[As with my last post, I’m writing under the assumption that you’ve seen both Chinatown and Crash. Again, same rules apply: see them immediately for your personal well being or check the links. There’s no way I can even begin to summarize Crash, let alone Chinatown, in any sort of all encompassing sentence. But seriously. Watch them.]
Hollywood sign? Check. Smog? Check. Palm trees? Check. Welcome to L.A.1
Los Angeles. It’s the City of Angels, the land of palm trees, opulence, beautiful beaches, sunny days, smoggy days, and the cultural advantage of being able to make a right turn on a red light (thanks Alvy Singer). Of course, Hollywood has become synonymous with the city itself, and it’s not just the white letters nestled in the Hollywood Hills. The film industry’s headquarters are based in Los Angeles, a town overflowing with celebrities and “industry figures” alike. As the city has grown so has the American film industry, and their simultaneous expansion has made the two essentially interchangeable in many ways. While the streets and hills of Los Angeles are the backdrop to more films than Hollywood wants you to believe, there are a few films where LA plays an integral part to the storyline. Chinatown and Crash are two films where Los Angeles is more than a backdrop, and it is interesting to see a sort of “then and now” view on Los Angeles in comparison. While it seems both films should depict two very different versions of the city, they both show Los Angeles as a surprising similar place: a city beyond its glossy stereotype, full of its own complicated problems.
The Los Angeles director Roman Polanski creates in Chinatown is a place where not everything is as it seems. Set in the late 30s, the film follows private detective Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) as he attempts to find the answers to a case that is, well, not what it seems to be. In the process, Gittes travels all over L.A., from the recognizable glamour of Beverly Hills to the desolate farmlands in the Valley to the impoverished area of Chinatown. The city we see is not the shallow façade of glitz and extravagance: Polanski delves deep beyond this shiny exterior to expose a more realistic depiction of the city. Correlating with the theme of the discrepancies between the haves and have-nots, two very distinct sides of Los Angeles are depicted in the film. There’s Evelyn Mulwray’s (Faye Dunaway) home, the quintessential wealthy stereotype of Los Angeles living. Set back from the street, the enormous mansion is exquisitely furnished, impeccably kept, with lavish grounds complete with its own stable. This idea is sharply contrasted against many of the other locations, including the Valley and Chinatown. Even though it’s just over the hill from the city, the Valley is an entirely different world, an expanse of barren land populated by some orange groves and poor farmers the water company is attempting to force out. Back in the city, Chinatown is a place we experience even before we visit it. Nicholson’s famous line of “as little as possible” to describe his time in Chinatown sets the scene as a place of corruption and problems, and when we finally arrive there in the final scenes it fulfills these expectations as a dark place with bad neon lights and crowded streets (the ominous music doesn’t make the place seem any more auspicious, either). By painting Los Angeles as a city comprised as more than just wealth and sunshine, Polanski creates a place that reflects the corruption and problems he addresses.
"Forget it, Jake. It's...." 2
Within the film, the locations around Los Angeles serve to additionally underscore certain aspects of the film. In the beginning of the film Gittes follows Hollis Mulwray (Darrell Zwerling) around the city, from Echo Park to the ocean to dry riverbeds north of the city. These locations not only provide a sense of what a physically diverse city Los Angeles is, but also integrally tie Mulwray to the idea of water from the start. Our villain, Noah Cross (a wonderfully evil John Huston), is also depicted in a similar way when Gittes visits him out on his estate on Catalina Island. Yes, Catalina isn’t technically on the mainland, but it still represents a certain facet of the city. The choice to show Cross on the island depicts both his extreme wealth (Catalina used to be a place for the wealthy to get away from the city) as well as his relation to water: Catalina is an ideal location to show Cross’ obsession with water by literally surrounding him by it. While there are many other locations throughout the city with double meanings, one of the most apparent is Mar Vista, where Gittes and Mrs. Mulwray go to visit the “owners” of essentially the entire San Fernando Valley. Mar Vista is a neighbor of Los Angeles on the south end of the west side, and its name reflects its view of the Pacific Ocean. Here though, Mar Vista takes on an additional meaning: phonetically, Mar Vista sounds like “marred vista,” or damaged sight. Of course, this ties into the idea that the residents of the retirement home have no idea they’re now some of the biggest land owners in the city. While the locations throughout the city are important, their deeper meaning helps enhance the film as well.
While corruption doesn’t tie in to the physical locations of L.A., it is one of the major characteristics that drives how the city functions and survives. Again, breaking away from the sunny disposition of the City of Angels, Polanski chooses to depict a city where not just the people are corrupt: the city is too. Cross may be the man behind the idea to create a dam to irrigate the Valley, but the Department of Water is well aware and endorsing what’s happening too. The corruption even runs into the police force: in the final scene in Chinatown, when Gittes tells Evelyn to let the police take care of Cross, her response is “he owns the police!” a definite statement validating the depth of corruption. The idea of corruption ties integrally to the theme of how everything isn’t as it seems, building Los Angeles into a city not as perfect as it visually appears.
"I think we miss that sense of touch so much, that we crash together, just so we can feel something" 3
Set almost seventy years later, Crash portrays Los Angeles in a surprisingly similar way as Chinatown. A film depicting how people different in very divergent ways can all be interconnected, Los Angeles’ broad diversity of neighborhoods sets the scene for these interactions and reactions. But the Los Angeles that writer/director Paul Haggis creates is a more “silent” version than found in Chinatown. There are no instantly recognizable locations, save for the opening and closing shots of the film (of Hollywood from the Hills and downtown, respectively). 3rd Street Promenade is just another street; Carney’s is just a diner. Even Chinatown (which, coincidentally, is where Crash’s final scene takes place) is understated, only recognizable by those bad neon lights. This L.A. is one based on insider knowledge of the city-the places aren’t explicitly described or laid out, but if you look close enough, you can figure out where you are.
But that’s not to say Los Angeles doesn’t play a major role in Crash; instead, much like Chinatown, L.A. enhances the social differences that are at the core of this film. Here again Los Angeles’ diversity characterizes it as city of privilege and disadvantage, each in sharp contrast to one another. Jean and Ricks’ well-appointed house is a far cry from Daniel’s family’s tiny and grim home (which is even a step up from where they used to live), Shereen and Farhead’s convenience store is nothing like the studio set Cameron Thayer works on as a director. These places create a focus around the idea of extravagant wealth versus a blue collar lifestyle that defines the Los Angeles of Crash, and the locations are used to further emphasize these differences.
Haggis also depicts a side to L.A. that doesn’t first come to mind: corruption, but this time with a racial spin. In Crash, it’s more of a focus on individual corruption within the government, but this still makes the system corrupt. Within LAPD, officer John Ryan is an angry, jaded cop who shows blatant racism on the job. There’s Lieutenant Dixon too, who lets racism slide within the system in order to keep his status. And of course, there is the exchange between detective Graham and the district attorney (who is, surprise! Rick) and his staff. Here, we see corruption run both ways, and it’s hard to know if they are good people doing bad things, or bad people acting accordingly. These people and their actions define how we may view Los Angeles, and creates the layers of just how deep the problems run.
There are mountains behind L.A.? Downtown on a (very) rare clear day.4
Even though Los Angeles has changed so much physically and demographically over the years, in Chinatown and Crash things are essentially the same. There is still a big stratification between social and economic classes. There are still distinct neighborhoods. There is still corruption. Of course, it’s too early to know if Crash will hold up to the a classic as Chinatown has proven to be. Time will tell, but either way these films pay homage to the hometown of the film industry: a dark homage, but an homage nonetheless.
Photos: (all found through Creative Commons)
1 Photo from Wikimedia commons
2 Photo from Sir George Martinn (Flickr)
3 Photo from Fermi Zhang (Flickr)
4 Photo from Todd Jones Photography (Flickr)
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.