Before the controversial killing of 17 year old Trayvon
Martin in Sanford, Florida, by neighborhood watch zealot George Zimmerman,
became a cause célébre in 2012, there was the senseless killing of 22
year old Oscar Grant in the early hours of January 1, 2009 by Bay Area Rapid
Transit cop, Johannes Mehserle, at Oakland’s Fruitvale BART station. Both
victims were young, both were unarmed, both were black. Unlike the Trayvon
Martin situation, which was shrouded in some mystery, due the absence of any
percipient witnesses, scores of people watched in horror as Oscar Grant was
shot in the back, lying face down on the platform, in police custody, with his
hands behind his back.
The tragic deaths of these two young men have seared
themselves into the public consciousness; and each has lead to protests, vigils
and riots when it appeared that the perpetrators were not appropriately
punished by our criminal justice system (Martin’s killer was acquitted, Grant’s
was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and served eleven months.) But while
these two homicides got most of the press, they were hardly isolated incidents.
The real tragedy is that young black men are getting shot and killed, or
unjustly arrested and imprisoned, or given the societal shaft in a myriad of
other ways, far too regularly.
Fruitvale Station, the first feature film by 26 year
old writer-director Ryan Coogler, takes a look at Oscar Grant’s last day on
earth; and by this means, transforms young Oscar (Michael B. Jordan) from
martyr/icon/symbol/statistic into the human being his family and friends knew
him to be: a charming, mixed up, well meaning, family oriented young man of
color, a guy who had already made a few mistakes - and who was by no means
perfect, but who was trying to pull his life together. It being New Year’s Eve, this particular day
was a time for resolutions. It was also the birthday of his beloved Mom, Wanda
(Octavia Spencer). Oscar feels, with
some justification, that he has been a disappointment to his mother, as
well as to his girlfriend Sophina
(Melonie Diaz) and, by extension, his little daughter Tatiana (Ariana Neal). He
wants to do the right thing, to grow up, to be a better man. We see him trying,
and I for one believe he might well have succeeded.
This picture could have presented Oscar as a noble, saintly
guy, victimized by a class society; it could have presented us with a dogmatic
indictment of racist cops or a biased or uncaring justice system; or it could
have tendentiously explored the cultural, historic, and/or economic issues that
have oppressed and continue to suppress the aspirations of many young black
men. But it is not that kind of a movie. Instead, it’s a low-key humanizing
tale about one guy, trying to live his life.
Told in a slice-of-life style, the film reveals Oscar’s
sweetness and good nature alongside his barely controlled anger and
frustration; his tumultuous relationship with his girlfriend and concomitant
pleasure in time spent with their cute daughter; his devotion to his mother and
family, his community of male friends.
Coogler tells Oscar’s story with a light touch and, surprisingly, a
healthy dollop of wry, situational humor. All of this makes the ending more
tragic, more personal, more real. Oscar Grant was not just some black guy in
Oakland, Coogler seems to be saying. He
was this very particular guy, a very human guy. When his life is cut short, the
grief of his mother, his lover, his friends, becomes our grief as well, at such
a needless loss.
Cooglar’s storytelling is aided immensely by an excellent
cast, and especially the wholly believable, naturalistic portrayal of Oscar by Michael B. Jordan (Wallace in The Wire, and Vince Howard in Friday
Night Lights), and by Octavia Spencer (Oscar winner as Minnie Jackson in The
Help) in an incandescent performance Oscar’s mother.
Definitely worth a look-see!
In general release.
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