L.A. in the aggregate can be mind-boggling. But taken as a collection of cells, each with its unique human center — in some cases a strip mall, in others a beach, in yet others, a local Mexican restaurant — it is far more manageable. L.A. is the ultimate post-modern city, anti-institution if you will. There is no big central nervous system running the whole mess. It’s a diffused collection of synapses operating independently and in concert, a messy democratic landscape. This is a city that doesn’t easily reveal itself, which requires, of the viewer, patience and methodological study — beyond a visit to Sharon Stone’s living room and Olvera Street. (Though there’s a place at the latter that sells terrific churros.)