I take back everythiing I said about Los Angeles being artistically and culturally bankrupt. Sure, LACMA is not the MET, but at least they have a nice bar (not kidding) so you can sit and wax hyperbole in a post-modern setting while enjoying a round of trendy ______________, served by a M.A.W.(Model/Actress/Whatever) with a gorgeous, fake smile that you've come to expect in Los Angeles (I'm going to say it first. Bitter, party of one. Totally).
That's right, no glass. No cage, not a single perimeter rope, or "Do not touch" sign in the entire exhibit. LACMA is putting lots of faith in presuming that the cinephiles who come to see this exhibit will behave perfectly in the presence of so many one-of-a-kind, religious artifacts. Imagine worshiping a god for most of your life, but not seeing the inside of a church until you're, let's say 30's. My incredible sense of awe was only matched by the energy expended by the part of my brain that modulates proper behavior, like self-control and discipline. I'll stop my yammering so you can enjoy the exhibit.