Gentrification and Instability Lead to The Last Black Man in San Francisco

The Last Black Man in San Francisco follows Jimmie Fails (Jimmie Fails) and his best friend Montgomery (Jonathan Majors), two young men who share a room in a modest section of San Francisco within a home that also houses Mont’s grandfather Allen (Danny Glover). Jimmie is fixated on an elaborate home in a more affluent section of the city that was built by his grandfather and eventually hatches a plan to squat in it in order to reclaim what he feels should be with him.

The film is partly, and most obviously, a statement on the issue of gentrification, about which there has been much debate not only in San Francisco, but almost every major metropolitan area in the country. California in particular has been struggling to deal with its growing homeless population, for which Jimmie serves as a de-facto stand-in. Much like Sean Baker’s 2017 masterpiece The Florida Project, The Last Black Man focuses on the “almost-homeless”, the shadow, much less seen and spoken of section of the homeless population that doesn’t live on the street but instead goes from place to place, maybe a family member’s home, a motel, or in Jimmie’s case a friend’s place, on a short term basis, where they can find a place for shelter. This type of authenticity in the film is notable but what sticks out even more so is the shift in focus from a storytelling aspect that we are presented with. The Last Black Man follows and exists within the world of the downtrodden and the underrepresented; the uber-rich transplants of San Francisco that normally receive most of the attention in this discussion are only shown in passing, curious figures that drift into our characters’ lives only for an instant then disappear as fast as they arrived. The decision to center the struggle of those trying to survive in a world that is increasingly squeezing them from the sides, to follow and give voice to their emotions and perspective while ignoring those who we usually are made to hear from and examine, not even to present them as a foil to the main characters, was a bold artistic choice that came off as fresh and allowed those who the film was meant to serve to enjoy much greater depth and emotional connection with their audience. Jimmie’s journey with his old family home feels very much like a metaphor for the greater battle for San Francisco’s soul post-tech boom. In the home, Jimmie sees his childhood, his family’s history, the history of the city itself, and what it represents about his grandfather’s journey and his work ethic to embark upon it. For the well-to-do owners and potential buyers, the home is a showpiece, something expensive and shiny to bid over and show off with little actual value or care for it past what it represents superficially.

While the metaphorical meaning of Jimmie’s struggle with the home is clear and apparent, what is really at the center of his torment, driving his actions and obsession is something more deeply personal and more psychological than a statement about a city. As the film’s story progresses, it becomes clear that for Jimmie, what the home represents subconsciously isn’t just the big ideas of its story, but the specific meaning for him that his time living in the home with his family was the semblance of stability that he’d known. During the time Jimmy spent there, not just when his grandfather owned it but when his father James (Rob Morgan) inherited it and moved his family in, everything was normal for the young boy. His father hadn’t yet become addicted to drugs to the point where he’d lose the home and begin a life of transience with his son, doing whatever hustles he could cook up to survive. No, Jimmie’s life was just as beautiful as the expansive home’s facade, he didn’t have to worry about where the next dollar would come from or where he would rest his head; and regaining possession of the house would mean regaining a bit of the sense of peace that accompanied his stay there. The home has come to represent something he yearns to regain; where he last saw a life worth living and indeed, where his heart remains and longs to return.

The star at the center of The Last Black Man is the film’s cinematography. Joe Talbot displays an impeccable handling of the camera, favoring beautiful horizontal tracking shots that focus on the character’s pathway while also putting the background characters, and the character of the streets of San Francisco themselves at the forefront; communicating the importance of environment on the film’s world. Talbot also uses camera angles to achieve this, most effectively when Jimmie and Mont first begin visiting Jimmie’s boyhood home in the film. When the two arrive to the house, the camera is always pointed upward, parallel to the two friends’ gazes. This perspective of them looking up at the home is indicative of the majestic manse being something gilded and unattainable for them coming from more modest means or in Jimmie’s case, from homelessness.

The chemistry and relationship between Jimmie and Montgomery is important to The Last Black Man due to the amount of screen time shared between the two and Jimmie Fails and Jonathan Majors manage to hit a home run in their portrayal of the duo. The film is partly based on Jimmie Fails’ real life and you can see where the actor and co-writer of the film brings that real life, raw emotion and experience to the role. Majors though is the biggest standout from a performance standpoint, excelling as the eccentric creative Montgomery and imparting a lovable, kindness to the misunderstood and often teased character. Even within the role, Majors exhibits a range of personalities and characterizations through Montgomery’s attempts at acting out the roles he creates as an aspiring playwright. His performance during Montgomery’s one man show is mesmerizing and worthy of nominations in recognition of his work.

The film features a score that perfectly compliments its quiet, contemplative, and at times sad atmosphere. Much like visual storytelling can accentuate and assist with what we’re shown onscreen, The Last Man in San Francisco’s score helps to impart the emotions and story elements within the film. Michael Marshall’s cover of 60s pop tune San Francisco is moving, memorable, and would be a shoo-in for awards recognition if it were an original song. Director Joe Talbot and director of photography Adam Newport-Berra provide The Last Man in San Francisco with a beautiful visual composition, full of intimate angles, perspective, and a rich display of the city of San Francisco in full. The performances from Jimmie Fails and Jonathan Majors are relevatory, with Majors especially making quite the impression. Fails imparts his real life experiences, bringing the character of the same name to life, oozing empathy while Majors displays a range that demands awards season recognition. These elements combine to bring forth a portrait of a city that must make room within all its beauty for the features, that being the native residents who built its unique features and loved it before the influx of voguish haunts, that made it noticeable in the first place.

Image:  A24