vision

WASHINGTON — After a generation of comfortable Democratic majorities in the House, Republican congressmen seemed resigned to life in the minority–until Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) and the Congressional Opportunity Society began using House rules to wage guerrilla war against the entrenched leadership.

Dismissed at first as gadflies and ideologues, the young Republicans gradually developed political muscles. Two landmark events marked their coming of age: the resignation of Speaker Jim Wright following Gingrich-backed charges of ethics violations, and the election of Gingrich as whip, the second-ranking post in the House minority leadership.

Gingrich’s rise to prominence coincided with a major change in Washington’s political climate. In the 1980s, Washington was a town with clearly marked ideological divides. Issues such as Nicaragua and abortion dominated the agenda; battle lines were clear. The 1990s look quite different. With communism in retreat, the old foreign-policy battles no longer seem so important. After 10 years of a GOP White House, conservatives seem less opposed to strong government, and liberals less committed to it.

In retrospect, Gingrich’s call for sanctions against South Africa’s minority-white government seems a turning point in the emergence of the still unsettled Washington picture. Here was a leading conservative taking a position closer to that of Jesse Jackson than Margaret Thatcher.

If Washington has changed as the result of Gingrich’s challenges, Gingrich is changing as he becomes part of the Washington Establishment he once scorned. Like many political challengers before him, Gingrich seems to be finding that Establishments aren’t so bad–once the club lets you in.

This shift may cause him trouble down the road–Hell hath no fury like a right-wing scorned–but for now Gingrich has the best of both worlds: the support of conservatives and, increasingly, the respect and even friendship of moderates and some liberals.

During a relaxed and casual meeting, Gingrich seemed eager to talk about history and ideas. At times he seemed more like a popular college history teacher–a job he once held–than a powerful member of the congressional leadership. He seems comfortable with himself and his ambitions; confident of making his mark and willing to run risks.

He also has a quality that is rarer in Washington than it should be. For all the huge egos in Washington, there are relatively few people who see themselves against the backdrop of history. Gingrich is one. Men like Theodore Roosevelt and Winston Churchill are often in his speech–perhaps this says something about the scale of his ambition. That both these men were mavericks who changed parties and allies during their careers says something else about Gingrich. He will be hard to pin down in the political battles of the future–his loyalty seems given more to a vision than to people or parties.

Question: What is your foreign-policy vision for the United States?

Answer: Well, I think first of all you have to start with the presumption that there are three huge changes under way. There’s the rise of the true world market, where competitiveness and the speed of information flow and ease of transportation means that you are beginning to be connected internationally in the sense that in the 19th Century you had a national economy.

Second, there is the spread of the technology of destruction in such ways that you’re going to have, by the end of the century, places like Iraq, Iran, Libya and Syria that are capable, at a minimum, of threatening European cities with ballistic missiles and chemical and nuclear warheads. By the year 2000 to 2010, they may be able to attack the United States directly. That is a whole level of combat and conflict that we are not used to.

Third, you are living through a fundamental change in the Soviet empire. This clearly destabilizes the whole planet in the sense that for 45 years we had a bipolar world, with a Western coalition containing the Soviets . . . .

You have to start with a fundamental reassessment of America’s role, as decisive in some ways as the late ‘30s decision to commit us to stopping Japan and Germany or as decisive as the late ‘40s decision to contain the Soviet empire.

But we’ve got to reformulate a new image of where the planet is going. What does America want in the world–and then what is America’s role in trying to get it?

Q: It’s interesting that you mentioned those two periods, the ‘30s and the ‘40s, as times of great change because in both those times the conservative movement tended to take a more isolationist stance.

A: If you go back before 1937 and 1938, conservatism, from say 1860 to 1928, was the internationalist movement. And it was the Democrats, the (William Jennings) Bryan wing of the Democratic Party that was isolationist . . . .

Then, beginning in the ‘20s, you had a role reversal. And as the conservatives became less the government and more oppositional, they also became less internationalist and more isolationist. What you had, beginning with Eisenhower, and Nixon in all fairness–Nixon was one of the people who voted for the Marshall Plan–you had the emergence of first, an internationalist anti-communist Republicanism and then under Reagan and Bush that has broadened . . . .

I think that today there is much more isolationism in the Democratic Party than in the Republican Party . . . (where) there’s much more internationalism and much more of a commitment to the world market . . . .

Q: How would you define the differences between your view and that of the Democratic Party?

A: Well, there’s a difference about the question of safety, a difference about the question of international competition and a difference about the speed of transition–if I can break them down like that.

First of all, safety. The liberal Democrats basically are myopically focused on Central Europe and on Gorbachev, and their basic theme is, since Gorbachev seems to be succeeding and Soviet power seems to receding from East Germany, the world is safer. Therefore, we can demilitarize.

I would argue that we’re caught in the tragic irony that the curve, if you will, of threat from Iraq, Iran and Syria is rising at a rate about as fast as–or faster than–the curve of Soviet threat is declining . . . .

Now the question I would pose is: Is the world still going to be dangerous–even if Gorbachev succeeds? My answer would be yes. In fact, the world’s going to be more dangerous than people think. Dictators are going to have higher-power weapons that are more sophisticated than people think. And some of these dictatorships are very big. The Syrian Army has more artillery than the American Army. So when you say, “Gee, we can shrink dramatically,” my answer is fine–if you’re willing to allow the Iraqis to threaten American cities without SDI. If you’re willing to allow the Iraqis and the Iranians to seize the oil fields, and if you’re willing to give up Israel . . . . And I think most of my Democratic friends on that are just sophomoric. I don’t think they’d even look at the data base, because it conflicts with their ideology.

And the second big question is the world market . . . . The bureaucratic welfare state and permissive attitudes are incapable of competing in the world market. The correct answer is to reform and revitalize America, not to retreat . . . .

And I think a lot of my Democratic friends, because they have to bear the burden of the public-school bureaucracy in the inner city, and they have to bear the burden of the big-city machines, and they have to bear the burden of union work rules–their reaction is to say, “Gee, we have to find ways to withdraw from the world market, and to somehow build a self-sustaining America.” I think that’s crazy and I think in the long run it means a lower standard of living and fewer jobs for Americans.

Lastly, there is the question of speed. I thought it was almost funny that George Mitchell and Dick Gephardt decided that George Bush wasn’t moving fast enough. If you look historically over the Bush Presidency and you look at the change in Panama, Nicaragua, East Germany, Hungary, Poland . . . this has been unbelievable . . . .

I say this: I’m a conservative and I’m willing to criticize George Bush, and I voted to override on the Chinese student veto, but I have to say overall that they get A-plus marks on managing a transition of unbelievable complexity. And getting freedom further in 18 months than anyone would have thought possible.

Q: Among the Soviet Republics, Lithuania is an easy call in that we never recognized the annexation, but then you start looking at other separatist movements–including Russia. Isn’t there a fear of a nuclear Lebanon in the Soviet Union?

A: You have a fear of the unknown there. You’ve also got to recognize objective realities. There’s an Indian reservation in northern Vermont that claims it’s not in the United States. Now what if Gorbachev decided next Thursday to recognize it? I mean, you’ve got to decide, all right, what are the ground rules here. The Soviet Union does exist . . . . I think it’s now an empire in transition, but it exists. And it is going to have to decide inside itself how it allows itself to dismember. If they adopt a rule that says if the Georgians vote 70% to secede, that is frankly a more open rule for withdrawal than we have in the United States . . . .

Of course, if Russia does declare itself independent or sovereign it will be the first time that the mother country declared herself free from the empire. So it would be a dramatic change. And I think our position is that all of these republics have the right of self-determination and we would certainly encourage the Soviet government to tolerate and negotiate with all of these republics.

Q: As an American Georgian, you would know that.

A: Yeah, that’s right. I mean, we Georgians, we’ve already had this argument. Now, you can make the argument in their case that it wasn’t a voluntary collection (of republics); it’s the late 19th Century empire. That’s a good argument. But you are seeing Gorbachev take what is, after all, a pretty radical position and saying, look, we’re going to figure out a legal formula for you to get out of here. Well, that’s pretty amazing . . . .

And I think it’s a little unfair to say yeah, he did all that, but boy now I have this new excuse to get mad at him. And as long as he doesn’t use military force, it seems to me that we owe him the opportunity to try to lead his own country to sort itself out . . . .

Q: How is the Administration responding?

A: Well I think that the decision by the Soviet government to open up some economic activity in Lithuania is a victory for Bush. And I think if he can continue to encourage and nudge Gorbachev in the direction of re-establishing economic patterns with Lithuania, I think it will be a very big plus for him.

Q: Earlier you remarked that, in talking to the President about Lithuania, you said we need Winston Churchill, not Stanley Baldwin. Does that still apply?

A: Well, I think the President convinced me that it wasn’t the same kind of situation; that who we may need is George Bush, and that, in fact, he is negotiating and maneuvering his way through a very complicated situation with considerable skill.

Q: OK, let’s talk now about some of the global economic issues, because I think it’s clear to all of us that they are going to be dominant. Some people think that the economic competition among the former Western allies may become very, very fierce. Do you?

A: Not necessarily fierce, but it will become intense. But . . . it’s not that we’re competing for the same pie. We’re competing to build bigger bakeries . . . . The world market is extraordinarily underdeveloped and there is an enormous amount of money to be made over the next century helping the entire planet achieve a high standard of living. So there ought to be intense competition for how we build the bigger bakery. But we don’t have to have any kind of competition over who gets bread, because everybody ought to be getting bread . . . .

Q: Do you think that the world economy is breaking up into blocs or that there is a danger of this?

A: There’s a permanent danger of breaking up into blocs, but I wouldn’t exaggerate that. I think there is much, much more to be gained in the long run by actively building global countries and global companies. We are much better off to have more IBMs and more General Motors and Fords and AT&Ts; that are able to be everywhere. And we’re much better off to have thousands of new, small businesses that compete everywhere a jet airplane goes, and anywhere a fax machine can receive their latest advertisement. And I think we want to encourage this, more than anybody else, because we are perfectly suited for the world economy.

Q: More than any other country?

A: More than any other country. I mean geographically, we can reach both Europe and Asia simultaneously and Latin America. And in terms of our own cultural background. We are the only universal country of the planet, the only country that has people from everywhere. And therefore, we ought to be the advocates of the widest global market.

Q: Does that suggest the possibility that other countries may not be as enthusiastic for this as we are–for example, Europe?

A: They may not be. I mean, the Europeans don’t even have a real concern about that. On the other hand, the Europeans need us to balance off the Germans . . . . The price of having a market of nations that really do compete with each other, is that you have got to be able to sit down for long negotiations, and you just have to go in and tough it out.

Q. This sounds a lot like what used to be called liberal internationalism in the 1940s. So is it true that the liberalism of today is the conservatism of tomorrow?

A. Could be. I think that it’s that and an ongoing sense of thesis, antithesis, synthesis to some of that . . . . But if you would have interviewed a Democrat back in 1948, he would have said, “Gee, this sounds like Theodore Roosevelt.” Theodore Roosevelt’s wing of the Republican Party has consistently been the dominant dynamic in American life for most of the last century.

Q: So would you say Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin Roosevelt, Newt Gingrich is the line of succession?

A: No . . . . To be honest, I’d say Roosevelt, Roosevelt, Reagan. It’s important to remember that Reagan was an FDR Democrat, and that when the Democratic Party moved to the left, Reagan left.

SiriusXM is leaning into its sporty side.

The satellite radio company is launching a new subscription plan built specifically for sports fans, called the Sports Pass. For $5 a month, listeners will be able to follow live game broadcasts for every home and away game for nearly every major sporting event.

Launching Sept. 1, SiriusXM will offer one of sports media’s most comprehensive packages, including everything from the latest Formula One race to international soccer.

“SiriusXM Sports Pass brings that vision to life for sports fans by putting every game and event we carry, hometown voices, national personalities and the daily sports conversation into one simple, affordable subscription,” said Jennifer Witz, SiriusXM’s chief executive, in a statement. “No matter who you cheer for or where you listen, it brings you closer to the teams and voices that matter most to you.”

The subscription includes coverage of the NFL, MLB, NBA and NHL; every NASCAR, IndyCar and Formula One race; the PGA Tour; WWE events among others. In addition to the live broadcasts, the Sports Pass will also include expert analysis, podcasts and 24 local sports stations, including ESPN LA 710.

The introduction of the subscription package emphasizes sports as an essential part of SiriusXM’s business. The company said in a statement that sports is one of its biggest engagement drivers and that more subscribers than ever are tuning in to sports. Other subscriptions include its All Music tier for $11.99 a month or its All Access tier for $25.99 monthly, which includes music, sports and news.

By having these sports available through a single subscription, SiriusXM is “creating a one-stop shop for any sports fan who’s listening to the radio,” said sports media analyst Lee Berke. This kind of convenience often increases the time listeners are willing to spend on a platform, he added.

“If all sports and all major coverage is available throughout one service, then there’s no reason to go anywhere else,” Berke said. “If you want to maintain subscribership 24/7, 365, you have to have all these things. You don’t want to just appeal to one type of sports fan.”

Outside of sports, SiriusXM is well known for its curated music channels, like Pitbull’s Globalization and The Kelly Clarkson Connection, and talk shows hosted by on-air personalities Howard Stern and Andy Cohen. The radio company, headquartered in New York, reaches roughly 255 million listeners and has 33 million subscribers, making it one of North America’s leading audio companies. SiriusXM also owns the streaming service Pandora, which it acquired for $3.5 billion in 2019.

“Every new channel, artist performance, live event, and creator collaboration advances our vision for the future of audio,” Witz said.

If I see one more person saying that the only way to truly experience Christopher Nolan’s vision of “The Odyssey” is to see it in Imax 70mm, I am going to start turning cinephiles into swine.

I understand that this is a technically true statement. As we all know by now, Nolan went on his own hero’s journey with this film, using an unwieldy and extremely loud Imax camera to shoot it (a feat only he and perhaps a few other directors would be given the finances to do). Like many, I applaud his efforts and those that were made to increase the number of theaters capable of projecting Imax 70mm (and 70mm in general).

There is an undisputed cultural magnificence to reimagining a nearly 3,000-year-old tale in the most artistically immersive format currently available to filmmakers. Unfortunately, the vast majority of filmgoers will never be able to see this master vision; only 25 theaters in the country are capable of showing the film in Imax 70mm — eight in California (including four in the L.A. area); two in Colorado, New York, Texas and Tennessee; and one in Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania and Rhode Island.

So a little more than twice the number of U.S. World Cup venues this year. But then, you could watch the World Cup on TV.

Not that you’ll be able to watch “The Odyssey” on TV anytime soon. As a rigorous defender of the theatrical experience, Nolan requires that his films stay in cinemas and off streamers for much longer than the average movie — “The Odyssey” will likely not be available on NBCUniversal’s Peacock until early 2027.

It is a noble mission; movie theaters need all the help they can get and heading into its second weekend, “The Odyssey” has already more than recouped its $250 million production budget. It will need to make between $625 million to $750 million to break even, which seems more than doable. “The Odyssey” could well become the third-ever R-rated movie to gross $1 billion.

Film snobbery notwithstanding, however, much of that will be accomplished via non-Imax 70mm screenings, which come in a near-Homeric list of types. On top of reacquainting the populace with a story that most of us have not thought much about since that middle-school project or college classics class, “The Odyssey” is offering a lesson in “premium formats.”

On the film’s website, one can view the trailer in Imax 70mm, regular Imax, regular 70mm, Dolby Vision and large format. Given the limitation of personal screens, this only reveals the varying frame dimensions, but it’s pretty fun to flick through them.

What is less fun is trying to figure out on which, and where and when, you can actually see the damn thing. While not on par with battling carnivorous Cyclops or world-weary witches, getting a ticket to “The Odyssey,” even after opening weekend, is a voyage filled with many obstacles.

Including but not limited to the recent crash of the AMC app.

I may or may not have contributed to this crisis, having recently spent well over an hour trying to get a measly two tickets.

Though it went against all my anti-elitist beliefs, I did try to leverage my L.A. privilege and see “The Odyssey” as Christopher Nolan intended — in Imax 70mm. Alas, the only seats available for days, even in standard Imax and 70mm, were in the first row. I was forced to “downgrade” to Dolby Vision at the Burbank 16, where, by the grace of Athena, I found two non-front-row seats, albeit in the middle of a weekday. (Mercifully, this actually counts as work for me.)

I am not equipped to argue saturation levels or whatever else differentiates one format from the other, but the Dolby experience was quite immersive, both in cinematic detail (The storms! The slaughter! The suitors’ slopping wine!) and cardiac-disruptive bass notes.

Certainly, I felt a bit like Odysseus as I crept — drained, disoriented and trailing popcorn crumbs like Ithican sand — out into the sun. It was an experience like no other (seriously, to survive Imax 70mm, I might have to go into training).

So I am a bit bewildered as pundits declare that the success of “The Odyssey” reflects some larger theme about what film audiences want. Beyond, you know, a very powerful movie.

This is one of the most singular films made in recent years. So singular that it all but defies any kind of tea-leaf-reading or, heaven forbid, attempts at replication. I don’t see a future in Homeric spinoffs (unless someone wants to do a limited series on Circe, starring Samantha Morton), and while it is vital to celebrate the craft of Imax 70mm filmmaking and projection, the theatrical experience cannot afford to put all, or even many, of its eggs into that basket.

An increased reliance on “premium formats” may seem like an obvious weapon in the increasingly one-sided war between at-home and theatrical viewing, but it is not the answer. Or at least not the only answer. (For one thing, there aren’t enough Imax 70mm cameras or projectors to go around.)

Like sports fans, many cinephiles are happy to spend hours, and dollars, to have the ultimate experience — tales of folks driving across state lines and/or paying thousands to see “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm echoed the recent stories of international visitors saving up for a year to see their team play in the World Cup.

Though marvelously affirming for film fans, this is not a sustainable business plan. Movies are supposed to be for everyone. Not just those with a neighborhood Imax 70mm theater or the ability to pay $30 for a regular Imax seat. Going to the movies should not require hours of research to choose a theater, negotiating with a scalper or finding AI-aided plots to game the system. And there shouldn’t be such an obvious and geographically rigged hierarchy.

Before you know it, Live Nation will be involved and then where will we be?

Christopher Nolan’s non-CGI visions of the Trojan Horse, the Cyclops, the sacking of Troy, the transformation of men into pigs do not require an “ultimate” aspect ratio to be remarkable.

(Melinda Sue Gordon / Universal Pictures)

“The Odyssey” is a legitimate phenomenon and that’s terrific; more power to Nolan and the theaters that benefit. As a solution to flagging box office, well, if Hollywood does not want to go the way of — as Timothée Chalamet famously said — ballet and opera, it cannot afford to become dependent on premium experiences that are accessible only to a small percentage of the audience.

Of course it’s great that “The Odyssey” was shot, and is being shown, in Imax 70mm and regular 70mm, especially in a year when stories that originated on YouTube are also burning up the big screen. Art should never be an equation of replacement. Supporting all manner of work is always the best way of preserving and celebrating the splendid diversity of filmmaking.

No matter how unparalleled the form, it still must follow function. “The Odyssey,” in whatever format it is seen, is an epic adventure with emotional undertones beyond the original story and an existential message that resonates far more than its smattering of modern language. Nolan’s non-CGI visions of the Trojan Horse, the Cyclops, the sacking of Troy, the transformation of men into pigs do not require an “ultimate” aspect ratio to be remarkable.

All the various formats have their proponents and the conversations about them have been entertaining and informative, but no matter the film or screen size, it’s a very good movie.

And that’s the only template Hollywood needs to follow.

Civic pride, sure. But what is it really worth to the city of Anaheim to have its name on the hometown baseball team?

Hundreds of millions of dollars, the city has said. As the Angels’ stadium lease approaches its end, and as Anaheim prepares for negotiations either with Arte Moreno or a potential new owner, it’s worth keeping in mind.

So too is a concept floating around City Hall in Anaheim: What if we could put a new stadium and a youth sports complex next to one another?

Nothing is imminent, and even a bill winding its way through the state legislature would not necessarily require the Angels to return Anaheim to the team name.

It’s leverage: If the Angels’ owner wants to build atop the stadium parking lots, the city can pursue an exemption to a state law that currently restricts what can be built there, which could mean more money for the team and its development partners. In exchange for the exemption, the team name would revert to the Anaheim Angels.

If that’s the carrot, this is the stick: The city would have to approve the zoning changes that could make the land “two to three times more valuable than it is as a parking lot,” Anaheim Mayor Ashleigh Aitken said.

Said Aitken: “There are no gifts. For an ownership to truly be a partner to the city in what that property could be, there is going to have to be some realization that Anaheim is not Los Angeles.”

The Angels’ stadium lease expires in 2032, and the team can extend it through 2038. A new owner could move the Angels — or at least leverage the threat of a move — but Anaheim offers a 150-acre site with what every owner in pro sports covets: land around the venue to turn the property into a year-round money-making operation.

The standard ballpark villages include restaurants, shops, hotels, homes, offices and entertainment venues. The Ducks are launching one, called OC Vibe, around Honda Center, and within walking distance of Angel Stadium.

What intrigues the city, for at least part of the parking lots around Angel Stadium: a youth sports park for all those travel ball teams. Ontario is building a 199-acre one around a minor league ballpark; Irvine has a 194-acre one up and running at its Great Park.

Katie Wright, who books sports events for Anaheim’s tourism bureau, said there would be a market if her city built a sports park.

“The demand for, specifically, soccer, baseball and softball is tremendous,” Wright told the Anaheim City Council in April. “They would be filled every single weekend, I think.”

What Anaheim has that Ontario and Irvine do not: Disneyland down the street for visiting families, a variety of restaurants within walking distance, and hotel rooms aplenty. In Anaheim, 40% of the city’s general fund comes from taxes on hotel rooms.

“With Angels baseball right next to a youth sports facility, to have the synergy of hotels and restaurants, and players interacting with the Little League kids and soccer fields,” Aitken said, “I just think it’s a unique opportunity.”

Everything old is new again: In 1996, Anaheim pitched a youth sports center called the “Little A” in part of the stadium parking lots as part of a ballpark village that never materialized.

What might be in the best interest of the city now might not be in that of the developer, whether that turns out to be the Angels or a real estate partner. While a sports park might drive tax revenues to the city, a developer might pay the most for land used for hotel and retail properties, said Louis Tomaselli, the Irvine-based executive managing director at JLL, a nationally prominent commercial real estate brokerage.

“A youth sports complex would likely be at or near the bottom from a land value perspective,” Tomaselli said.

That’s all part of the negotiation, and for now the city of Anaheim has no party with which to negotiate. That leaves room for all sorts of brainstorming, including Aitken’s curiosity about flanking the development with high-rise residential buildings, similar to the condominiums that have risen next to Petco Park in San Diego. In some of them, you can watch the game from your balcony.

But let’s get back to the value of the Anaheim name on the baseball team.

“A lot of times, we get the question, ‘Exactly where is Anaheim?’” Wright, the Anaheim tourism official, told the City Council. “We’re always fighting to say, ‘We’re not L.A.’”

In 2005, when Anaheim sued the Angels after Moreno slapped the Los Angeles label on the team, the city commissioned experts that testified the name change would cost Anaheim nearly $200 million over the following decade and close to $400 million through 2029. The Angels dismissed both numbers as wildly high, but that is what the city presented in court.

I asked Sean Moran of Los Angeles-based Innovative Partnerships Group for an update. Moran estimated the worth of the Anaheim name at $26.5 million per year — or more than $500 million over the life of a 20-year deal — based on the value of references to the city on game broadcasts, digital and social media, highlight clips, betting sites, in fantasy leagues, and more.

“I don’t think you can put a monetary value on civic pride and respecting your fan base,” Aitken said. “So, if a new owner wants to come in and start fresh and really respect the fan base in Orange County, the name should not even be a negotiating point.

“It should be the first thing you do, out of respect for where this team is located, and the fan base that is so loyal in good times and bad.”

Perhaps. But, if I’m the new owner of the Angels and the city is on record saying its name on the team is worth hundreds of millions of dollars, the first thing I say to the city in negotiations is: You can get your name on the team for that $500 million, which would help me build a new ballpark that could cost $1.5 billion.

Who else could benefit from that? Moreno, as the need for a new owner to pay for a ballpark could lower the sale price.

Even without that exemption from state law, a new owner could pursue a fair amount of development on land Anaheim has failed to develop for 60 years, on a site the city’s own land use plan envisions as “an exciting mix of high energy uses while providing additional housing.” Or a new owner could simply inherit the existing lease and deal with potential development later.

You can start to get the shape of what the bargaining might look like. Avelino Valencia (D-Anaheim), the assembly member who introduced the bill in Sacramento intended to spur the return of the Anaheim Angels name, included a provision that says resolution would take precedence over legislation.

“If there is another outcome that takes place, in negotiations or deal-wise, there would be no need for this, right?” Valencia said.

All of that could be years down the road, so no sense arguing all the finer points now. Aitken promises a series of community meetings first, so that Anaheim residents can share how they envision the future of the Angel Stadium property, with or without a baseball stadium.

This should come up for discussion too: The Anaheim Angels name might be ideal for the city, but what, if anything, should the city give up to get it? The last time the city asked, Moreno just said no. If a new owner would be willing, should the taxpayers of Anaheim consider subsidizing the name?

More than any other artist in the 20th century, David Hockney defined Los Angeles in the public imagination. When he first arrived in January 1964, age 26, his mental image of the city had been forged not by art but by Hollywood movies, which he had watched as a young boy in Yorkshire, England. In later life, he often recollected the sharp-edged shadows cast by the Californian sunlight in movies such as Laurel and Hardy’s “Big Business.

Before he ever went to L.A., Hockney — who died Thursday at 88 — knew that he would love it. Writing about his first descent into the city, he recalled how “as I flew over San Bernardino and looked down — and saw the swimming pools and the houses and everything and the sun, I was more thrilled than I’ve ever been arriving at any other city, including New York.” By this time, the glamour of Hollywood had been compounded by other influences, including the homoerotic magazines that an American friend had given him at the Royal College of Art in London. Titles such as Physique Pictorial, published in L.A. by the pioneering “beefcake” photographer Bob Mizer, held out a promise of California as a paradise of rippling men and permanent sunshine. A darker, no less thrilling image of the city had arisen from Hockney’s reading of “City of Night,” the 1963 novel by John Rechy that tells the story of a hustler in the gay underworld of downtown L.A.

Los Angeles itself felt young to Hockney. He loved the light, the architecture, the sense of space and the sense of possibility — not least the possibility of greater sexual freedom. West Hollywood boasted a large gay bar, the Red Raven on Melrose Avenue, that was unlike anything he had found in London or New York. There was also the lure of the beach, with its pageant of sculpted physiques. Venice Beach struck him as a more body-beautiful version of London’s Portobello Road.

Before long, his work shifted from generic fantasies of the city (a young man showering in Beverly Hills, for instance) to vivid portrayals of its real-life pools, palm trees, architecture and people. American artists such as Edward Ruscha and Edward Kienholz were producing their own canonical images of L.A. in these years, but for Hockney, there were no artistic precedents — “no ghosts,” as he later put it — to live up to. “People then didn’t even know what it looked like,” he once said. “And when I was there, they were still finishing up some of the big freeways.… I suddenly thought: ‘My God, this place needs its Piranesi, Los Angeles could have a Piranesi, so here I am!’ ”

He was true to his word, even if his luminous, serene images of the city were a far cry from Giovanni Battista Piranesi’s feverish visions of Baroque Rome. “Beverly Hills Housewife” (1966), a portrait of a pink-dressed collector in her modernist home, marked the onset of a realist style that would define Hockney’s work for the next decade. This era gave rise to paintings that became icons of their time and place. Among them were “A Bigger Splash” (1967), which was based on a magazine cover that he came across on a newsstand, and “Christopher Isherwood and Don Bachardy” (1968, sold last year at Christie’s New York for $44.3 million). Inspired by Hans Holbein, this portrait of the English novelist and his artist partner was one of the first celebratory portrayals of a gay couple. Hockney would later recount how Isherwood proclaimed: “Oh David, we’ve so much in common; we love California, we love American boys, and we’re both from the north of England.” Hockney’s beloved American boy at this time was Peter Schlesinger, a young artist he had met while teaching at UCLA in the summer 1966 — and a recurring presence in the early L.A. pictures.

According to Norman Rosenthal, who curated a major survey of Hockney’s art at the Fondation Louis Vuitton in Paris last year: “It is astonishing that a boy from a poor family in Bradford became the person — partly because of his gayness, but also his talent — who defined what everybody now thinks of as California. L.A. had no real image in the world before then, unlike New York.”

Despite his enchantment with Los Angeles, Hockney didn’t settle there until 1978, after a decade of bouncing between America and Europe. In the summer of 1979 he moved into a house in the Hollywood Hills, and soon adorned its pool with swishing strokes of blue paint. In the early 1980s, he converted the paddle tennis court into a studio. The meandering routes and Mediterranean scenery of the Hills were a fresh source of amazement, giving rise to monumental depictions of Mulholland Drive and Nichols Canyon in a newly abstract style.

By this time, the city was deeply familiar — a second home — and he had a close circle of friends around him who included the patron Betty Freeman (subject of “Beverly Hills Housewife”), the designer Gregory Evans, the gallery owner Nicholas Wilder and the film producer Joe Simon. “L.A. had represented a whole new world for him,” says Simon, who remained in regular contact with the artist until his final days. “He just loved the light. He was like a kid in a candy store when he first came. But David was all about the work. Everything came back to that.”

In recent decades, Hockney’s name had become synonymous with the landscapes of his native Yorkshire, which he began painting prolifically in the early 2000s. But Los Angeles never lost its newness and promise. His house in the Hills remained a sanctuary until his final years, when he was too frail to travel. L.A. was where he had come of age, and it remained an indelible part of his life and psyche — not least in terms of its egalitarian spirit and its tendency toward the horizontal. “The great thing about Hockney was that he spoke to everybody,” says Rosenthal. “Few artists of his world and his generation could do that.”

James Cahill, a novelist and an art critic, is the author of, among other books, “David Hockney” and the forthcoming “The Beverly Hills Housewife: Hockney’s Californian Muse and the World Beyond the Pool.”

Hollywood has been waiting for Kane Parsons since the year he was born. The 20-year-old director is the same age as YouTube’s first videos and grew up with no barriers between his creativity and an audience. “Backrooms,” his debut feature, marks the start of a new new wave of filmmakers raised by internet feedback who are ready to reinvigorate the industry.

Young Steven Spielberg screened his 8mm reels for his neighborhood. Parsons uploaded his early shorts online where he could analyze the mass response. When one, an unsettling nine-minute experiment about a warren of dingy carpets, taffy-yellow walls and gridded drop ceilings clicked with 78 million viewers, he made sequels. A24 offered Parsons a deal before he finished high school. He’s graduating into multiplexes having spent his adolescence writing, directing, editing, composing and market-testing what people want to watch. I’d toast to that, but Parsons isn’t old enough for Champagne.

Given that backdrop, “Backrooms” would be one of the year’s most significant releases even if the movie itself was merely fine. But it’s better than fine — it’s a work of honest-to-goodness art. Working with screenwriter Will Soodik, Parsons has gone back into that banal maze to find an uncannily mature story about loss and stagnation, about how our self-serving narratives barricade us from emotional growth.

Set in 1990, “Backrooms” has the fritz of an old VHS tape. (Like so many other Gen Z kids, Parsons is nostalgic for a pre-smartphone era he never knew.) A failed architect-turned-furniture salesman named Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor, superbly expressive) tumbles through a portal in his store’s basement to the backrooms of the title — less Alice in Wonderland, more Alice in Wonderbland.

“It’s like it was made by a bunch of construction workers on acid,” he muses. The hallways lead to more hallways, the overhead fluorescents whine like hornets. Someone — or something — has piled lamps and stools into the center of one room, scattered chairs in another and embedded shoes into the floor as though the ground were made of sand. The disorder looks like the wreckage of an unknown chaos. Aboveground, Clark is trapped in his own resentments, throwing temper tantrums like a toddler. Down here, frustration feels natural.

Should he be afraid? And if so, then what of?

Distant thuds warn that Clark isn’t alone. Soon after, three other characters follow Clark into this liminal space: his loud employees Bobby and Kat (Finn Bennett and Lukita Maxwell) and his exasperated therapist, Dr. Mary Kline (Renate Reinsve), who is haunted by flashbacks of her agoraphobic mother. There’s also a mysterious man in a lab coat (Mark Duplass) who works for a company that factors into the backrooms’ preexisting internet lore, but doesn’t have much purpose in this script. It’s fine just to see Duplass as a gesture toward corporate apathy. More beings will appear too and cinematographer Jeremy Cox’s deliberately low-fi look forces you to do triple and quadruple takes to comprehend what you’re even seeing.

How does a 20-year-old fathom adult-sized discontent? Lord knows, but Parsons does. One theory is that today’s 20-year-olds were just launching into teenhood when the pandemic teleported them from their classrooms to isolated computer screens. Meanwhile, they overheard their parents fret that society might be forever hollowed out. When a young person looks toward the future, what do they see? Probably not an office building bustling with entry-level jobs.

Think about how the act of buying a couch no longer involves interacting with a salesman like Clark, but peering at a pixelated living room that doesn’t actually exist with a couch that changes colors at a tap. Think about how lately the internet at large feels human-less. Then layer that emptiness over the images here.

Sparse yet gripping, “Backrooms” and its minimalist story accommodate the audience’s own free-ranging imagination. The infinite size of these drab catacombs triggers sense-memories of feeling small and confused in an ordinary place that feels all wrong. It’s a time travel trip back to childhood — mass entertainment made intimate — with Parsons tossing us scraps of Clark and Mary’s personal histories like a breadcrumb trail. I remembered what it felt like to get lost in a motel on a road trip with my grandparents. More recently, I tidied the home of a friend who was in the hospital, the pill bottles and crumpled blankets left in situ as evidence of someone else’s pain. “Backrooms” felt like that, too.

There’s an incredible special effects shot where the camera sinks through the floor of Mary’s living room to find a mutation of the same room — and then another and another — each replica deteriorating further from reality until it becomes a new room altogether that would fit right into the backrooms. This, we wordlessly understand, represents how memories of the past can be at once factually inaccurate and emotionally true. We’ve all been bewildered kids, Parsons more recently than most. Some of the most powerful people on Earth still behave like they’re stuck in that headspace.

Describing “Backrooms” as a horror film doesn’t feel exactly right. It’s a surrealist painting in motion, the equivalent of staring at Salvador Dali’s wasteland of melting clocks until it makes gut-sense. Dali made that famous masterpiece, “The Persistence of Memory,” in 1931, a breath-holding moment between wars when daily life looked normal enough but vibrated with the dread that no, things were definitely not OK. Kids don’t know that, but they vibe with Dali anyway because he keys into their suspicion that the world doesn’t really obey the rules.

That anxiety hums through “Backrooms.” It’s why millions of people watched and shared the original short. Yet as fraught as it sounds — and as abruptly as it ends — I left elated. A major new moviemaking talent has arrived and he’s the beginning of a movement. Other internet-honed young filmmakers will follow with their own fresh insights into genres like action, comedy and romance. Kane Parsons is just the first one through Hollywood’s labyrinth.

If anyone needs the axiom “Tell me who you’re with, and I’ll tell you who you are” whispered to them every morning as a reminder to do better, it’s Spencer Pratt.

Can someone do that ASAP, por favor?

Instead of holding events around Los Angeles to convince skeptics that his mayoral campaign is for everyone, the former reality television bad boy has bunkered himself inside an echo chamber of sycophants, friendly podcasters and milquetoast media outlets.

Instead of offering an on-ramp to join his pissed-off posse, he calls Mayor Karen Bass “Basura” — trash — and her supporters “Bassholes,” insults that his followers share and like on social media by the thousands.

Instead of enlisting surrogates to push an uplifting vision for L.A.’s future, Pratt elevates those who speak of the city as a West Coast Chernobyl.

He’s running on a message of righteous fury as a survivor of the Palisades fire, in an era when many Angelenos feel pessimistic about what’s next. In recent months, he’s raised funds at a faster pace than Bass and City Councilmember Nithya Raman and delivered a decent debate performance, while holding strong in the polls with two weeks left before the June 2 primary.

Now that Pratt has shown his electoral quest isn’t a farce, it’s time he shows all Angelenos that they can rely on a Republican entertainer with no political experience to head a largely progressive, multicultural metropolis.

Instead, he continues to double down on his doomsday message, exciting the type of people who have been whining that L.A. is a “Lost Cause” since the days of the Watts riots.

They’re the ones depicting Pratt in AI-generated videos as a superhero — Batman, Luke Skywalker and a gladiator, among others — battling Bass, cast as a clown, Darth Vader, the Joker or as herself handing out needles to half-crazed homeless people.

They hound anyone who points out that L.A. is nowhere near as apocalyptic as they make it out to be, when homicides are at their lowest since the 1960s, burglaries are down 30% from last year and unsheltered homelessness has dropped two years in a row. They follow Pratt’s example and call unhoused people with drug problems “zombies” and “bums” while depicting the L.A. of the past as a problem-free playground out of “The Wonderful World of Disney” that derailed once Democrats took over.

Not all of Pratt’s supporters are this obnoxious. But he repeatedly platforms the worst of them and shows no signs of stopping. That nihilism might sell books and gain followers — but it’s no way to prove to Angelenos he’s serious about fixing anything other than his reputation.

Mayoral candidate Spencer Pratt, left, poses with a supporter during a campaign event in Sherman Oaks.

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

Anyone who truly loves the city complains about it even on its best days. They realize L.A. can never be perfect, and that’s what makes it so wonderful. When people try to better their part of paradise, everyone benefits.

But Pratt needs to realize that Angelenos don’t want the city to be torn down, as dissatisfied as they may be. Criticizing the status quo is necessary — but waging a campaign of humiliation, a la Donald Trump, isn’t how to heal L.A. It won’t get large swaths of the city on your side, and it can’t spark the true change City Hall so desperately needs.

Instead, we get people like former Times contributor Meghan Daum — who now calls herself the “official Liberal Elite for Pratt” — gushing in the Atlantic about how her man is the “factory-reset option” to Make L.A. Great Again.

Resetting to when, Meghan? The 2000s of the Great Recession? The 1990s of anti-immigrant policies, the Northridge earthquake and the riots? The 1980s and its out-of-control gangs? The white flight of the 1960s? The 1950s of legal segregation and hideous smog?

Or just to the days when the problems that have long racked L.A. didn’t lap up to the denizens of Prattland — until they did?

These are the people who stayed largely silent as Trump unleashed ICE goons across Los Angeles last summer. They said nothing about housing affordability and violent crime in the years when those issues primarily afflicted South L.A. and the Eastside. They didn’t have a fit about homelessness until encampments spread beyond Skid Row.

Pratt’s loudest fans fundamentally loathe modern-day L.A., and that should chill all other Angelenos. These haters would be his primary constituents and populate his brain trust if he does beat Bass — and if he lets them take over, heaven help the City of Angels.

I’m not discounting Pratt’s chances of winning — he’s too savvy a media pro to fully flop. I knew Bass and Raman would misjudge the anger of Angelenos, fail to capitalize on that rage and find themselves on the defensive against Pratt’s populist push. I also figured he would eschew politeness for the demonizing that has tainted past L.A. elections, from Yorty’s mayoral campaigns of the 1960s to the San Fernando Valley secession movement a generation ago to the continued charges of communism thrown at the democratic socialist wing of the City Council.

I don’t blame Pratt for jumping into the race after his life was upended. And I sure don’t underestimate L.A.’s middle-class malaise, long a reactionary force in city politics with a winning track record that spans decades. But I can’t trust the guy and his crew for just now beginning to say they care about reforming L.A., when all he has fought for is his dark idea of the city.

And if you think L.A. needs a complete makeover, then you probably never really loved it in the first place.

On a recent podcast with Adam Carolla — who has long railed against L.A.’s liberal, multicultural ways and is planning to move to Nevada after his children graduate high school — Pratt huffed that he will “be done with trying to live” in the city if he doesn’t become mayor.

“I’ll go find somewhere that my kids will not have to see naked zombies,” he said, in a comment that was cheered on and seconded by his online army.

Do Angelenos really want to entrust their city to someone who might pick up his ball and quit on a place he professes to love, if he doesn’t get his way?