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Rewritten Dialogue: Logan Lucky
This will be short and quick, since I mostly enjoyed this very Soderberghian heist film, and am less interested in rewriting any part of it than pointing out an obvious flaw.
Tell me if you can spot the problem with this dialogue, spoken by Riley Keogh’s native West Virginian, Mellie Logan:
Jimmy: Yeah, I got off early, so I thought I’d take Sadie on over to her dance thing so you didn’t have to drive her.
Mellie: Well that’s great and all, you wanting to see your daughter dance and everything, but it was yesterday.
Jimmy: Shit.
Purple Lady: Excuse you!
Mellie: I got her there fine, by the way. See, most people think if you’re gonna go to Charleston then, duh, you get on the 85 for Danville, then the I-19 to Charleston. Fifty-four miles. But being 4:00 p.m., I knew, not the best time of day to be on the road. And they’re still doing all that shoulder work on the I-19. Plus, then you got the sun right in your eyes for that whole stretch outside of Julian. So, yeah, I took the 85 to Danville, but then I hopped onto the 3. So instead of going up and over, I’m going over and then up. After that, it was just a straight shot on Daniel Boone Parkway all the way to Marmot.
See it yet? If you live anywhere other than the Los Angeles metropolitan area, Orange County, or San Diego, the mistake is obvious.
The use of the word “the” before referencing a major highway, freeway or interstate is a colloquialism specific to southern California. Thus, Interstate 405, a major freeway in L.A., is referred to as “the 405,” and Interstate 5 is “the 5.” A Los Angelino might say, in directing someone through the city, “Take the 405, to the 10, to the 5.” I have also occasionally, although far from uniformly, heard this colloquialism used in Arizona, presumably because of Arizona’s proximity to So Cal.
Conversely, in northern California, all “the”‘s are dropped from highway monikers. Here, we might say, “Take 101, to 85, to 280,” referencing the numbers of major highways like proper noun names, in much the same way as we refer to BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) like a person – “I’m going to take BART to downtown.” I don’t know if this is as specific to northern California as overuse of the article qualifier is in Southern California, but it is one of the big language distinctions between the top and bottom halves of the state.
I’ve never visited West Virginia, so I don’t know how they talk about highways there. If I had to guess, they refer to them as I-19 (this is how their traffic reports read), rather than “the I-19” as Mellie does, and certainly not “the 3” or “the 85.”
Since these characters are supposed to be from West Virginia or North Carolina, the article qualified highway designation is comically out of line. I actually watched the movie in the company of a native North Carolinian, and my husband, a native Southern Californian. Our conversation from the viewing party went something like this:
Him: Rusty, guess what’s wrong with this dialogue.
Me: That West Virginian’s really a Los Angelino.
Her: Why do you always do that? Put “the” in front of everything?
Him: Why wouldn’t you put “the” in front of everything?
Her: It’s just so redundant.
Me: And stupid.
Her: That too.
Him: Troglodytes.
Watching movies at our house is an interactive affair. For what it’s worth, she also says a lot of the accents sucked, in much the same way as they sucked in True Blood. Maybe the same dialect coach worked on both productions? We’ll never know.
Also, here’s a funny thing: IMBD lists the writer for this movie as the heretofore uncredited Rebecca Blunt. People quickly surmised that this name was a pseudonym, but it took awhile for them to settle on the actual responsible party. Current consensus is that Rebecca Blunt is really director Steven Soderbergh’s wife Jules Asner. Although Ms. Asner has relatives in West Virginia, her Wikipedia page tells me she grew up in Arizona, before moving to Los Angeles to attend UCLA and, later, work for the E! network. Which explains why she probably didn’t think twice about her highway designations .
Ah, the internet – so full of rabbit holes.
Photographing Battery Spencer and Fort Baker
In my ongoing quest to do as the tourists do, I hied me down to one of the best spots in the Bay Area to photograph the famous Golden Gate Bridge, Battery Spencer. Battery Spencer is located up on a high hill overlooking the bay, and is easily accessed from Fort Baker. The parking situation seemed preferable at the Fort, and the kid likes to hike, so we stopped there first.
The above picture was taken on the way up to the bridge. I used my little Fuji XPro-1 to get the shot. I acquired the XPro for a very, very reasonable price when they were closing them out a few years ago to make way for the newer model. So, the technology is ancient, but still functional. It was through this little camera that I became enamored with Fuji glass, which means it will always have a place in my heart. Fuji glass, in my totally unbiased and unsophisticated opinion, is phenomenal. I suck at managing the focus on this camera, though, and have never managed to fully figure it out. I have my best success with it on shots like these in which the subject is far away. I didn’t notice until after the picture was processed that the offspring was making faces behind me in the shot. Because of course.
We then trekked across the Golden Gate bridge. This is a walk, I’m embarrassed to say, I’ve never before made, despite being a nearly-lifelong Californian. I guess there’s little incentive to be a tourist in the places where you live, and easy to take for granted landmarks you see routinely. I was struck at how beautiful it is up close. It was the middle of the day which translates into terrible lighting, so I wasn’t very motivated on the picture front. Still, I took a few snapshots so you can get the gist:
Also got a shot of the underside of the bridge on the way up, which is a pretty nifty sight:
A sad sidelight to this bridge is that a number of people kill themselves every year throwing themselves over the railing. I was greatly sobered to reach the midway point, where the railing sinks, in consideration of these sad souls, and also a little surprised to see how low the railing actually is. A sign, I guess, of the time in which it was built.
We finally made our way up to Battery Spencer shortly before dusk. Here’s the money shot:
I hear that you can get fantastic shots of Karl the Fog from this location, especially if you are inclined to show up at dawn. I am not inclined to show up at dawn. Still, Karl’s pretty ubiquitous. Maybe he and I will cross paths in this location on another day.
This above shot was, of course, a long exposure shot. I did it this way to smooth the lights out along the bridge, and give the bay a glassy look. I think it came out all right, although maybe even better if I’d had a 10stop filter for a longer exposure. Or fluffy clouds, and a shorter exposure. Maybe next time.
This was my parting shot, on the way back to the car. It’s hard to see in such a tiny picture, but the sky is full of stars. I thought the effect of the reflections were also quite lovely.
Until next time, everyone.
Photographing Mare Island in Vallejo, California
We had a bit of a mishap trying to visit the ship graveyard in Suisun Bay, otherwise known as the Suisun Bay Reserve Fleet. We drove ourselves out there, only to discover upon arrival that all roads leading to the fleet itself were restricted to the public. I’m sure there’s some trick to visiting this place, but we are not privy to it. Another day.
Not to be deterred, we headed to Mare Island. What a weird, wonderful little place.
According to Wikipedia, Mare Island was originally discovered by the Spanish in 1775. This is an astoundingly early number for a state as young as ours. Besides the missions, there wasn’t a lot of European activity going on out here before the Gold Rush.
The island got its current name from General Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, after his prize white mare unexpectedly survived the destruction of a livestock ferry by swimming to the island’s shore. The island later became the first U.S. naval installation on the West Coast, and is home to the oldest golf course west of the Mississippi. Who knew?
The island is home to the Mare Island Shoreline Heritage Preserve. These pictures were taken from that location. Although the Mare Island Naval Shipypard is now closed, the shipyard has been designated a National Historic Landmark.
We took an unintentional tour of the island, since we hadn’t planned on visiting and had no idea where we were going. The place is a bizarre mix of ghost town and planned community. Many of the military buildings are now being used by a university. A really, really quiet university – we never did see any signs of life. By the time we stumbled onto the preserve, it was nearly dark.
Still, I’m glad we stuck it out. The preserve was lovely, even in the near dark. The structure featured in several of these photographs is a sculpture called the Ghost Ship, erected to commemorate the closing of the naval base. As you can see, I was quite taken with it. Here’s what it looked like in full:
The hanging tags with, I’m assuming, the stationed ships’ names, were free-hanging, which meant they moved in the wind. It was challenging to get them to hang still long enough for a picture. In one of the photos above, you can see that the “Success” tag was still moving when the image was snapped.
We were also afforded some lovely views of the Carquinez Bridge from several vantage points. I like how this one came out:
Slightly different angle (and post processing) on it here:
I have this overwhelming urge to turn everything into a candy-coated post card. For the first time in a long time I have a desktop computer. Everything looks shiny and sparkly on it, and I find myself wanting to put all the colors into pictures, just because I can. In my defense, there were legitimately a lot of colors to be had in this sunset. Still, a little restraint never hurt anyone.
What I really would have loved to do is get the picture down by the water, at the base of one of those long docks. Now that would have been cool. Unfortunately, it was not immediately apparent how to get down there, or even if we were allowed to do so. I’ll save that shot for another day.
I did finally remember to make use of my camera’s high ISO abilities, although I don’t think any of these pictures were shot much higher than 400. 
This seemed to enable better exposure and, in some cases shorter shutter speed. The shorter shutter became increasingly necessary as the wind picked up. By the end, I was literally hanging onto the tripod with both hands and squatting, trying to keep it from toppling. I understand that people hang weights from their tripods for this purpose. In retrospect, I probably should look into doing something similar. It would be a lot less silly looking.
I did remember to bring a towel with me (I always find myself wishing I had a towel), but then left it in the car before heading out. The other thing I left in the car? My glasses. I don’t see very well without them, and once it got too dark for me to continue wearing my prescription sunglasses, I was basically pointing my camera at lights and hoping for the best. Fortunately, the camera’s pretty smart.
And that’s a wrap! Check out Mare Island if you happen to be in town. It’s a weird and wonderful little place.
Photographing at Alameda’s Crab Cove
I am fortunate enough to own a lovely Fuji camera, which I bought with an unexpected windfall several months ago. When I bought it, it was on the self-imposed condition that I would use it ALOT. The camera is a ridiculous luxury for people like us, and I should only have it if I’m going to use it all the time (and maybe not even then). So, use it I do, even on days like this one, when there was no time to go anywhere exotic or exciting.
Given how early the child goes to bed, and given that these were taken on a school night, I couldn’t stray very far from home. So, I grabbed the spouse and the child and the dog (as you do) and headed down to the marina at Crab Cove in Alameda to take in the sunset.
We get some great colors due to the nearby city lights and, sadly, to the air quality, and this evening was no exception. The picture above is shot looking out at the dock. Learning from my last photography attempt in Monterey, I shortened my exposure. It turns out boats are on water, and water is always moving, which means if you use a long exposure, you’re going to get a bunch of out-of-focus masts. I probably could have done this better, maybe by upping my iso and shortening the shutter even more, but still, an improvement on my last attempt.
In the other direction, you could actually see some stars, although the horizon was blown out by light pollution. The streaking lights are likely airplanes taking off from the Oakland airport. I kept them in, because I think they look a little like low-flying shooting stars.
One day I hope to get my hands on one of these, a filter which is supposed to help with the light pollution issue. I’ll let you know if it ever happens for me.
I wish I had done a better job on the foreground – the whole photo was kind of a throw-away, as I was leaving my location on the rocks to avoid the incoming tide. On the one hand, a smaller aperture would have helped me with my depth of field, which would have put these rather uninspired concrete junks in better focus. On the other, the smaller the aperture, the higher the ISO and shutter speed. I was hoping to get some stars in my picture, which meant there were limits to how long I could expose the picture before I got star trails. Ah, physics. And, of course, more ISO means more grain. I don’t love graininess.
Finally, reflections in the still inlet water. Reflections are always awesome. I wish I knew how to keep the lights from the houses from bleaching out. Adding this to the list of things to learn for next time.
Until next time, dear readers.
R.
My Fiverr Fail
“Fiverr Fail” may be too strong a description. “Less successful than hoped,” maybe would be more accurate, or “Could have been better, but not a terrible experience,” if we’re feeling charitable. However, “Fiverr Fail” is catchy and alliterative, so I think we’ll keep it.
I tried out a new Fiverr artist last week. I won’t name the artist here, because I didn’t love his or her product, and I’m not really in the business of bashing someone else’s business. This artist had a high approval rating on the platform, which means other people really like his or her work. And to their credit, they finished on time. Early, even. So, very professional. Just not my cup of tea.
The lessons from my Fiverr fail are two-fold:
(1) Be really specific as to the art style desired. I selected this artist based upon other work within their portfolio. I did not, however, explicitly state which of their other artwork I wanted them to emulate. As a result, I ended up paying $120 for something that did not line up with my expectations. Big bummer.
I wonder, in retrospect, whether the Fiverr account I contracted with is staffed by a group of artists instead of an individual. This appears to be a popular business model on the site, especially for artists outside the U.S. Thus, I may have been assigned an artist with an entirely different aesthetic than that featured in the seller’s portfolio. And I wasn’t terribly specific, so how were they to know?
(2) Consider the language barrier: Fiverr artists come from all over the world. The artist from the previous post, for example, is from Russia. While there are a number of native English speakers on the site, there are also artists from Indonesia, and India, and Argentina, and a whole host of other far flung places. Talent is global.
I feel like my experience here may have been complicated by either language barriers or cultural differences in what makes funny. This seller’s English was decent, but I use slang and colloquialisms in my little scripts, which is an added degree of difficulty.
On the subject of outsourcing art:
All manner of think pieces have been written about the gig economy, its disruption and devaluation of industry, and the exploitation of artists in less prosperous areas of the world by its model. I don’t think I can do better on the subject than others have done already. I will say that in addition to the two artists I have hired thus far from other parts of the globe, I have also attempted to hire several artists local to me, using both Fiverr and Upwork as resources. However, I have yet to get an U.S. artist to commit to a project with me or, sometimes, even respond to my query.
The Original Script:
This script was originally posted on Whistling Far and Wee as Big Dog Would Like Dinner, Please. I have replicated it below:
Big Dog: I would like dinner, please.
Me: I know you’ve been locked up a lot today, Big Dog. I do this thing with Little Dog to give her some action on days like this, wherein I give her a puzzle ball with her food in it, and she has to extricate it. Sounds like fun, right?
Little Dog: I LOVE treat balls!
Big Dog: I would like dinner please.
Me: Here, Big Dog. This is the remedial treat ball. I’ve put some food in it. What do you think?
Big Dog: I would like dinner, please.
Me: Look what happens if you roll it.
Big Dog: Food has magically appeared on the floor! I like food! Which reminds me: I would like dinner, please.
Little Dog: Man, I wish I wasn’t afraid of the kitchen.
Me: Here, I’ll do it again. Watch carefully, and see what happens if you roll the ball, Big Dog.
Big Dog: Food has magically appeared on the floor AGAIN! I like food! Which reminds me…
Little Dog: For the love of God…
Me: Let’s try this one more time, Big Dog.
Big Dog: …I would like dinner, please.
Me: Don’t you want to at least try the treat ball?
Little Dog: I want the treat ball. I want it. I waaaaaant it.
Me: Fine, Little Dog. Have at.
Big Dog: Holy smokes! Now food is magically appearing all around Little Dog! What is this crazy magic?
Little Dog: You can have the food. The work is its own reward, you know?
Big Dog: No.
Little Dog: You should feed Big Dog. She’s harshing my zen.
Big Dog: All I know is that I would like dinner, please.
And here is what the Fiverr artist gave me. FYI: I think you are intended to read down the right column of each page first, and then read the left column second:
I will say, the picture of Little Dog with the silly stars over her head is pretty great, and right on the money with its ridiculousness. Little Dog is a doofus. And my kid thinks it is AWESOME, so there’s that.
Note: This post is cross-posted on The Little Dog Big Dog Blog.
Semi-Belated Review: Lady Bird
Before I get started, let me get this out of the way: Lady Bird is fine. It’s fine. I just don’t understand why everyone thinks it’s great. It is nearly 100% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes. Really critics? This is the movie we’re going to single out for universal acclaim? I dunno.
For those of you who have yet to see the film, Lady Bird is a coming of age story that follows Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson through her tumultuous senior year at a Catholic high school in Sacramento, California. Over the course of the movie, Lady Bird fights with her mother, alienates her best friend, loses her virginity, and dreams of New York, before finally heading to a college on the east coast her financially strapped parents can’t afford because she really, really wants to. Upon arriving in New York, a city she had never visited but had romanticized for years, Lady Bird – and I’m confident I’m not spoiling anything here – rediscovers the importance of home, family, and Catholicism.
And that’s it. That’s the whole movie. The film is populated by thinly drawn characters with limited internal lives and even more limited personal magnetism. It takes a greatly charismatic actor to make such an unattractively self-absorbed character as Lady Bird sing. Margo Robbie nailed it in I, Tonya. Saoirse Ronan, on the other hand, was unequal to the task, at least in my opinion. But hey, she was nominated for an Oscar, so what do I know? She’s nominated for an Oscar against Meryl Streep. I’m just saying.
As you can probably tell, I’m at a bit of a loss as to why people are so high on this perfectly adequate but unremarkable movie. Is it because it’s a coming of age movie about a girl, and there are so few of those to chose from? Is it because people want to support a still-sadly-rare female writer/director?
I am sympathetic to both of these concerns. Women are depressingly underrepresented as directors and writers, and our stories are often relegated to secondary character status in the narratives of men. Still, I would argue that Lady Bird, as a female coming of age story, pales in comparison to, say, Welcome to the Dollhouse, or Ghost World, or An Education, or Pretty in Pink, just to name a few off the top of my head. And if we’re looking to recognize a female director this year – which is a great thing, and not done often enough – why not nominate Dee Rees for Mudbound, or Patty Jenkins for Wonder Woman? Is Greta Gerwig’s work really better than either of theirs? Or Stephen Spielberg’s, for that matter? I dunno. I’m not sold.
I’m left to speculate as to the attraction. Maybe people like the mother-daughter relationship? Or the story of female friendship? If so, neither of these narratives were given enough screen time for to me to become fully invested. Or maybe, as its final moments seem to indicate, it is intended as a love letter to Sacramento? I have lived in Sacramento, California, and am familiar with nearly all of the locations on display here. I found her vision of the town – a town which is, in its fashion, quite charming – to be flat and uninspired.
You know who I did like? Lady Bird’s best friend Julie. The character is an appealing outcast with a divorced mother, an absentee father, a surprising talent for theater, and few prospects for her future. Her character’s arc was sadly neglected, often relegated to background noise in Lady Bird’s less compelling narrative. I would totally watch Julie’s movie, and am more than a little saddened that this remarkable actress will likely struggle to find career opportunities, despite her obvious talent, because she doesn’t look like Saiorse Ronan.
To sum up: This movie is perfectly okay. I’m just having trouble figuring out what makes it great. I guess that’s why I’m not a professional reviewer.
Photographing the Point Reyes Lighthouse and Surrounding Environs
Last weekend, I took my trusty Fuji down to Point Reyes at dusk to photograph the lighthouse and all the loveliness surrounding it. It turns out, the California coastline has quite a few cool old lighthouses. Has someone done a coffee table book on them? I feel like there ought to be such a thing.
The coastline, as always, was spectacular. I often struggle with how to frame these expansive coastal scenes. The easiest thing, of course, is to put a human in it – examples of this kind of landscape shot are all over instagram. It seems like such a copout, though, and anyway, it’s not really practical for these long exposures. My tactic lately has been to put something in the foreground to give the thing some interest. Here, I’ve used a fence:
And here, a rock:
Now that I look at this, I begin to think I over-processed it in post. Sometimes I just get carried away by all of the wonderful colors available to me.
I can’t tell if my framing technique is working or not.
Sadly, the path to the lighthouse itself closed at 4:00. Booo. I was forced to take my pictures from the distant lookout. Still not a bad view.
Very little processing was required to pull out this sky. Go smog.
While we heard the horn from this lighthouse, its light never turned on for us. Maybe we didn’t stay late enough. As the offspring gets tired early, and is a little scared of the dark, we weren’t able to linger and find out.
On the way back to the car I snapped a picture of this charming structure. No idea what it is, but it sure is cute.
As Dr. Seuss says: Funny things are everywhere.
Point Reyes was a great time. I encourage you all to visit, should you every find your way to Northern California. There are many lovely picture-taking opportunities to be had.
Until next time, photo-buddies!
-R.
The Dogs Attempt a Webcomic via Fiverr
As you may be aware, I write little sketches about the ongoing adventures of my rescue dogs. I post them on this site once or twice a week. My friends on my personal Facebook account greatly enjoy them, and there has been much discussion over there on how they should be best presented. Someone suggested a webcomic. I like the idea, but I can’t draw, and have neither the time nor the inclination to learn.
This is where Fiverr comes in. Fiverr is a website that connects people to contract artists and designers around the world. For a nominal (or sometimes not-so-nominal) fee, you can pay one of these artists to design a logo, or work on a website, or, in my case, draw a webcomic. The comic below is the product of a lovely artist in Russia who goes by the handle of skittlesrequiem.
This was my first experience on Fiverr, and it was fantastic. Ms. Skittles was professional, accommodating, and on time. This comic cost me just under $50, which seems like a pretty good deal to me, especially because I’m under the impression that now I own it, and am free to use it on my website without further royalties.
I’m going to try a few other artists over the next few weeks, or until I run out of money, whichever comes first. As my husband got laid off a few weeks ago, money may run out sooner rather than later, but until then, let’s fiddle while Rome burns. Comics for all! Let me know if you have any preferences, gentle readers. I’m open to input. I’ve also decided to give the dogs their own blog, where I will be cross posting this stuff: The Little Dog Big Dog Blog.
I’ve pasted the transcript below, which was originally posted on this blog a few months ago under the title On the Importance of Vigilance. I’d love to hear your thoughts as to whether you think the artist captured the spirit of the thing.
The Script:
Little Dog: Whatcha doing, Big Dog? I was going to chew up a table leg, or maybe eat something of the kid’s, but if you’ve got something better…
Big Dog: I am waiting for the mailman. I hate him.
Little Dog. Her.
Big Dog: I hate him.
Little Dog: She could have already been here. You could be waiting for nothing.
Big Dog: I hate him.
Little Dog: Her.
Big Dog: I will get you, mailman.
Little Dog: Yeah, I think I’m gonna go work on that table leg. Let me know if anything pans out.
Big Dog: MAILMAN! MAILMAN! HE’S HERE! I CAUGHT HIM!
Little Dog: Her.
Big Dog: AS SOON AS I BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR I AM COMING FOR YOU MAILMAN!
Tree Trimmer: Jesus.
Me: Holy cow, what’s going on out here?
Little Dog: Something about the mailman.
Big Dog: I WILL GET YOU MAILMAN!
Me: Dogs, get in the back.
Little Dog: Okay.
Big Dog: NO!
Me: Yes.
Big Dog: NO!
Me: Yes.
Big Dog: MAKE ME!
Me: Fine.
Big Dog: THIS IS NOT THE END! YOU WILL BE VANQUISHED, MAILMAN!
Tree Trimmer: Wow, your dog is scary.
Me: You’d feel better about her if you saw her with the vacuum cleaner.
Belated Review: La La Land
I waited a long time to watch La La Land, mostly because I was afraid it would break my heart. And I wasn’t wrong. It did, in all the worst ways.
It’s been out for a year, which means I had a lot of time to read reviews about the film before seeing it. The film’s charm, I got the impression, lay in its affection for and references to Los Angeles, and old musicals, and the Golden Age of Hollywood. It seemed to touch something deep and sentimental about these things amongst people with an attachment to the city and its history. In short, if you already felt fondly about Los Angeles, and musicals, and movies, then this film hit all the feels.
I like Los Angeles. I love dancing. I adore musicals. This film should have been a slam dunk for me. I am 100% its demographic.
And this is where the heartbreak comes in. It only got halfway there.
La La Land is undeniably a love letter to Los Angeles. The city is a pivotal and, I would argue, principal character in La La Land. The story may nominally be about the relationship between Sebastian and Mia, but their love affair has a third wheel, and that wheel is the city of L.A.
Of course, lots of movies feature Los Angeles as a character. I can think of a bunch just off the top of my head that do it better: Sunset Boulevard, Chinatown, L.A. Confidential, Singing in the Rain, Double Indemnity, and Swingers spring immediately to mind, and I’m not even trying that hard.
Still, I lived in Los Angeles, once upon a time, and I started getting all the warm fuzzies I was supposed to get the moment those people started singing on the highway, and on some level, isn’t that the point? The film skipped between the Rialto Theater, to the Griffith Observatory, to the 105, and every time it did, I smiled.
Unfortunately, it is less successful – I would argue a lot less successful – as an homage to classic movie musicals. I think this is because you have to actually know something about something to craft an homage to it, and I don’t get the feeling these guys actually know that much about musicals, or old movies, or classic hollywood. Like, maybe the extent of their knowledge is that they saw a few of them once.
This is immediately apparent in the casting. While both stars are charming, neither can sing or dance. As a result, the production numbers are weak sauce, impressive only if you didn’t know what a real movie musical number should look like. It’s not like Hollywood doesn’t have any singing or dancing talent. Was Channing Tatum unavailable? Luke Evans? I don’t know if Channing Tatum can sing, or Luke Evans can dance, but they’ve both got a leg up on Ryan Gosling, who can do neither.
The singers weren’t helped, though, by the fact that whoever did the mixing had apparently never seen a movie musical, or listened to a Broadway cast album. The vocals were routinely drowned out by the orchestration. WTF, La La Land? You had all the money. Hire someone from New York who knows something.
As I said, the whole thing broke my heart a little.
Want to see a true homage to the classic hollywood system? Watch Hail, Caesar. Coincidentally, Channing Tatum does a fantabulous send up of a 1940s tap number in the middle of it. It’s a weirdly awesome amalgamation of Anchor’s Away, On the Town, and South Pacific’s “There Ain’t Nothing Like a Dame.” Tatum may not be a tap dancer by training (although this effort is pretty damn good), but he’s all Gene Kelly in mannerism and styling. You can watch it here. Now that’s what an homage looks like.