REYNER BANHAM LOVES LOS ANGELES (1972)
Directed by Julian Cooper
Modcinema DVD-R
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THE FILM
Los Angeles is a beautiful place to fall in love. Trust me. And trust Reyner Banham.
Thirty seconds into Reyner Banham Loves Los Angeles, the late Mr. Banham, a self-assured British professor and author, slinks into a sedan. He adjusts his mirrors. Surveys the landscape. Describes his love for L.A. as "a passion that goes beyond all sense and reason". And then, we cut to a keychain in the ignition, which reads "BAEDE-KAR" in a sci-fi display typeface. A finger flicks. The BAEDE-KAR springs to life! Lasers! Fog! Computers!
Actually, no. It's just a sedan with a cassette deck.
Reyner Banham Loves Los Angeles is an easy film to over-intellectualize. Originally broadcast as part of the BBC's long-running documentary series, One Pair Of Eyes, its scholarly pursuits are obvious. Reyner was a bright and intuitive man, notably active within his respective circles of architecture and academia. This valentine to Los Angeles, something of a critical exploration of urban incongruity, was an extension of Banham's earlier book, "Los Angeles: The Architecture of Four Ecologies". You see? Big words. Bigger concepts. It's easy. But I can't do it. I can't analyze a film in which a grown man gently berates a fake talking-car tour guide, then interviews someone named Brad who lives in his piano-outfitted van because "It got to the point where I just wanted to play the piano. A lot." Of course, that's the whole point. Reyner was a smart guy. Smart enough to know that, on occasion, it's healthy to let emotions run wild and politely ask your brain to shut the eff up.
Much like the city of Los Angeles, there's no established rhythm or structure to this film. It's simply a series of odd, beautifully photographed adventures spurned from R.B.'s enthusiasm for singular L.A. locales, architecture, and social mores. Think Man With The Movie Camera, but 1972. And instead of Futurist collage and childbirth scenes, this self-as-camera-eye shows us a smooth jazz waltz under the Watts Towers. A breezy, informal tour of the Eames House. An inexplicable and semi-surreal film noir parody. Venice Beach interviews and lunch with Ed Ruscha and stripclub boobs and Beach Boys hits. Sprinkled throughout are hilariously weird asides from Reyner ("It's like the Balkans before 1914!") and his talking car ("Now entering Watts…see what the city of the future is doing to cure the evils of the past!"), all funneled through a prevailing sentiment of child-like wonder. Both in the visualization of Reyner's eagerness, and our enjoyment in witnessing it. There's nothing to criticize. I wouldn't know where to start.
Early on in the film, a slight explanation is given for Banham's obsession. As a young child in dreary Norridge, he was completely taken by "penny picture" screenings of Buster Keaton films, prompting a psychological (and eventually physical) means of escape. Towards the end of the film, and prior to a lovely sunset rumination, Reyner says, "Nevermind film stars and private palaces…lots of ordinary people come here, too." I can relate. Because I'm one of those ordinary people. And I've discovered, like Reyner Banham, that there's a lot to love about Los Angeles. Warts and all.
Now where's my BAEDE-KAR?
AUDIO AND VIDEO
The print looks and sounds like it should be unspooling from a classroom projector in the early 1980s. Modcinema continues to do good work.
EXTRAS
Reyner Banham runs just under an hour, so the disc is rounded out with Anatomy Of Los Angeles, a 40 minute French TV documentary from 1969, subtitled exclusively by Modcinema. Cynical, gloomy, and humorously "poetic", Anatomy provides an amusing foil for Banham's optimism. It's very French. Norman Mailer is in it. Watch after Godard's Weekend and be a proud subvert.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Just as Los Angeles imposes its style upon the world, so too does Reyner Banham. Reyner Banham Loves Los Angeles is a casual, infectiously fun document of an idealized subject. But in this case, idealization manifests as eccentric distinction -- this is Banham's thing. He throws in whatever he feels like throwing in, says whatever he feels like saying, and talks to a car. Why? Who knows. Love is strange.
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 06.09.11 |
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