There's a lot to like in a film that is timely not just for its direct topic and its relation to current events but the way in which its topic is filmed. Knowing the story of this year's Fruitvale Station, one can make obvious connections to the more recent Trayvon Martin case. Yet, this film makes the noble decision to observe rather than endow this story with a nigh propagandistic message. In case you don't know, Fruitvale Station, directed by newcomer Ryan Coogler, is about a 2009 incident where Oscar Grant was shot and killed by a BART police officer and was captured on camera phones and seen my millions of people.
This unfortunate narrative could be easily the launchpad for scathing ultimatums of racism in America. Coogler, instead, focuses on the life of Oscar Grant the day of his death, following him and his everyday activity, as well as his struggles and complexities. This film, for its subject matter, is quite objective, the only narrative function that forced upon us is twofold: a flashback that gives depth to Oscar's relationship with his mother as well as provide a foreshadow to Oscar's death and, at the beginning of the film, lengthy footage of the actual event. The showing of the actual footage functions the same as the famous 'Rosebud' scene at the beginning of Citizen Kane and the commencement of writing the journal in Kind Hearts and Coronets; what is ultimately established is the process by which we get to this conclusion...in other words, the filmmaker is more concerned about Oscar Grant as person than the shooting itself. Other than that, there is only a loose thread the narrative follows, which is basically the time of day, though we as the viewers associate choices made among the characters with hindsight bias as we know what will happen in the end.
Stylistically, this approach of observation is much more involved than one would expect. This is much to do with the curious cinematography employed allowing the handheld camera to capture scenes between characters with surprising intimacy (rather than, say, a more objective long shot or long take...the film has few long takes). Conversations are filmed in mostly medium to medium close up shots; I do not think a tripod was used in this film at all. Cinema verite can be seen as influential not just in the handheld aesthetic but also in the spontaneous focusing of the camera. In the scene of the mother's birthday (played with heartfelt strength by the wonderful Octavia Spencer), we see the women prepare dinner, with Oscar's girlfriend, Sophina (also played beautifully by Melonie Diaz), in the extreme foreground, Oscar's daughter in the middle ground, and the mother in the background. The camera, during this whole exchange of gentle humor and camaraderie, focuses in and out of these characters, as if trying to find the most exciting, and poignant, moment among this celebratory event, something like a home video technique.
Scenes in this film flow like life itself, they just fall in place one after another. There is no build up and there is really no fabricated construction of set pieces to progress the plot because there is no plot, it ehoes an Ozunian approach. All we see is Oscar trying to find a new path in life, we get all the necessary information in the abbreviated yet passionate dialogue between Oscar and Sophina, and his mother. It is dialogue that vibrates with culture and colorful dialect. Coogler makes sure not to dumb it down so that it is 'easier' to understand by all. Yet, in essence of its observing nature, some scenes in the film have several characters in the frame, some talking to some while others talk to others. The sound mixers choose not to isolate one piece of conversation (again, other films would do that because it is important for plot progression) and let the culminating sound of a small crowd conversing dominate. These scenes, an example being as Oscar and his friends ride an escalator to during their activities downtown New Year's night. In a medium shot, with maybe seven people in frame but restricted to the narrowness of the escalator, we don't hear a conversation but we hear conversations. This scene and other scenes like it invoke a pulsating sense of humanity and refreshing normalcy (again, when you take into account what the conclusion to this story is) and, in turn, I admire such scenes greatly as it shows ample care for the craft and the subject.
Alas, when we take the aesthetics of Fruitvale Station and put it up to comparisons, I'm sure it won't take very long to place this film with the canonical Spike Lee film Do the Right Thing. Lee's 1989 film is ferocious in style and in substance. It is a great piece of work, depicting an event that is similar to this recent film, yet it is formulated in a vastly different manner. Anchored by the viscous and expressionistic cinematography from the renowned cinematographer Ernest Dickerson, the film's narrative progression correlates with the increase of tension between the characters as stereotypes begin to swell into racism and finally into physical hatred. In Lee's film, scenes are constructed to develop characters and their relationships with others, setting up an environment that implodes but also dictates actions of certain characters during this implosion. Characters are developed not just through dialogue but also through cinematography, where the camera angles reflecting an increasing instability within the community, including the famous shot-reverse-shots between Radio Raheem and Sal. Ultimately, Do the Right Thing establishes a problem and Spike Lee gives us some sort of an answer, albeit ambiguous. This film serves more as a parable reflecting real social problems rather than a moment of observance in which these social problems encroach upon, which is what Fruitvale Station depicts.
Ryan Coogler is not interested in making bold statements in lieu to Lee's narrative focus, he is more intent on showing us a state of mind. Furthermore, he does not want to establish a conflicting dichotomy between cultures, races, even though it is hard not to in such a situation as in Oscar Grant's death. If he wanted to make more of a statement on such fragmentary social issues, he probably would have illustrated more of a backstory to the police officers. No, Coogler is more interested in how Grant lived and how his death interrupted his living and thus, issuing an expression of what he felt the general mentality was among the residents of the Bay Area. On imdb, a quote from Coogler is shown referring to his debut film and I find it rather profound:
[re making Fruitvale Station (2013)] We shot here [BART station] for three nights after the station was closed, Everybody was there with us: BART employees, safety monitors, train drivers, all the cast members and crew. Some of us would pray; others would just keep to themselves. The energy of it hit everybody. It was the hardest thing I've done in my life, making this movie. Having to see [real-life hero] Oscar die so many times. And having to see the people react to it. That never gets easy, man. Never.
[re Oscar Grant's murder] It really caused an identity crisis here in the Bay Area because we think of ourselves as the most progressive place, the most diverse place, the most accepting place in the country. I grew up with white friends, Asian friends - Vietnamese, Chinese, Pacific Islanders. I had Hispanic friends, not just Mexican friends, but Guatemalan friends, Honduran friends, and we knew the difference, you know? So when we saw that happen to Oscar, and we saw it on video, it was like the wind getting knocked out of us. I was questioning who we were as a community.
Confusion, I feel, is the most prominent mentality among these people Coogler speaks of. Here we have a film that observes the life of an individual, there really is no attempt to pervade Grant's life. When it comes to the shocking episode of spontaneous and explosive tension, we as an audience and the characters within the film can only look on in shock. It is crucial that the film ends the way it does, where the daughter asks Sophina the difficult question, "Where is daddy?" Her confusion parallels our confusion and Sophina's shock parallels our shock and that is what we are left with, what Coogler is left with...an unanswerable question.
Coogler does a wonderful job at absorbing us into the life of Oscar Grant, the joys, desires, pains, and fears he faces, all this expressed so authentically by a grand performance by Michael B. Jordan. And then just like that, he is gone. The film does not make any indictments, it just states what happened to the police officer and how the community responded. Coogler is just as confused as many other people, but he is not hasty in making rash generalizations and difficult conclusions. In this superb and important film, all Ryan Coogler really wanted to do was peer into a life cut short, to make a human connection with an individual taken away form this world in what seemed like a ball of fire. To me, here is a chance to see world so close yet so unfamiliar to me. I cherish this possibility in film.
Note: I watched this film at an art cinema in Indianapolis. There were three trailers that played, two out of the three were focused on African American history and stories, one of them directed by an African American in Lee Daniels (who directed Precious), The Butler, the other directed by Steve McQueen who is specifically African British (I think that is the right term...), 12 Years a Slave. This is an important for African American cinema, maybe just as momentous as when Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing stormed into the world with mass hysteria. Keep your eyes on these films and filmmakers (I can't wait to see Coogler's next project) because I wouldn't be surprised if all three of these films are in the running for Best Picture in next year's Oscars.
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