I left the theatre of Damien Chazelle’s last picture, Whiplash, feeling exhilarated. That film strung you along on a rat-a-tat rhythm of rim shots and cymbals, leaving no time to breathe, wrenching you from your comfortable seat and pulling you along to a terrific, explosive denouement. His new picture, La La Land, has the same forward motion trajectory, but instead of feeling breathless with exhaustion and bombarded with quick, relentless images of bloody hands and sweaty brows, he treats us to sumptuous images of glorious, sunny California and the magic of film making. It’s as though he looked at what he had done in Whiplash, how he had pulled us forward in our seats, and decided, this time, to sweep us off our feet. And sweep he does.

Every review I’ve read has noted the opening of the film. If you were wondering how they were going to pull off a classic-style musical in this age of superhero action films, and brooding violent pictures depicting our depressing world, the opening number sets the tone immediately. Within the gridlock of LA traffic, we are treated to a colorful explosion of movement and song. The number is called ’Another Day in the Sun’, and immediately we are placed in the world of the film and recognize the boundaries that are in place. Yes, people are going to feel emotions in this film, emotions that are connected to their dreams and their desires in the glare of the LA sun, and they’re going to feel them strongly, so strongly that simple words will not do. It would be amiss of me not to mention the fact that this complex and rousing opening was literally filmed on a real LA highway, as cars speed past in the background. This film does not hold back, you realize.

The bare bones of it are simple. Mia (Emma Stone) is a young actress, tirelessly auditioning, being humiliated, auditioning, humiliated, auditioning, on and on and on, the endless cycle of trying to make it in Hollywood. Sebastian (Ryan Gosling) is a jazz musician who is mourning the decline in his hallowed genre, and hopes to make it popular again by opening his own club. These two struggling artists meet on numerous occasions as they traverse their way through the glitzily saturated town of Hollywood, not exactly making good first impressions. It is only in the hour of dusk, under a painterly purple sky, where, like the old musicals, they make a connection through song and dance. It’s an elated moment, and the chemistry between Stone and Gosling is evident as they tap dance their way through one long continuous take. The essence of the story is similar to what Chazelle explored in Whiplash, except with a lighter, more optimistic, welcoming tone: are your dreams worth the sacrifice of important aspects of your life?

What brings charm to the film, and in some ways up to the present, are the imperfections. Whereas musicals from the Golden Age were performed by meticulously trained and well practiced actors, the stars of this film bring an innocence and vulnerability to their performances, their singing and dancing is simple yet entirely believable. Stone and Gosling offer us characters who fill us with pure joy and heartbreaking fondness.

Chazelle and his cinematographer, Linus Sandgren, keep the camera constantly moving. It glides along, giddily roaming amongst the characters, like an excited observer taking in the colors and the music. At times it pans so fast the image is blurry and slightly disorientating. It's the movement of hopes and dreams, overwhelming yet totally exciting. They utilize the close-up, populating the frame with a face, deepening the emotional impact. And so many colored lights and costumes you can’t help but feel happiness at every moment.

This is a film to cherish. Everything works. Like any good film, it is not grounded in reality, making its own rules and going off into surprising and sometimes surreal territory; but we go with it, and embrace its originality and magic. Damien Chazelle is a director we need, and it’s in our best interests to keep him making movies. Go see it.