these two would have been to sacrifice the heart and charm of the film. Though both are clearly immensely talented, the delightful rough edges of both Stone and Gosling’s performances are what make them so human and endearing. That slight imperfection helps me believe there really is an alternate universe where every day, everywhere is a musical, and perhaps someday, I’ll get to go there.
Chazelle’s graceful camera work is thrilling, his timing impeccably tied to sumptuous images that are as delightful as the leads on screen. In collaboration with his Whiplash musical collaborator Justin Hurwitz, the film’s score is the heartbeat of the work, pulsing with energy and emotion. With songs that feel like standards, tied to graceful yet occasionally cheeky choreographed numbers, the film is unabashedly a musical in the traditional sense. I saw the movie twenty-fours hours before writing this review and have already Google Music-streamed the soundtrack half a dozen times - the tunes are that endearing.
As if anyone doubted Chazelle’s talent after Whiplash, La La Land firmly establishes him as a filmmaker to watch over the coming years. He has crafted a highly personal film that speaks not only to our sense of romance, but also to that little part of everybody’s heart (and yes, everybody has that “little part” SOMEWHERE inside) that longs to break out in song when the situation calls for it. A captivating treasure of a film, La La Land will make your heart and your head sing in praise, and maybe even tap a soft-shoe for a couple of steps. I simply cannot wait to see it again.
It’s been thirty-five years since the original Blade Runner film was in theaters, and nobody saw it then. Well, ALMOST nobody saw it, but thank God for VHS tapes and cable TV, for through these media, some folks realized what they’d missed. Sure, that tacked-on “happy ending” felt out of place, and the sporadic voice-over narration that kept popping up in places was really unnecessary… but oh, THAT WORLD! The visual style and atmosphere director Ridley Scott created, the Philip Marlowe-type character so cooly portrayed by Harrison Ford, the haunting score by famed composer Vangelis, and the ideas put forth about life and what it means! There’s a reason the market allowed (demanded?) Warner Bros. to keep funding the restoration and re-editing efforts that eventually led to Ridley Scott being granted the chance to craft a definitive edit of the film - the reason being that the seeds of a true science fiction masterpiece were always there, and 2007’s “Final Cut” of the film is exactly that. 
So here we are with Blade Runner 2049, set thirty years after the events of the first film, following a new “Blade Runner” (policemen charged with the task of retiring/executing rogue artificial humans, called “Replicants”), known only as “K,” and portrayed by Ryan Gosling. He is assigned the task of tracking down one certain Replicant whose existence can, as his superior officer (played by Robin Wright) explains it, can “break the world.” She doesn’t mean that literally, of course (that would be just plain silly), but apparently society would totally fall apart if this particular Replicant becomes known to the world at large. In an attempt at “breaking” the world, the blind trillionaire industrialist (Jared Leto) whose company manufactures Replicants is also trying to find this particular rogue Replicant, and sends his Replicant assistant/hit-woman Luv (Sylvia Hoeks) to find it and, more importantly, stop K from finding it. 
I won’t divulge much more plot than that, as doing so would (A) take too long, and (B) distract you from what this movie does best, which is the same thing the original film did best - create a world in a stunning, visually-breathtaking fashion. Director Denis Villeneuve (director of both Sicario and Arrival) helms this film, with Ridley Scott producing, and a more appropriate choice to follow Sir Ridley could not have been made, as he so wonderfully keeps the SciFi-noir feel and vibe of the original film. 
Villeneuve also reteams with his cinematographer from both Sicario and Arrival, Roger Deakins, and this master photographer has topped himself once again. His work here is just as impressive (perhaps even more so) than anything he's done before. The constant gloom and rain, with neon and vehicle lights slashing through; the harsh whites in K's police station; the almost-red glow that permeates The Wallce Corporation's interiors. Combined with incredible set design and visual effects, this movie is a veritable package of Oscar nominations to come.
Some critics point to the film’s two hour and forty-four minute runtime as a fault, but I strongly disagree. I never found Blade Runner 2049 to be slow. Many have used the term "slow burn" to describe the pace of this film, and while I agree with that description, I'm reluctant to use it myself because I understand how that term can be interpreted by some to mean "it's long, and while some people like it that way, I probably won't." Having the process of K come across each plot-point, then have him silently react to it and process its meaning, is what kept me mentally leaning forward in my seat. The original film wasn't in a hurry, although to be fair, it didn't have as much ground to cover as this follow-up does. This movie moves along at a pace that enhances our anticipation of the next move in K's journey, and a more rapid delivery of plot-points would lessen their effect.
Blade Runner 2049 is the kind of movie that film students will be writing papers on for decades. This isn’t your average “it’s so deep, man”-type of film. This is not Fight Club, American Psycho, or Inception, where the depth and complexity fade after a first viewing into simple entertainment. This is more like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Solaris or, yes, Blade Runner. A film that resists easy understandings. A film that is open to endless intertextual reading when examined in light of its source material, director, cinematographer, and stars. A film whose flaws reflect deep flaws in society. A film that tries to tell us something novel about ourselves. A film that re-invents film form and language to shake you to your very core, if you’ll only let it.
Early box office returns show that this film may suffer the same fate as the original, in the sense that mass audiences are not flocking to see it on its first theatrical run. Make no mistake, however - Blade Runner 2049 is at least as good as Blade Runner, and only time will tell if it reaches the legendary status of its predecessor. The most impactful moments in this film are in a different class than anything in Ridley Scott’s original. They distinguish it as its own film, and justify its existence as a sequel in the age of the remake, reboot, and franchise.
