I’ve always wanted to travel across America. I’ve been a few times, to the major tourist attractions – Disneyworld in Florida, Vegas in Nevada, Cheers in Boston – but there’s so many places I’ve never seen in person, and most likely never will. Fortunately, there’s a solution, and it’s my own personal remedy to all life’s problems: movies. There’s been a movie set literally everywhere. Everywhere! So, this feature sees me cinematically visit a new state every week, through a film that was set there. Next up: Los Angeles! (As so many films are set in California, I decided to split it into two posts)
In this world, there are very few career paths seemingly more unnecessary than a weatherman in Los Angeles, at least from what I know of the city and its utter lack of a changeable climate, so it’s only natural that Harris K. Telemacher (Steve Martin), a man afflicted with such a job, is unhappy. It doesn’t help that his girlfriend is something of a bitch, most of the people he hangs around with are vapid, image-obsessed fools and any semblance of creativity he brings to his work is immediately squashed. However, when two new women enter his life, and some other fantastical events happen, he has a chance to claim happiness for himself.
When I opted to split California into two and choose a film set in Los Angeles I opened up the floor for literally hundreds – if not more – possible films, so I went a little on the nose and opted for one with the name of the city in the very title. This may become a running theme for some of the remaining states of this road trip – guess which chainsaw massacre I’ll be reviewing for Texas – but here it felt rather fitting, as most of what I’ve learned about L.A. initially came from this satire.
I’m a fan of Steve Martin, at least of the work of his I’ve seen, and I’ve even managed to see him live once, performing with his band on a tour promoting his album The Crow. He did a little stand-up before the performance, and it was great. However, and I find this to be the case with most comedians, their stand-up works best when performed on a stage, to a live audience, and when it is integrated into the narrative of a movie it ends up lacking a certain something. That’s the case here, where we’re treated to some fairly generic and uninspired 90s comedic routines – apparently women take a long time to get ready before going out, and traffic in L.A. is terrible! And what is the deal with all this junk mail?
However, once you get past the jokes that must have been unoriginal even in 1991, there’s some genuinely inspired farcical comedy here – the first day of spring heralds open season on the L.A. freeways, allowing drivers to freely shoot at one another and there’s no running allowed in the exercise park. This is a world where showers have slow motion settings, fancy restaurant reservations require credit checks and dental floss comes in regular or diet. Elsewhere there are elements that are just plain odd, but enjoyably so, such as Harris spending his spare time rollerblading around art galleries and museums, recording it as performance art. This sub-plot doesn’t really go anywhere and adds nothing to the plot, but it’s one of several diversions that are nonetheless welcome.
One of my main issues with L. A. Story as a whole is that I can’t work out what it wants to be. Along with the biting satire of Hollywood life there are moments of fantasy, along with melodrama and romantic comedy tropes. Character motivations will often change from scene to scene regardless of whether they improve the story or not, and at times it feels like a bit of a disjointed mess. Normally this can all be forgiven if the result is actually funny, but there are sadly too many times where this is not the case. Whilst there is a lot to laugh at, it all gets a bit bogged down in relationship woes throughout the third act.
That being said, there’s still a wealth of cameos and bit parts from some of Martin’s comedic friends – Rick Moranis has a memorable turn as a Hamlet-riffing grave digger – and the likes of Kevin Pollak, Woody Harrelson and Larry Miller all crop up in pre-fame supporting parts. This also features my favourite performance by Sarah Jessica Parker – although to be fair that’s not saying much. She is one of Harris’ objects of affection – an impossibly perky and overly friendly shop assistant who enjoys cart-wheeling, playing with her hair, chewing gum and enemas.
Overall there are many better satirical films out there, and better Steve Martin comedies too, so whilst this is by no means a terrible film, it’s one I don’t think I’ll revisit too often.
