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No matter where you live in the US, there are always some parts of town that are “better” than other parts. When you tell people what neighborhood or borough you live in, they immediately assume they know what kind of person you are and how much money you make. Here in Baltimore, if you live in Roland Park you’re an old rich person, if you’re in Canton you’re a yuppie, if you’re in Hampden you’re a hipster, etc, etc. The fact that these stereotypes are often untrue is beside the point; living in a certain neighborhood brands you as a certain type of person, for better or for worse.
Charles Doran’s Westsider takes this idea of personality-by-location and uses it as a framework for a black comedy about an up-and-coming architect whose life revolves around the Westside of Los Angeles. The unnamed lead character revels in the fact that he lives in the ultra-exclusive Westside, an area encompassing the best parts of Santa Monica, Malibu, West LA, and Marina del Rey. A recent graduate with a degree in architecture and an obsession with Frank Gehry, Mr. Westsider immediately lands a great job with an architectural firm. Life is good: he has a beautiful girlfriend (who he cheats on all the time), a bunch of friends (who he couldn’t care less about), a fancy sports car, and an ego the size of Gehry’s Disney Concert Hall. He can’t imagine living anywhere other than the Westside, and in fact, he doesn’t ever want to leave the area, even for a few hours. During an incredibly arrogant attempt to keep his employers from making him travel across the Westside borders, he is fired. From there, his life spirals out of control, as he is forced to move to The Valley, an undesirable neighborhood filled with stucco apartments that soon becomes his own personal hell.
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This film seems to draw inspiration from the stories of Bret Easton Ellis (American Psycho, Less Than Zero) and Jay McInerney (Bright Lights, Big City), two authors who were excellent at describing the depravity of rich youth in NY and LA during the excesses of the 80s. Both had a fairly nihilistic view of their subjects; if they weren’t dead or dying on the outside from drug abuse and constant partying, their souls had certainly disappeared ages ago.
Charles Doran presents this same sort of character in Westsider, and faces the same problem that Ellis and McInerney often did: why should we care about a self-centered, egomaniacal jerk? McInerney always tried to make us relate to the characters by concentrating on the human weaknesses that we all possess. Ellis, however, took a different route: we were simply watching a trainwreck, and continued to read out of some sort of morbid fascination with the downfall of the elite. Doran takes this approach, as his character certainly isn’t ever presented as likeable or sympathetic in any way. The problem, however, is that Doran doesn’t take things far enough; the trainwreck is just not as gruesome as it needs to be. While the character’s life does spiral downward until the inevitable ending, nothing truly horrific happens to him along the way. If Doran is going to stick with this kind of subject matter in his future films, I’d suggest making the character’s downfall more extreme, so that even though he’s an unsympathetic prick, we still can’t help but feel some sort of empathy for the awful circumstances he finds himself in. Alternately, Doran could create a more complex character; someone who is a jerk, but who still has some redeemable qualities that engender sympathy from the audience.
That said, Will Lupardus, who plays the main character, does an excellent job. I totally buy him as an arrogant, cocky know-it-all, and I also bought him as a down-and-out bum who slowly loses his sanity. He plays both roles with a slightly over-the-top gusto that suits the tone of the film perfectly. His narration throughout the film is also flawless, performing with top-notch diction and pacing as he walks a fine line between charm and cockiness.
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