Justin Dean

“Fruitvale Station” is more than just a film; it is a message. But it is more than just a message too; it is a thought exercise. What consequences do our actions have? What does it mean to have a family? How deep of a divide has segregation caused in our communities? How well equipped are our law enforcement officers to deal with high-tension situations?

          Filmed as a home movie, following Oscar Grant (Michael B. Jordan) through his daily life, “Fruitvale Station” drops stereotypical hollywood portrayals of our high-melanin brethren for one of a family man surrounded by people who want him to have a good life and who he desperately wants to make proud of him. We see past Oscar in prison, presumably for drug-related offences, and the strain that causes on his family. We also see Oscar taking his daughter to school and holding her tight when she can’t sleep. Often, in the real world, we hear about how difficult it is for poor black men to make an honest living in inner cities like Oakland, and as such we see Oscar pleading for his job at a grocery store he was recently fired from back in which he uses turning to slinging dope as the alternative.

          While the film has been heavily scrutinized by some as dramatizing the final day of Oscar’s life and his efforts to be a good person to the point of dishonesty, the way that the film is presented certainly had its intended effect on me. The most effective technique used to drive the message home must be the use of handheld cameras for nearly every shot. Even in the shot/reverse shot sequence in which Oscar and his mom are talking in the prison visitation room we can see the unsteadiness of the cameras. Of course the shot of Oscar’s family making dinner in the kitchen at the birthday party really had the home-movie vibe; shot from the kitchen doorway from the perspective of the quiet uncle just waiting for the food to be ready.

          This feeling of genuineness and trust is furthered by Michael B. Jordan’s excellent performance throughout the film. When Oscar’s mother (Octavia Spencer) tells him that she’s done visiting him in prison, Jordan’s face shows genuine shock and disgust. In the scene where Oscar holds the dog in his arms you can see him choke back a tear, see the tension and stress in his face as he tries to steel his nerves.

          More subtle techniques also add to this feeling such as the excellent use of ambient conversation and utensil-on-dishes sounds at the party scene, the car, stereo, and sirens in the background of the coming clean scene at Sophina’s mother’s house, and the light music only used during transitions. The music in particular is interesting because it feels both warm and happy as well as somber and foreboding. The use of music brings a smile to my face at the transitioning between scenes but still leaves me dreading what is to come.

          The lighting for the film is very noir-like with most shots being in dimly lit rooms or at night using just enough light to see faces where appropriate and leaving the characters silhouetted where appropriate. The lighting gradually gets dimmer and dimmer as the sun sets on Oscar’s life. The quality of the cameras used also plays its part, adding noticeable grain to each shot, whether intentional or not, and each set used was decorated to feel like home. The school which Tatiyana attends is denoted by an elegant decal on the front of the house. The prison’s blue scrubs, pale green walls, and elementary school-esque plastic chairs and low-lying tables make it feel depressing and dehumanizing. Sophina’s grandmother’s house has full, but orderly, shelves of trinkets and photos on the wall. Oscar and Sophina’s fridge is covered in pictures and drawings of Tatiyans’s. Oscar’s mother’s house is full of lights and holiday decorations, flowers, pictures, and pillows and just feels like home.

          The criticism that the film has garnered is certainly not without some merit though. Director Ryan Coogler had the difficult task of representing the value of a troubled man’s life in a single day. It isn’t well known how much of an effort Oscar was really making to reform himself. It is known, however, that he did not hold a dying pitbull in his arms or throw a bag of weed into the ocean on his final day and that he had previously been convicted of running from the cops and illegal possession of a firearm. The detaining officer on the platform did not punch him in the face for talking back and the officer who killed him can be heard in the cell phone recordings of the incident threatening to tase him well before pulling the wrong gun out and firing the lethal bullet.

          The film was produced with obvious political motivation, but at it’s core it is still a story and representation of life, just as beautiful, complicated, and messed up as it really is. The struggle to make your family proud and pay your bills. The tough choices that come with growing up and maturing. The startling realization that even if your intentions are pure, bad things still happen to good people. Regardless of whether somebody watches “Fruitvale Station” and feels called to action, feels deceived, or just feels sad, the story still holds meaning. The story of Oscar Grant and it’s tragic ending is obviously the heart of the film and the sole purpose behind it, but even knowing that some aspects of the film were misrepresented grosely, the film is still emotional because of the ingenious way in which the story was told and the characters within written and portrayed.