It's impossible to escape the contentious, racially divided powder keg that
Ryan Coogler's incredibly powerful
Fruitvale Station enters. The
similarities between the story it depicts, that of slain 22-year-old Oscar
Grant, and the current Trayvon Martin case are inescapable and add a level of
heartbreaking poignancy to a story that would be dramatic even if it were a
work of fiction. Fuzzy video camera footage depicts the scene of the event
without delving into the simple facts surrounding it. On New Year's Day 2009,
Oscar, his girlfriend, and a handful of friends were detained by BART cops at
the Fruitvale Station metro stop after a brief altercation with passengers.
While seated and handcuffed, Oscar was suddenly shot in the back while
on-lookers screamed in horror and filmed it on their cellphone cameras. The cop
claimed to have mistaken his gun for a Taser, and subsequently got off with a
lesser charge of involuntary manslaughter.

Whether justice was truly served isn't really the point of the story Coogler
is telling, and nor should it be. By framing the film in such a way, showing us
the ultimate end of Grant's life, it gives the rest of the story a heightened resonance
and an added emotional weight as we walk through his final day. In a
breakthrough performance showing a subtlety and nuance far beyond his years,
Michael B. Jordan plays Oscar as a man not unlike anybody else. He was someone
whose life was riddled with mistakes, those of a criminal nature and others far
more personal. His history of dealing drugs landed him in prison, but treating
his mother (Octavia Spencer) and fiery girlfriend Sophina (Melonie Diaz) with
blatant disrespect has him in hot water with the most important women in his
life. Straying away from the desire to paint Oscar as a saint, Coogler shows us
the true nature of the man, warts and all. He doesn't stray away from Oscar's
criminal past, his philandering ways, or his scary outbursts of rage. It's all
part of what made Oscar real, and has no bearing at all on his fate. If
anything, his desire to change it and prepare for a better future only make
watching his final 24 hours all the more painful.

Coogler makes a profound statement by highlighting the ordinary connections
Oscar has made with the people closest to him, but also those he meets in those
final hours. We see that Oscar is molded and in a way emboldened to be better
by the constant presence of strong female presences. Sophina is a firecracker,
who loves and sticks by him despite his flaws. His mother Wanda seems to
recognize the typical fate for troubled black men, and only wants Oscar to
shape up and get his life in order. We also see the positive change in Oscar
when in the embrace of his daughter. She is clearly his hope, his heart, his
reason for being, and the joyous moments he has with her are tinged with an
ominous portentous quality. At the same time, we see that Oscar isn't
completely naive to his situation, but he doesn't let issues like race stop him
from helping a pretty white girl in need of assistance (she turns up later at a
crucial point), and he's more than willing to lend aid to a pregnant couple.
Coogler shows that every time Oscar opens up his heart and lets others in, the
possibilities for him are endless, which also makes his senseless death all the
more devastating.

As confident as Coogler's feature debut is, he makes a few choices that dip
into heavy-handedness, and strike at the story's authenticity. Coogler worked
closely with Oscar's family, so it's likely the scenes involving them are
accurate for the most part. But others smack of emotional manipulation, and
give off a sweet and saintly vibe that most of the film largely avoids.
Coogler, a Bay Area native who was clearly hit hard by the incident,
embellishes certain scenes in a purely Hollywood way. In one particular
instance, Oscar is suddenly offered the perfect solution to all of his
problems, while given sage advice from a random character that would change the
course of his entire life. It's at times like these that you feel Coogler
losing a bit of control and letting the hand of fiction take over. It doesn't
happen often, and doesn't totally blunt the emotional impact of what is to
come, but it can't be ignored either.
It's tough to do justice to a person's entire life in just a couple of
hours, but that's what Coogler has achieved for Oscar Grant in
Fruitvale
Station. Not unlike Spike Lee's
25th Hour,
we're taken on an unforgettable journey through the final 24 hours in a man's
life, and discover that his worth is measured not in the things he did wrong,
but in the lives he was able to touch along the way.