Finally Understanding Los Angeles: Under the Silver Lake

A Film as a Video Game

One of the most formative experiences I have had this year was watching the 2018 neo-noir thriller Under the Silver Lake. This film follows an ordinary 33-year old man in Los Angeles who tries to untangle the clues left behind by a mysterious neighbor who suddenly moved out of her apartment. What struck me about this film is not any plot element, but rather its use of illustration to show the deeper feeling of living in Los Angeles better than any movie I had seen before. 

I watched it during my own first time living in Los Angeles, though not my first time visiting. This was not intentional, but this overlap helped underscore the cinematic and narrative accuracy. LA had always been an enigma for me. As a visitor, I would feel like I do not understand the city. The Hollywood sign, the hills, and the hikes would feel like they obscure more than they reveal. The restaurants are the pinnacle of an economy I would not be privy to. The Tar Pits showcase the animals that have lived and succumed in the desert – as highlights of a time that passed. Everywhere there are references to a city that must exist, and must be alive and breathing, because so much is there. But as a visitor I would only see the tip of the iceberg. 

Many movies reflexively about Hollywood would often either glamorize the city explicitly (For example, La La Land), or else glamorize the city through attempting to reveal its corruption (Havoc). Under the Silver Lake was the first film I had seen which succeeded in being an illustration of Los Angeles, in the way that a realistic video game can serve as an illustration of a city. Just as a video game can use a setting as a background, or as a relevant part of the story narrative, a film can also make these choices. In Under the Silver Lake, the film both uses Los Angeles as the setting and the subject of narrative in a way that imbues the film with uncommon video-game like properties.

Unlike other movies about Los Angeles, there is enough illustrative content of different styles that the viewer gets to explore Los Angeles themselves and form feelings about what is shown, versus following along with the director’s gaze as the table stakes for understanding the plot or emotional texture of the film. There are many beautiful visual shots of Los Angeles: cozy apartments, swimming pools, pillows, concrete, plants, windows, cupboards, the Hollywood Hills, records, bathrooms, long shots of parking lots. These show Los Angeles both in tight, close quarters–the nooks and crannies one would see if one was themselves experiencing Los Angeles, and in its almost impossibly expansive natural beauty. 

There are also plain scenes, and downright ugly scenes. The depiction of erotics and romance, are varied, and enjoyment of the eroticism or romance is not required for buy-in into the film. Some of the scenes felt cozy to me. Some of the scenes feel crass. Some of them made me very uncomfortable. In noticing all of these different feelings, a more textured image of what hyper-experience in Los Angeles may feel like emerged for me. 

I have not mentioned much about the plot yet. The plot itself supports the exploration of these feelings, as the plot centers around the main character’s textural confusion: I met this girl, we vibed, she left without saying anything–weird. The protagonist himself does not have much at stake, but rather is exploring the dissonance around not knowing what is going on, and seeking psychological grounding. 

One interesting aspect for me, in watching this film while in LA exploring the real Los Angeles, is how much the film augments the real experience of being in LA. The slightly out of reach experiences feel a little bit more explained. I felt more grounded and confident navigating the real city’s uncertainties–the film did not transport me but affected me right where I was. I would say this was an enormous artistic achievement.