Written and Directed by Ryan Coogler
**** (four stars)
"I didn't raise you to be in this kind of a world."
My Father said those words to me not terribly long ago during a weekend phone call during which we had a lively conversation about the politics of the day. Those same words have continued to echo in my brain as I watch the news as well as the local political events that surround me in Madison, WI. Those same words have never echoed as loudly as they did after the United States Supreme Court's devastating decision to eliminate Section 4 of The Voting Rights Act of 1965 and even more powerfully, after the unthinkable jury decision to allow that racist child murderer George Zimmerman walk away free after ending the life of Trayvon Martin.
Dear readers, while I am a person who carries a certain utopian vision of the world, I am by no means remotely naive as to how the world actually works. That said, I do not believe that I have ever previously lived during a period in which I have felt so frightened just because of my skin color. It feels that despite the presence and reality of having Barack Obama as the President of the United States, racist attitudes have become even more overt, direct and boldly out in the open than I can even think to remember. I distinctly remember the night when President Obama won the election for his first term in office and I watched the glorious celebration in Chicago's Grant Park. Announcers and commentators remarked and pondered if by electing America's first Black President, have we now entered into a new "post-racial society." Immediately I thought to myself, "Are you kidding me?! It's only going to get worse." Little did I know how much worse...
This afternoon, I went to a screening of Writer/Director Ryan Coogler's debut feature film, "Fruitvale Station," a haunting docudrama based upon the true story about the final day in the life of 22 year old Oscar Julius Grant III, an African-American who was shot and killed by a Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) police officer at the Fruitvale train station located in Oakland, California in the early morning hours of New Year's Day 2009. Whatever cosmic symmetry has unfolded that has allowed this particular film to be released to the world at this time is of course unknown, but its arrival could not be more timely even if it had been calculated. We have long past the point where we all need to have an open and honest dialogue about race, violence, police brutality, an indifferent justice system and the corruption of power but even as "Fruitvale Station" places all of these issues front and center, it is the topic of humanity for all people that rises to the top. While this film is not nearly the iconic slice of life powder keg that we saw almost 25 years ago in Writer/Producer/Director Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing" (1989), "Fruitvale Station" is a moodier update of the same social/political/racial landscape, illustrating how much things have actually not changed in this country. That is what makes this film such a quietly devastating work, so much so that it left me sitting solemnly in my theater seat long after the the end credits had scrolled and the ushers had cleaned the theater. I urge all of you to head out and see this film for yourselves.
"Fruitvale Station" stars Michael B. Jordan (you may remember him from HBO's "The Wire" or in last year's terrific thriller "Chronicle") in a wonderfully naturalistic performance as Oscar Julius Grant III. As previously stated, this film is not remotely plot driven but essentially an intimate drop-in into what would become the final day of his life. We see his relationship with his long time girlfriend Sophina (Melonie Diaz) and the joy he carries for their daughter Tatiana (Ariana Neal). We see him planning for his Mother, Wanda Grant's (Octavia Spencer), birthday dinner/party. We see him interact with his friends, enemies and even strangers on this fateful day, while also witnessing Oscar's brutally pre-empted journey to piecing his life back together after being released from prison, presumably for drug dealing. The film culminates with Oscar's final moments when he and his friends, celebrating on New Year's Eve, are apprehended by BART police responding to calls of a fight on the train. Oscar Grant, who was unarmed, handcuffed and laid face down upon the pavement was shot in the back by an officer and he died several hours later.
With "Fruitvale Station," Ryan Coogler has made a confident, sure handed debut feature film that is completely sobering as it is empathetic and humane. He possesses an easy, unforced directorial hand, making the bulk of the film appropriately mundane in its natural, everyday tone and approach. Michael B. Jordan has elicited a performance of such skill and seemingly effortlessness that I think it would be very easy to actually not see how committed he truly is to bringing the story of this young man to life. While the confrontation, shooting and death of Oscar Grant is appropriately intense and carries an equally appropriate sense of moral outrage, for much of the film's running time, Coogler and Jordan focus not upon the tragedy of Oscar Grant's death but utilizes "Fruitvale Station" more as a character portrait of a young man taking stock and trying to straighten himself from his more philandering, violent past. By doing so, the loss of life that we do see is completely upending as Coogler demonstrates not only how rapidly celebration can transform into terror but he remarks painfully upon the fragility of life itself, especially for young African-American males in this country.
Just watch Jordan during an early sequence set in a market where Oscar Grant was once employed in the butcher section. As he arrives to purchase some crabs for his Mother's birthday dinner, we see him interact not only with a friend but also with a confused, pretty young customer (played by Ahna O'Reilly) seeking the proper fish to buy for a fish fry dinner but also with his former employer who will not re-hire him to his former position due to his questionable past. Michael B. Jordan is able to slide back and forth from jovial to slyly flirtatious and accommodating to flashes of brutality and violence in a blink of an eye giving us in mere moments, the fullness of Oscar Grant's life and emotional palate as a son, friend, former criminal, grandson, child and emerging adult. Jordan brilliantly elicits Oscar's continuing struggle with the very past impulses that landed him in prison in the first place and the new manhood he wishes to ascend to. Michael B. Jordan is remarkable from start to finish and I sincerely hope that this performance is the very one that will begin to attract him to more filmmakers itching to find fresh, young talent as strong as this.
But "Fruitvale Station" has something much greater on its mind than just bringing a new-ish actor to the forefront. What Coogler, his team and his entire cast have accomplished so powerfully is the very thing some critics have even criticized this film for. Some reviews has referred to "Fruitvale Station" as being the type of movie that needlessly succumbs to shameless audience manipulation when the inherent drama of the story is fully apparent. That Coogler perhaps overplayed his hand in presenting to us the humanity of Oscar Grant. That shouldn't we just already understand that Oscar Grant was a "decent human being," as one critic expressed in their review of this film. Well...there is a part of me that might be able to see that criticism but frankly, it is to a minuscule degree.
I never felt as if "Fruitvale Station" was toying with me or was trying to force me to feel the very things I should be feeling anyway. I never felt that Coogler had neon signs instructing me how to respond from moment to moment at all. I felt that "Fruitvale Station," once again, was one of the most natural films I have seen this year, a film that was allowed to live and breathe upon its own terms. This was especially true when the film reached the precise moment when tragedy struck Oscar Grant down. Coogler never allowed his film to flounder in melodrama or forced histrionics. I connected with this young man and this tragedy because of the grim reality that this very tragedy, at this very time in 2013, could easily happen to any other African-American male. This tragedy could easily happen to me.
To those who have criticized "Fruitvale Station" for maybe coming on too strong with showing what should be obvious, that Oscar Grant was a "decent human being" have missed the point entirely. The fact is that at this current stage in the life of America, the lives of African-Americans, especially young African-American males are not seen in the same fashion as our White counterparts. It is not "obvious" that a man like Oscar Grant could be seen as a "decent human being" especially when he is not even being seen as a HUMAN BEING.
Based upon racist attitudes and downright fear, African-American males are envisioned as nothing more than crime dwelling thugs who mean to harm White people in all manner of violence, theft, gunplay, rape and anything else that would make a White individual clutch their purses tighter to their bodies while sharing elevator space with Black people and quickly cross the street to the other side when being innocuously approached by a African-American.
Take the Trayvon Martin case for instance. As I watched the news, never once did I just hear within all areas of the media that his murder was a tragedy. Never once did I just hear in all areas of the media commentators speak of him in the same somber manner that would be utilized for the death of a White child. I had to endure listening to the painful speculations of Trayvon's character, his past, his associations and not just hearing about the tragedy and the reality that he was an innocent, unarmed child, doing nothing to anybody and was just heading back home when he was stalked, attacked and murdered. The entire court case itself was too painful for me to watch as what essentially transpired was that Trayvon Martin was tried for his own death, a trial in which he lost. Out of the many responses I read after the case was closed, I do not think that I was affected more than from an essay written by The Roots' drummer Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson who stated so powerfully that in the minds of African-Americans in this country, and after this court decision, we are being told once again that our lives don't matter, that our lives are not important because as he poignantly yet brutally states..."You ain't shit."
With that reality stacked against young African-American males especially, Ryan Coogler more than had his work cut out for him in trying to establish the life of Oscar Grant as one of equal worth of any White person or character just through the act of displaying his humanity. Have we really reached a point in our collective humanity, even after everything we as a human race have traveled through and supposedly learned about ourselves and each other, that Black people are not an entity unto themselves? That Black people love their children just like White people? That Black people have loving families and meaningful interpersonal relationships just like White people? That individual Black people struggle with their own foibles, faults, and mistakes with hopes of attaining some sense of redemption and elevation just like White people? That Black people should not be inherently feared, especially because of skin color? Have we really returned to the stage where Black people were considered to be 3/5 of a human being? I cannot fathom that we have but reality is telling me otherwise.
Let me please recount a personal story from my past to you, one that I have never shared before this time. Many years ago, I was waiting for a bus to take me to my place of employment, a prominent children's bookstore. As I waited for the bus in my neighborhood, I immediately took notice of several police cars idling within the area, a sight that was not of any sense of normalcy to me. I wondered of course if something had happened but all seemed quiet so I didn't worry. My bus arrived, I got on and prepared myself for my ride to work. Soon after departing the bus stop, I noticed that a police car was following us and had then directed the bus driver to pull over to the side of the road. I watched the proceedings with the same curiosity as my travelling companions, just wondering what had occurred. Soon, a police officer entered the bus, pointed at me and asked me if I would exit the bus to answer some questions. Of course, I thought that perhaps with all of those idling police cars I saw earlier, an officer may have taken notice of me and was possibly wondering if I had seen anything as I had been waiting for the bus for some time. The first moment I felt that my perceptions were completely off base was when the police officer waved the bus driver away thus taking away my ride to work. And then, the police officer asked if they could search my back pack. And then he asked if he could search me. I was not being seen as a potential witness. I was being seen as a potential suspect.
The ordeal ended rather quickly as it was determined that I was not the person they were looking for and they offered to give me a ride to work. When the officer asked me where I was employed and I told him, he exclaimed, "My son LOVES that store!"
"Good," I said. "Maybe you could tell him about the staff member you almost arrested by mistake." Clearly not a wise move but it just erupted out of me as I was so bewildered.
Once I arrived at work, the officer then asked me if I wanted him to drop me off at a distance away from the store due to any possible embarrassment to which I replied, "Why? I didn't do anything wrong." The police officer dropped me off at the front of the store, I exited and went about my day...somehow.
Despite the fact that the officer was indeed cordial, non-threatening and even apologetic towards me, I was humiliated. I was humiliated tat in my own neighborhood where I was a productive member of the community and never strayed from the path of law and order, here I was being searched and suspected anyway. When the full story hit the local newspaper and I read the description of what turned out to be a coin shop store thief, I became enraged as the thief's height, weight, clothing and overall appearance looked absolutely NOTHING like me. A Madison Metro bus was stopped by police solely to apprehend me because I was the only Black person they saw. Period.
As I watched "Fruitvale Station," I returned to that morning feeling thankful for how the situation did play out but also fearful at how it could have played out much differently. What if this situation happened to me today and the officer was not anything like the officer I dealt with? And if it did turn out tragically, my humanity would not matter at all because all that officer would have seen (and did see in the event I just recounted to you) would have been skin color. It would not have mattered that I am a husband. It would not have mattered that I am someone's son and grandson or that I am a teacher or that I love animals, have friends, and love art, music and films. I would just be another Black face, constant societal suspect of wrongdoing, the true content of my character be damned. This is where we live in America in 2013 and this is where Oscar Grant was living in those early morning hours of 2009 when police officers saw skin color without any regard to the content of his character.
At the time of Oscar Grant's death, many train passengers recorded the full event through telephone cameras, I am presuming some footage of which is shown at the start of "Fruitvale Station," a tactic I am certain some critics would admonish the film for.To that, I say that if Director Kathryn Bigelow can open her over-rated and irresponsible film "Zero Dark Thirty" (2012) with the telephone calls from airplane passengers about to die on September 11th so disingenuously and without major criticism, then what Coogler has done is not only fair game, but truly representative of the film and story he is trying to tell. That Oscar Grant was indeed a human being. What could be a more powerful statement than that?
Ryan Coogler's "Fruitvale Station" is easily one of the most humane films I have seen this year. It is also one of the best. It is a film about life, the loss of life and the wrenching question of how do you even begin to tell a child that her Father is dead and furthermore killed by the police?
We have a tremendously long road ahead of us in terms of pushing the moral arc of the universe in the proper direction. May this film be one small way in getting us to do just that. Because dear readers, it just kills me that my Dad is here to see a world that he never intended for me grow up into.
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