Ryan McNeil
There are cities in the world that just seem to grow and grow and grow.
Where once there was diversity, soul, opportunity, and community there is now gentrification, over-development, sterility, and isolation. Places the world-over build their spires higher and higher into the sky, and either don’t care or don’t notice the long shadows they cast on those left below.
It’s enough to make a person feel left behind…even if they never left at all.
THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO is the story of Jimmie Fails. Jimmie spends most of his days with his best friend Montgomery (Jonathan Majors) by his side. They live near the Hunter’s Point Shipyard, where they work, create, and keep an eye on the people they care about. Mostly though, they keep getting drawn back to a house on Van Ness.
The house – a massive and beautiful house in The Mission District – once belonged to Jimmie’s grandfather. He feels a pull back towards it, even though it’s now owned by a middle-aged white couple who aren’t fussed about a strange man of colour watering their garden and painting their windowsills. Jimmie won’t hear it though; this house still feels like home to him, and home needs taking care of.
One day as the boys wander their way up Van Ness, there are strange things afoot. A moving van is waiting outside of the house and the woman we last saw throwing overpriced produce at Jimmie is sitting on the steps crying. A family quarrel has put ownership of the house in-dispute, and the couple are on-the-move.
Sensing opportunity, Jimmie wastes no time. He and Montgomery break in and claim the house as their own. The hope is to one day make everything nice and legal, but that can wait until tomorrow.
Today is about throwing open the windows, letting oxygen into the space, and becoming one with the neighbourhood he once knew. It’s about connecting with new people or reconnecting with old people and becoming part of something bigger.
It’s about feeling at-home in the city they once knew so well…even if they barely recognize it anymore.
This isn’t just a film about Jimmie’s desire to reclaim a house – this is an ode to a generation who are beginning to feel left out. Jimmie doesn’t have a hustle or feel as though he’s this close to making it big. He’s a young man who just wants what his ancestors got: a small parse of land and the opportunity to call it home. He wants a chance to matter – to carve his initials on a branch of the family tree.
His story eschews feelings of entitlement; his story is that of a man looking for his way back home.
His grandfather was able to hang his hat here without being exceptional; why can’t Jimmie claim the same right? His city is changing, but is it changing so drastically that he cannot hope to be the man his grandfather was?
Unfortunately, yes – that’s exactly what it means, and it’s every bit as tragic to witness as it is to say.
The beauty of the story though is the way it doesn’t linger in that tragedy. Director Joe Talbot’s film certainly finds ways to break our hearts – but it also finds ways to fill our spirits and souls with so much love that we ultimately walk away changed for the better. This film is the summer fling we will remember all our lives, but the summer fling we know will end with the first leaf of autumn.
Jimmie Fails exudes pure love in every scene: love for Montgomery, love for his father, love for the gangbangers on the corner who openly mock him. He even has love for the curious naked stranger who waits for a bus. Some of these people love him back, while some want to tear him down. For every neighbourly smile he sees, there is likewise a strong hand waiting to shove him into the gutter.
Doesn’t matter one bit though. The love in Jimmie’s heart is there to be transmitted; he’ll worry about receiving later.
THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO is a requiem for community – true community.
What happens to Jimmie is specific to the changing makeup of The Bay Area, but it has echoes in cities around the world. All around the world economies are changing, growth is seemingly unlimited, gentrification is rabid, and neighbourhoods are transforming. From a business standpoint, this seems great since the money seems endless – but a kingdom is not made up of nobility alone.
There is so much to be gained from a thriving working class . They bring creative spirit, form support networks, and sometimes even do something as simple as bearing witness. But more and more that working class is being pushed to the margins. It leaves these people feeling lost -feeling like they don’t belong in the places they have known all their lives.
This film wants to honour them and reassure us. It wants to remind us that the houses we build may change, may fall, may grow too expensive for our means…but the people in and around those houses will always throw open the doors of their hearts.
Thanks to them, we’ll always have a home.