Written by: Nabeeha Nafey
There is something to be said about how good art can continue to surprise you again and again. Of course, this is a personal experience — what constitutes “good art” obviously varies between you and I. But one film, or rather cinematic experience, that many people tend to keep coming back to is 2016 Academy Award winner La La Land. And I get it — it’s a film you’ve probably heard about a million times. Some call it overrated, or nothing special. But then I also remember the thousands of people who still, nearly a decade after the film’s release, gather online in the comment sections of viral TikTok edits to profess their adoration for the film.
The story feels so relatable. At its core, the film follows aspiring actress Mia and jazz musician Sebastian as they navigate ambition, love, and the cost of pursuing both. Everybody can find themselves within the movie’s plot — and when people argue that the storyline is overdone, I’d argue that half the magic lies in that fact. While the theme of a melancholic love is common, director Damien Chazelle’s interpolation of song, color, and dance make it feel like an original experience. In the midst of this love letter to classic Hollywood cinema, the film reveals itself as deeply personal: in a stubborn, passionate Seb clinging to a dream the world urges him to outgrow, in an insecure Mia stepping into the shadow of the woman she’s yet to become, in a love that feels like destiny — until, of course, it isn’t.
La La Land is meant to be whimsical and unrealistic. It’s quite literally woven into the format of the musical — see, bursting into song on an overblown LA highway is anything but ordinary. But what truly tugs at the heartstrings is the realism of the ending, which juxtaposes the blissful, head-over-heels narrative the audience — alongside Mia and Seb — watch with rose-colored glasses. We root for them; for the long shot, for the possibility that things might somehow work out.
And that’s ultimately because our lives — real life — make it so easy for our dreams to feel impossible. Sometimes, that impossibility doesn’t come from a lack of love, but from timing itself. This taps into the familiar idea of “the one that got away,” which this movie captures so well.
What could have been is simple: Mia and Seb becoming who they were meant to be at the same time. That there was no conflict between chasing their individual artistries alongside each other. That maybe, in another life, the last ten minutes of the movie don’t haunt you the way they do.
The musical leans so entirely into this one point. There’s a reason for the montage at the end. And I think, what I mean to say is that La La Land excels at portraying the other, more realistic side to love: heartbreak. And I don’t mean the kind of heartbreak that ends in drama. I’m talking about the kind of heartbreak that comes from realizing not everything is meant to last.
Heartbreak exists both on and off the screen. It’s an emotion that lives within us, no matter what form it takes — I’m not even referring to romance. It prompts us to create strong art. And that’s why we gravitate toward Chazelle’s kaleidoscope of love, in all of its different shades: we feel seen. Heartbreak exists without the theatrics, which is a stark contrast to the first half of the movie where the director yells “action!” Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling burst into the choreography for ‘A Lovely Night.’
It grounds itself in the truthfulness of how even Mia and Seb — this idealistic but far-from-perfect, authentic couple — were shaped, ultimately, by circumstance. That such very real, unignoreable factors ended up besting them — after they got a taste of what happiness maybe felt like. Leaving their relationship as something that simply couldn’t continue given their goals in life. Not because it lacked meaning, but because it had already given them what they needed.
In the same way you’ve gravitated toward this piece, Chazelle draws audiences into the cinematic explosion that is La La Land. A world of color, jazz, and dance that invites us into a story where we see ourselves on the pages. These directorial choices very intentionally externalize emotion in a way that makes even the most unrealistic moments feel honest. They act as emotional cues — early scenes glow with saturated hues and sweeping choreography, but as tension builds, the palette softens and the dance numbers gradually disappear, giving way to something more restrained and real. It helps the movie break the stereotype, in so many ways, that love is super happy and the loss of said love is super tragic. This film reinforces that in love exists tragedy and in heartbreak lies purpose, and that sometimes, the two are inseparable. After you sit with the ending, you realize that it’s more hopeful than anything. It reminds us that an ending doesn’t have to be happy to still be meaningful.
And, super conveniently, this brings me into the last reason I gravitate toward this iconic film. It’s that loss isn’t an ending. La La Land does a phenomenal job immortalizing the love between Mia and Sebastian. What they shared was real, and changed the very essence of their being, and gave them meaning, a trajectory, and purpose. They became better for each other. They made efforts to show up for each other. They loved each other fully, and in doing so, grew into themselves. That didn’t simply disappear with “it’s over.” It was etched into permanence with the final, quiet promise of “I’m always going to love you.”
It’s in these ways that their love is, while lingering, never truly lost.
And it is in these ways I reassert that this film, indeed, means a whole lot to me.
Very recently, I was able to see the movie at Radio City Music Hall, accompanied by a live orchestra conducted by none other than the composer of the original score, Justin Hurwitz, himself! 2026 really does feel like the new 2016 because that’s when I watched it first. It was a wonderful reminder of why the film continues to resonate with me years later.
I hope I’ve inspired you to go watch — or rewatch — La La Land. I know I’m certainly invigorated to!
Featured Image Caption: Mia and Sebastian at Griffith Park, staring out at the Los Angeles evening-lit horizon — in fact, some might go as far as calling it a city of stars.
