The silver screen memory of Los Angeles

It feels good to be back in Los Angeles, the city of angels, devils and Hank Moody. Even though Hollywood feels like more of a tourist trap these days, one cannot deny the historic importance of the area.

I start the morning by dipping my pale toes in the Pacific at Malibu and having a burger from Jack in the Box at Malibu Pier. We drive east along Sunset Boulevard and pass through the usual mayhem at Hollywood Boulevard, where costumed hustlers wave from the curb, sweating under rubber Batman masks while posing for five-dollar selfies. A large crowd has gathered outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, supposedly another celebrity was about to place dirty paws in the concrete. In the distance, the Hollywood sign clings to the hills, stoic and silent, watching the slow unravel of dreams below.

Griffith Observatory perched above the city.

We wander through Griffith Park up to Griffith Observatory, a classic ground for many film productions. Being a prominent location in Rebel Without a Cause from 1955, James Dean even got a bust here on the western edge. It’s placed near the location where Arnold attacked the punks in the first Terminator movie 1984. With the Hollywood sign in the background, it doesn’t get to be more movie nostalgic than this.

Sunset over downtown from Griffith Observatory.

The studios are still churning out spectacles just down the road, filed with green screens, bulky superheroes and overused CGI. But up here, parts of the old LA still lives in the cracks. An echo of noir dialogue bouncing off Art Deco walls.

As I admire the sunset over the sprawling urban area of Los Angeles from the Griffith balcony, I think of the old song lyric by Red Hot Chili Peppers:

“Space may be the final frontier
But it´s made in a Hollywood basement
Cobain can you hear the spheres
Crimson sunsets and golden dawns
Singing songs off station to station
And Alderon´s not far away
It´s Californication”
— Red Hot Chili Peppers, Californication (1999)