Review: L.A. Story

The up until now superficial life of wacky L.A. weatherman Harris Telemacher (Steve Martin) is about to change. He gets canned from his job, his snobby girlfriend (Marilu Henner) leaves him for his agent (Kevin Pollak), and an animated billboard sign on the freeway speaks to him. Yep, you read that correctly. It gives him a cryptic message about his life that he can’t seem to make heads or tails of. He’s also worried that he’s losing his mind because a freeway sign is speaking to him. Meanwhile, he strikes up a relationship with the much younger sales girl SanDeE* (Sarah Jessica Parker), whilst becoming infatuated with English journalist Sara (Victoria Tennant), who is kinda sorta seeing her snooty ex (Richard E. Grant). Susan Forristal plays Harris’ artsy best friend.

 

One of my favourite films from writer-star Steve Martin (“Bowfinger”), it’d been about 15 years since I last saw this 1991 romantic comedy from Mick Jackson (“The Bodyguard”). Despite being a very 90s L.A. film, it still holds up wonderfully well. Yes, there’s a lot of Woody Allen here, but I think that’s because there’s probably a lot of natural similarities in the way Allen and Martin see things (You could also suggest that Jerry Seinfeld has similar comic sensibilities, this is very much observational humour). So while some might call this Martin’s L.A. answer to “Manhattan”, I just tend to think of it as a really terrific movie. And make no mistake, the director may be Mick Jackson, but this is absolutely 100% a Steve Martin movie (he’s even the Executive Producer), so if you’re not a Steve Martin fan, this may or may not be for you.

 

The opening scenes depicting 90s L.A. traffic rituals are hilarious, with a traffic light that reads ‘Uh, Like Walk’, and Martin’s weatherman Harris Telemacher avoiding traffic gridlock by driving on the sidewalk. Later there’s an hilariously hostile bit on the L.A. freeway where everyone has a gun, including a deep-voiced little old lady. I also loved his idiotic weather report and the phony rapport he has with the news anchors who clearly have nothing but contempt for his brand of ‘wacky’ humour. Being L.A. in the 90s, we also get the requisite earthquake during lunch…and nobody cares. I guess the humour might be a bit hit and miss for someone who is unaware of what life in L.A. in the 90s was like, but thankfully I’m not afflicted with that illness and found it frequently hilarious. The funniest scene in the entire film is probably when Martin attempts to analyse a painting. Meanwhile, my favourite line in the film is kind of a throwaway gag from Martin: ‘I could never be a woman because I’d just stay at home and play with my breasts all day’. I also loved the inexplicable cameo by a strangely polite robber: ‘Hi, my name’s Bob. I’ll be your robber’. Although I’d probably punch any waiter who tried to hippity hop the menu to me square in the balls, I did like that the restaurant offered different kinds of floss. That was funny. Although it’s hilarious, I’ll never quite understand why Richard E. Grant (who is priceless) apparently has clanging testicles in this film. Brass balls? Hardly, he’s a prissy, frightfully boring English git.

 

This is more than a comedy, though. It’s an L.A. midlife crisis movie told from the point-of-view of a wacky neurotic romantic. I said that this was kind of a Woody Allen film, but Martin for me has a much more innately likeable screen presence and it really does help the romantic side of things. He’s well supported by Sarah Jessica Parker, who as the gorgeous and flirty but flaky SanDeE* (Yep, that’s the correct spelling apparently) has never been better before or since. There’s a lot of mean-spirited ‘horse face’ jokes thrown at her these days (I won’t deny I’m guilty as charged with the jokes, too), but she looks stunning here and gives an hilarious comic performance as the kind of younger woman Harris feels embarrassed to be dating, because he thinks he’s way too old for her and she’s probably out of his league. This relationship is probably the closest the film gets to “Manhattan”, but that film didn’t play the May-December thing for laughs as much as this one does. This is its own film, ultimately. Parker and Martin ought to have been Oscar-nominated here, but…comedy, I guess. Much, much less impressive is the innately frosty English actress Victoria Tennant as Martin’s true love. The two were married at the time, so perhaps that explains how she managed to get cast in a role that she’s frankly the exact opposite of. While Parker and a well-cast Marilu Henner pull their weight as the ‘wrong’ girls for Martin’s Harris, Tennant just never radiates enough warmth or likeability to sell us on their coupleship (Hey, it’s in the Urban Dictionary, so I’m going with it). So the romantic side of the film has just that one flaw to deal with, which is a shame (Tennant does get a great first line, though). I also don’t think the character of Harris’ arty best female friend is particularly necessary, even though her character leads Martin to perform a delightfully whimsical tour of an art gallery on roller-skates (Probably the most ‘Steve Martin’ moment in the entire film). The character is barely in the film, and wouldn’t be any worse for her absence. Meanwhile, I miss Rick Moranis dearly on screen, but he’s not very believable or funny as a cockney gravedigger. Woody Harrelson similarly doesn’t get much to do as Harris’ jerk boss, and Chevy Chase’s walk-on is also frankly useless. I did, however like Patrick Stewart as a French-accented maître’d of a seriously exclusive restaurant, even if it felt like a scene out of something like TV’s witty “Frasier”.

 

Although Jackson is a journeyman at best, the film looks great, rather warm-looking as you’d expect being set in L.A. There’s actually something kind of beautiful and faintly spiritual about it, a kind of romantic spirituality if you will, that really makes the film stand out. Sure, the magic freeway sign’s cryptic text leads to a pretty obvious solution (There are hints throughout), but for what is kind of a midlife crisis movie and L.A. satire, it’s rather sweet actually and more than a little contemplative/meditative. Martin takes a lot of jabs at vacuous 90s L.A. life, but actually coming off in the end rather optimistic, thoughtful (if not particularly deep), and romantic. You never really get the sense that he hates L.A. or anything. A bit bemused at times, perhaps, but it’s not an overly cynical film as that wouldn’t gel with the more romantic/metaphysical aspects of the film (I think the later “Bowfinger” had a little more acid on its tongue).

 

A terrific romantic comedy that pokes a little bit of fun at 90s L.A. life, but also has a certain metaphysical fantasy bent to it, too. This is great stuff, and at 91 minutes thankfully quite short, too. Definitely helps to be a Steve Martin fan.

 

Rating: A