I was sort of dreading this film. While I admire the craft of Whiplash, I found the overall message to be rather abhorrent. It was a self-justifying ode to being a dick. Knowing in advance that one of this film's main characters was a militant jazz evangelist, I was prepared for more of the same "ends justify the means" BS that college boys take way too to heart. Thankfully, this film allows its central dick to suffer (not a whole lot of suffering though, because in the end this is just light entertainment) but at least a little suffering. Rather than ending on the triumph of Whiplash, La La Land hangs around to see what comes after the success and does not shy away from the regret that follows. Was it really all worth it? Hopefully that's enough to prevent an army of militant jazz evangelists from springing up in this film's wake. It really is Emma Stone's movie anyway.
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