After deciding to enroll at UCLA as a transfer student last
summer, I quickly packed up my belongings and hauled them from my
astonishingly affordable Venice apartment to pricier digs here in
Westwood. Sure, I would miss the beach, and I’d have to eat
out of tin cans to afford the place, but being able to walk to
class and avoid a hellish commute every morning would make it all
worthwhile. Plus, Westwood seemed like a pretty happening place to
be. There’s so much to do here in Westwood, I rationalized.
Isn’t there?
A year later, and only slightly wiser, I can tell you the
walking to class bit has worked out great, but as far Westwood
providing a haven of exciting nightlife and hip spots to meet up
with friends, I definitely feel cheated. The truth about Westwood
Village is that it seems so much more interesting than it really
is.
Filled with historic buildings, cute signpost motifs on the
sidewalks and a deceptive hustle and bustle vibe usually associated
with the best neighborhoods of great cities, our little UCLA
neighborhood does have a certain amount of charm. I will even admit
to unprovoked smiling every so often while walking back to campus
after eating lunch, when a cool breeze whips through the handsome,
tree-lined streets and I remember why I moved to California in the
first place.
But say it’s Friday night; you and a few friends want to
head out and tear it up, and you’re trying to decide where to
go. Unless you’re willing and able to drive at least 20
minutes east or west of Westwood, chances are you’ll be
spending the evening camped out on the floor of someone’s
apartment, nursing a warm beer and wondering how Los Angeles ever
got the reputation of being a party town.
So how in the world did Westwood, filled to the brim with young
college students eager to have some serious fun, end up this way?
Sure, there’s a couple of cookie-cutter Irish college pubs
nearby, but one or two visits to Maloney’s on a weekend night
and you’ve pretty much had your fill of bad music and
desperate, rowdy drunks looking to hook up.
It turns out that the illusory quality of our little hamlet has
historical background, at least, if you consider events from the
1980s old enough to be historical. Once upon a time, say about 20
years ago, Westwood actually used to be fun. There were bars, dance
clubs and the streets would be packed with young people out on the
town. It was the place to be, a magnet for the tragically hip and
boldly beautiful.
Westwood Village was so cool, in fact, that Los Angeles-area
gang members started frequenting the area as well. Suddenly,
violence became commonplace. The 1988 fatal shooting of Karen
Toshima, a 27-year-old bystander caught in the crossfire of rival
gangs, was the last straw. The Los Angeles Police Department beefed
up its presence here, businesses closed, and soon enough, Westwood
was virtually deserted on Saturday nights.
Compared with that time, Westwood Village is actually a lively
place once again. New restaurants are opening (even if they are
mostly of the big chain variety, thanks to skyrocketing rent
prices), people cruise the streets at night and any fear of serious
violence seems to have been erased from the public consciousness.
But the neighborhood has yet to return to its original glory, and
in the meantime, we’re stuck with those two faithful pastimes
that have always been an integral part of L.A. living: dinners and
movies.
Even if there aren’t trendy hot spots or friendly watering
holes, you can rely on Westwood’s classic, single-screen
movie houses and a handful of charming bistros and affordable,
student-friendly eateries to satiate your need to get out of your
cramped dorm room. So without further ado, we present a brief guide
to the local theaters, and a few nearby restaurants you might not
notice unless you’re really looking. Westwood might not be
the place to be anymore, but it’s where you are, so make the
most of it.
Mathis’ favorite bars in Los Angeles are Max’s
on Fairfax Avenue and Liquid Kitty on Pico Boulevard. E-mail her at
smathis@media.ucla.edu.