The Last Black Man in San Francisco
Monday, June 17th, 2019June 16, 2019
Prior to the lights dimming and the previews rolling, the Alamo Drafthouse ingeniously fills the early moments of a showtime by running clips that are generally on theme with the picture that is about to begin. Prior to the South Lamar Alamo Drafthouse’s screening of “The Last Black Man in San Francisco” we were able to experience James Baldwin discussing urban renewal among other similar clips.
With little insight into the film (other than the obvious title, beautiful trailer, and the previously-mentioned Baldwin clips), I hoped for a film that wouldn’t excessively focus on the homogeneous byproducts of gentrification. I was not disappointed.
Though the film is about a man’s quest to reclaim what once belonged to his family, the film doesn’t linger too long or incessantly draw from the well of “gentrification as the villain.” Sure, the film includes roles that are very much in line with illustrating just how shitty gentrification is, most obviously a very easy-to-dislike realtor as well as some malcontent techies, but TLBMiSF does an exceptional job of balancing gentrification themes with the challenges Jimmie and Monty, the two main characters, face within their own community.
This culminates in the third act when Jimmie declares that “people aren’t ONE thing” which leads to Monty protesting moments later that [very loose paraphrasing here] “people are born into systems and walls. That these walls are what hold people back and that we all need to break through and break free from all the shit and uselessness we’re all born into.”
People are not one thing.
Regardless of circumstances, people should not blindly and willfully perpetuate exactly what they were born into.
After watching an exceptional and well-balanced film that touches on many themes including identity, friendship, family, death, and gentrification, I walked out of the Alamo Drafthouse on South Lamar- an area of town I’ve been familiar with for fifteen years and have seen undergo drastic changes (from humble and beat-down strip mall featuring a Short Stop hamburger hut to gaudy, real-life SoDoSoPa)- and observed conspicuously comfortable folks capping off an Austin Sports & Social Club event at a spiffy new seafood patio bar and… the irony was not lost on me.
I wondered how many other theaters that screen arthouse pictures share similar surroundings?
Who is this film’s intended audience?
What are we to learn?
What (if anything) are we to change?
My first inclination is to reflect on my personal experiences and answer those questions publicly. But I will abstain and simply recommend that you enjoy the film and consider the above.