Last Stop Fruitvale Station

If you pay attention to the news in the US it does feel that not a month goes by without some example of Police abuse or gun violence disproportionately against African Americans. From Oscar Grant to Trayvon Martin to the assault of an ASU professor by campus police last month.  For this reason Fruitvale Station, which focuses on Grant, feels like a microcosm of this issue and an opportunity to speak out. The beauty of it however is that there is no hostility felt here, only tragedy. Toxic factors such as inequality and racial profiling certainly contributed to Grant being arrested on that BART station on January 1^st 2009 but they are the set dressing. The centrepiece is simply a man.

The film opens with the amateur footage of the incident bystanders captured on mobile phones. Making the ending abundantly clear and setting the tone of finality that hangs over the rest of the film. Everything Grant does, be it noble, ignoble, profound or mundane is seen through the lens as his final actions on earth.

Those actions walk a fine line between humanising Grant and deifying him. His last day is primarily one of endeavouring towards change as he attempts to regain his supermarket job, forgoes selling a quantity of cannabis large enough to pay his rent and adopts the wisdom of Oprah. The film takes the time to highlight what a struggle this is for Grant, with the financial demands of his family weighing down against the desire to rise above. It’s a conflict fully realised by leading man Michael B. Jordan, the sadness on his face as he confronts life’s hardships is truly precious.

Jordan is by far the highlight of the film, his casual charisma endearing us to Grant throughout, even in his darkest moments. The way he evades confrontation shows us a man who has committed wrongdoings out of weakness. To go back to ‘selling trees’ as he calls it would be taking the easy way out and the resolve on his face convinces us that he is determined to change.

The film is also thick with domestic mundanely that make Grant relatable. From being harangued by his mother for calling her while driving to slipping his daughter extra treats. The point, making us feel kinship with Grant, is heavy handed but the execution is not. In fact nothing about the film is too heavy handed, even when we finally make it to Fruitvale.

The BART officer that arrests Grant and his friends is the archetypical rage-fuelled beta male. Aggressive, hulking and casually discriminate, every horror story about police officers who abuse their authority made flesh. The twist though is that he is not the one who pulls the trigger.  That is left on Officer Ingram (Chad Michael Murray), a young, flustered and over-eager new cop who you can almost believe would mistake his gun for his Taser.  

While the film hinges on this final tragic moment it’s only made tragic by the joys and troubles injected by the supporting cast. Octavia Spencer makes Grants mother a much more complex character than your typical put-upon matriarch. With her friendly jabs at Grant we see a caring and sympathetic figure but one whose patience has a threshold. Her scene in a flashback to Grant in prison serves as one of the films highlights as she reluctantly turns her back on a son who refuses to change.

Melonie Diaz has little to do as Grant’s girlfriend Sophina besides voice the reasonable objections to Grant’s behaviour. But she sells the role as a frustrated wife and mother who’s also capable of listening, considering and forgiving. And credit where credit’s due the film manages to show Grant bonding with daughter Tatiana (Ariana Neal) without making it overtly saccharin.

Fruitvale Station is a film about nuance, presenting a character with human weaknesses on the final day of his life. It does not aim to provoke outrage or rally against injustice but simply inform on a very real tragedy.