La La Land

I will always be an advocate for the theatrical experience.

This is my third country seeing this in the cinema. Each time it's marked different points in my life.

The first, I distinctly remember being scared of this film. Sounds strange because I loved the film, truly adored it, but that was the problem. I held in my hands a brochure with reviews from numerous outlets, one of which was "Gay Times". They gave it five-stars.

It didn't matter that hundreds of other publications gave it glowing reviews, it mattered that they did. It signalled to my dumb, naive teenage brain that I enjoyed this piece of art simply because of my sexuality. Something I didn't quite understand, or want to understand at this point in time.

Now, I could write essays on the intersectionality of sexuality and the media people consume. In short: it doesn't matter?

I say this hesitantly because I don't fully agree; there's some art that speaks to us more based on our own lived experiences, but to be a good consumer of art, to appreciate what an artist is trying to say, simply requires one thing, an open mind.

Being open to the art that is being presented to you and fully embracing it, yes, bring your lived experiences to it, bring your thoughts, and ideas, fears, and hopes, but most of all bring empathy, be open to hearing other people's stories. When it comes down to it, a good movie is just a good movie.

Maybe slightly off topic from La La Land, but that first viewing sent me on this journey, to be more open to art - to be more open to myself - to let go of this fear that being queer meant having a diminished or different opinion on the art I watch and my opinions of it.

The second theatrical experience I had with the film was in a small cinema in Paris. I lived in Paris for a month - though didn't dive into the Seine sadly. I did this to escape what was becoming a constricting environment; it was COVID, I was attending university, and was living life trapped between walls.

It was a really pivotal point for me that if I chose to write about it here, this would end up being thousands of words long. But I had time for introspection, to really embrace and learn who I am.

So I found myself in the middle of a hot summer day in July, in Paris, in a tiny indie cinema watching this film which had grown to mean so much to me, this film which was a marker for a point in time which seemed so far from how I was feeling now.

Since then... you know a bunch of stuff. You have experiences. You learn from them. You grow up, you learn about the world and the choices that befall any human who is writing their story.

In the pocket between cinema watches, it's clear to me now that passion is what matters in life. Passion lights up a room, passion is what makes us unique, passion could change your life if you manage to keep that love and passion despite the world's efforts to knock it out of you.

So that brings me to the Prince Charles cinema in London, a place where I've found a slice of home. Not because it reminds me of home in any sort of way, but that feeling of passion, that love for art and for life can be felt in those little tiny rooms full of strangers.

There's something magical about being moved by a piece of art, but to share that experience. To be sitting next to a complete stranger sobbing at the lingering glances that grace the screen at the end of this film. Both appreciating the story being told, perhaps bringing lived experiences to the story too, to be moved by the passion and love on screen, nothing beats it. Here's to the ones who dream.