After making a pair of
schlocky horror flicks, writer-director Alan Rudolph finally got to make a
proper film with the help of A-list auteur Robert Altman, who served as
Rudolph’s producer for Welcome to L.A.
Given the “Robert Altman presents” imprimatur, however, it’s hard not to
perceive Welcome to L.A. as Altman
Lite, especially since Rudolph emulates his producer’s filmmaking style by
presenting a loosely intertwined mosaic of cynical stories. Yet while Altman’s
best ensemble movies sparkle with idiosyncratic humor, Welcome to L.A. is monotonous, a downbeat slog comprising vapid Los
Angelenos doing rotten things for unknowable reasons.
The character holding everything
together is Carroll Barber (Keith Carradine), a self-absorbed rich kid who
fancies himself a songwriter and who spends the movie accruing sexual
conquests. Some of the uninteresting people orbiting Carroll are Ann (Sally
Kellerman), a pathetic real-estate agent given to humiliating displays of
unrequited affection; Karen (Geraldine Chaplin), a spacey housewife who spends
her days riding around the city in taxis; Linda (Sissy Spacek), a ditzy
housekeeper who works topless; Nona (Lauren Hutton), a kept woman who takes arty photographs; and Susan (Viveca Lindfors), an insufferably pretentious
talent representative in love with a much-younger man. Harvey Keitel and Denver
Pyle appear as well, though Rudolph is clearly much more interested in the
feminine mystique than the inner lives of men.
Rudolph structures the film like
a concept album, using music to bridge vignettes, and this arty contrivance
doesn’t work. Part of the problem is that singer-songwriter Richard Baskin, who
provides the song score and also performs several numbers onscreen, prefers the song form of the shapeless dirge. Which, come to think of it, is not a bad way to describe Welcome to L.A. While Rudolph obviously
envisioned some sort of Grand Statement about the ennui of modern city
dwellers, he instead crafted an interminable recitation of trite themes. Worse,
Rudolph employs juvenile flourishes such as having characters stare at the camera,
as if viewers will somehow see into the characters’ souls. Sorry, but isn’t
providing insight the filmmaker’s job? (Available as part of the MGM Limited Collection on Amazon.com)
Welcome to L.A.: LAME
Yeah, I've liked a lot of Rudolph films a lot better than a lot of others, but this was definitely just about the worst of a mixed lot ... (I say just about because , his "Breakfast of Champions" film, oh my god oh my god, let's not even go there) ... This one richly deserves its "lame" though, and is especially ruined indeed by the jaw-droppingly horrendous Baskin songs ... And I'm saying that as someone at the far polarity of affection for seventies singer-songwriters -- but everything this guy does is SO nails-on-a-chalkboard offensive to the ears, that it's nails-on-the-coffin for an already dubious film project here ... Trying to think of any silver linings, but can't think of all that many really ... You do get to see a goodly portion of Sissy, looking more comfortably like her true 27-year-old self, than as the teenage girl she portrayed so memorably in Carrie in the same year ...
ReplyDeleteI like your analysis, especially your description of Carroll's character. The biggest problem in this film is that it is so melancholy. It isn't a joy to watch. However, the songs do have an emotional impact. They replay in my head for days after I watched the film. I agree with you about the fourth wall breaks. The actors look at the camera way too frequently, and it takes the viewer out of the film. I don't agree with you though on the "trite themes." I think Welcome to LA has a very deep theme. I wrote a short essay on it called "The Path to Happiness.". If you would like to read it, I'm open to any feedback. https://christopherjohnlindsay.com/2022/12/04/welcome-to-la/
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