Fruitvale Station begins with the actual video recording that took place New Years Day in 2009, where an African American male was fatally shot by a BART police officer at the Fruitvale train station. The video is shocking to say the least, yet is little more than a violent recording; revealing little to no information about the victim involved. The film recreates the same scene near the end of the film (with near complete accuracy), this time using its actors, actresses, and a set; only this time around I found myself shaking from the pure intensity and emotion brought on by it. This could be seen as praise for how sound, editing, and cinematography can help better change a perspective; but the real difference between the two scenes is simply that the person shot goes from being an nameless victim, to a fleshed out, three dimensional human being named Oscar Grant.
Oscar Grant is 22 year old tough yet kind man who’s had his ups and downs in life but wants to make it right for his family. He’s had a shaky life; prison and drugs are things he’s accustomed too. He’s had trouble keeping a steady job, he’s low on cash, and his relationship with his girlfriend is far from perfect. Yet he is a good man who shows loyalty to his friends, great care to his mother, passion towards his girlfriend, and loving affection towards his daughter who means more in the world to him than anything else. Oscar has trouble admitting his faults and failures to others, but he’s more than willing to try and fix them; in fact that’s a good portion of what Fruitvale Station is about.
Fruitvale Station shows the audience the last 24 hours of Oscar Grant’s life, revealing all I’ve written about him and more. The movie itself is a fascinating mix of diverse emotions. Sometimes it can be quite sad and tragic, while at other times it can be joyous, happy, and (believe it or not) amusingly funny. Yet above all Fruitvale Station is intense; very, very intense. It pulls no punches, and lets the audience see everything at full force. One of the best things about this movie is its devotion to its characters. Each character feels like they've been given much dedication too; allowing them to tell their own unique story no matter how small a scene.
Yet it’s the main cast who truly receive the most care; especially Oscar (played by Michael B. Jordan) who is such a great character. The film contains scenes with Oscar that bring no major progression to the plot, yet give tons of development to his character. For example, there is this very, very sad scene involving Oscar and a stray pitbull. Pitbulls are a species with an unfair reputation for violence, and this specific pitbull is shown to be a very sweet, friendly animal that Oscar pets and greets warmly while getting gas. A moment later the dog gets hit by a car while trying to cross the road. Oscar yells viciously at the hit and run driver, then goes to pick up the heavily bleeding animal; trying in a vain effort to find help while softly whispering to the dog that it’s going to be alright. Soon the pitbull dies in his arms, and Oscar silently returns to his car after having laid it back on the ground. The scene itself lasts only a few minutes, yet is overflowing with both development and symbolism towards our main character; the scene itself could have been a wonderful short film on its own.
Fruitvale Station does a wonderful job with the development between Oscar and his family; especially between himself and his mother, Wanda Grant (played by Octavia Spencer). Spencer delivers one heck of a terrific, standout performance; reconfirming just how strong an actress she is. The mother/son relationship is one of love yet struggle; both love one another but with Oscar’s shaky past the mom can’t help but worry about him. At the same time Oscar feels shame that his life isn't always going well, and lies/avoids the true to try and lessen the tension between them.
Observe the dinner scene where Oscar and his mother are discussing where he’s going for New Years Eve. Oscar carefully sentences his words; untruthfully stating he will not drink that night (even saying he hasn't drank in months {though to be fair we never see him drink before New Year’s Eve}). His mom on the other hand vigilantly observes Oscar while they talk. Even when they share a laugh together there remains a glint of worry beneath her eyes. When watching Fruitvale Station, observe the parallels between the two scenes where one of them wants to hug the other yet can’t, and see just how well the film reveals both mother/son’s mixed emotions of love and guilt for each other.
Observe the dinner scene where Oscar and his mother are discussing where he’s going for New Years Eve. Oscar carefully sentences his words; untruthfully stating he will not drink that night (even saying he hasn't drank in months {though to be fair we never see him drink before New Year’s Eve}). His mom on the other hand vigilantly observes Oscar while they talk. Even when they share a laugh together there remains a glint of worry beneath her eyes. When watching Fruitvale Station, observe the parallels between the two scenes where one of them wants to hug the other yet can’t, and see just how well the film reveals both mother/son’s mixed emotions of love and guilt for each other.
Of course all these emotional moments could easily be over-dramatized by a lesser film maker; but thankfully for his first film debut, director Ryan Coogler uses some terrific shots and cinematography to maximize the film’s emotional effectiveness. Uses of long, steady shots are used right before or after an impacting scene to intensify the moment. Take for example both scenes where Oscar’s train leaves the station shortly before the fatal event. Both scenes use long, stationary shots and stay in place until the train completely departs into the night. Both scenes possess a very haunting feel to them, letting the drifting sound of the train followed by absolute silence sink into its audience’s mind. It’s the calm before the storm; preparing the audience for something they truly can’t be prepared for.
Fruitvale Station uses silence just as much as sound to express and amplify the emotions of our characters and situations. Chaotically quick notes are used to help viewers feel the constrained anger Oscar has at certain moments, while complete reserve of noise (save for footsteps) is used when Mrs. Grant walks slowly down the hospital corridors to view her recently deceased son’s corpse; adding to the sinking realization of what has just happened. Without the use of these cinematic techniques the film would still be good, but with them Fruitvale Station moves up to the next level of greatness.
Fruitvale Station truly is a terrific piece of art and cinema; but it’s the story, how it’s told, and the characters that are involved that makes it something special. Oscar Grant is a real life person whose death is both tragic and devastating, yet there are many of us who cannot grasp the full impact of the event. Fruitvale Station allows its audience to become immersed in Oscar Grant’s life, family, hopes, dreams, ups, downs, and who he truly is; becoming someone the viewers honestly cares about, and can become heartbroken by when the tragic ending occurs. That’s the effect Fruitvale Station brought to me, and left me with as I sat there during the after-credits, stunned by this very powerful film.
