The cinematic landscape often presents us with films that, while distinct in their narratives, resonate with shared human experiences. Such is the case with Joe Talbot's poetic debut, THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO, and Elijah Bynum's acute character study, his sophomore feature MAGAZINE DREAMS. Both films, notably featuring puissant performances from Jonathan Majors, delve into the profound struggles of individuals grappling with identity, belonging, and the relentless pursuit of an ideal in a world that often seems to be leaving them behind.
THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO is a tender, melancholic, and deeply personal film (it births out of its Jimmie Fails' own experience) that feels like both a billet-doux and a eulogy to a city in flux. It hinges upon Fails (playing a version of himself), a young man obsessed with reclaiming the Victorian house his grandfather allegedly built in the rapidly gentrifying Fillmore District of San Francisco. Alongside his best friend, Mont (Jonathan Majors), a quiet, aspiring playwright, Jimmie embarks on a quixotic quest to restore what he believes is his rightful heritage.
The film excels in its dreamlike atmosphere, crafted through exquisite cinematography that captures the city's unique light and shadows, and a sublime score by Emile Mosseri, which is particularly noteworthy for its ethereal and melancholic quality, often utilizing strings and piano to evoke a sense of longing and nostalgia. It perfectly complements the film's visual poetry, enhancing the emotional weight of Jimmie's illusion-dissipated self-discovery and the city's changing landscape. The music frequently shifts between hopeful and somber tones, also mirroring Jimmie's fluctuating optimism and the underlying sadness of his situation.
The film is a meditation on memory, the meaning of home, and the pain of displacement. Talbot doesn't just show gentrification; he makes you feel its insidious creep, the way it erodes history and community. Jimmie's stubborn attachment to the house, even when faced with uncomfortable truths, speaks to a universal yearning for roots and stability in an ever-changing world.
Fails' performance is not about grand gestures, but rather the quiet determination and wistful sadness that define Jimmie's quest. Majors, as Mont, delivers a nuanced performance that is both supportive and subtly complex. He is the quiet observer, the artist processing the world around him, and the steadfast anchor for Jimmie's often naive idealism. His portrayal adds layers of depth and empathy, making the bond between the two friends the emotional anchor of the film.
While critically acclaimed for its artistry and sentiments, the film's slow pace could leave the narrative feel less urgent or even meandering. This atmospheric methodology, while intentional, might lead to a sense of narrative ambiguity or a lack of strong plot progression (also, how does the squatter arrangement works in USA?). Additionally, the film's understated emotional register and reliance on subtle character interactions, while appreciative for some, might create a feeling of emotional distance for others. Also, a whiff of self-consciousness about its own Afrocentric agenda can plume along its mythopoetic tone. (e.g. an arbitrary offing of a secondary character seems quite out of sync with the whole story's ruminative through-line.)
In stark contrast to the lyrical decoction of Talbot's film, MAGAZINE DREAMS plunges audience into the dysfunctional, often disturbing world of Killian Maddox (Majors), an amateur bodybuilder consumed by his ambition to achieve professional glory. Living with his ailing grandfather William (Page), Killian battles severe social anxiety, explosive anger, and a profound sense of isolation, all exacerbated by his extreme dedication to his physique.
Majors’ transmogrification into Killian is nothing short of astounding, both physically and emotionally. His bovine intensity, his cringeworthy inceldom - which is a more complex hard nut to crack. The date with his love interest Jesse, played with an empathetic uneasiness by Bennett, is a feast of clangers and Paige's memorable cameo as a streetwalker smoothly suggests Killian's problem is not sexual frustration but more like confusion, further confirmed by the encounter with the name bodybuilder he frenetically stans - and his volatile outbursts onrush all over the screen, taking no prisoners and devouring everything but the kitchen sink. Killian's experience is a harrowing scrutiny of obsession, toxic masculinity, and the mental toll of pursuing an unattainable ideal.
Bynum's film conduces to a challenging watch, forcing the audience to confront the darker side of human interactions and the devastating consequences of unchecked desires. MAGAZINE DREAMS adopts a raw, gritty, and unflinching thumbprint, mirroring its protagonist's struggles and unforgiving reality, but magnanimously stops short of becoming too distressing. Visually, it's defined by bleak realism, with often desaturated lighting highlighting mundane, depressing settings like gyms and small apartments. This creates a sense of authenticity, devoid of romanticism.
Intimate and unsettling close-ups frequently zoom in on Killian's strained, veiny muscles. These tight, voyeuristic shots pull audience into Killian's isolated existence. There's a sharp contrast of grandeur and grime seesawing between idealized magazine bodybuilders and his unhygienic daily life. The symbolic use of color leans towards muted tones, occasionally broken by artificial gym lights or glossy magazine hues, subtly emphasizing artificiality versus natural struggle. Ultimately, Killian's muscle-bound physique becomes a central visual motif, a focus on the body as a landscape of ambition, pain, and loneliness.
Both films, in their unique styles, explore themes of identity and belonging. Jimmie seeks belonging through a physical structure, a house that represents a lost past and a fading community. Killian, on the other hand, seeks belonging and validation through the extreme sculpting of his body, believing physical perfection will grant him acceptance and purpose.
Despite their differing tones and narratives, both films offer profound insights into the human condition in a world that often feels indifferent or even hostile, and is increasingly so due to today's political climate and manmade horrors. Watching them in conjunction also provides a compelling look at Jonathan Majors' undeniably astonishing acting chops (notwithstanding the blemishes of his own violent behaviors that have derailed his purple streak of a Hollywood up-and-coming leading man) and the diverse ways cinema can embroider an intricate tapestry of human experience.
Lastly, what really troubles Yours Truly is American cinema's unrelenting propagation of a person's true worth is to be remembered after they are gone, as if that is the new tenet which could inject some sort of meaning into the ravaged headspace of our increasingly religion-jaded, faithless world on the precipice of self-destruction (after hell and purgatory cannot deter mankind from conducting unspeakable vile acts). If anything, only its desperation can eclipse that statement's oceanic erroneousness,,
referential entries: Spike Lee's BLACKKKLANSMAN (2018, 7.0/10); Rose Glass's LOVE LIES BLEEDING (2024, 7.3/10); Ari Aster's BEAU IS AFRAID (2023, 7.2/10); Cord Jefferson's AMERICAN FICTION (2023, 7.7/10).
Title: The Last Black Man in San Francisco
Year: 2019
Genre: Drama
Country: USA
Language: English
Director: Joe Talbot
Screenwriters: Joe Talbot, Rob Richert
based on the stories by Jimmie Fails and Joe Talbot
故事简介：
圣丹斯电影首映电影，又一部被片名耽误的电影。。业余健美运动员基利安·马多克斯童年遭受暴力创伤，成年后生活艰难。他不仅要照顾患病祖父，还面临经济困境、精神疾病等诸多问题。他痴迷于健美，将著名健美运动员布拉德·范德霍恩视为偶像，渴望登上杂志封面。然而，他某日因情绪失控砸店后陷入一系列灾难，其人生在追求梦想与现实困境中逐渐失控。
观者吐槽中：
影片整体呈现出一种紧张压抑的氛围，让观者仿佛置身于基利安混乱的内心世界。导演采用了类似《出租车司机》的表现主义新黑色电影风格，这种风格在增强影片氛围感的同时，也使得影片的叙事缺乏原创性。很多情节和场景都能看到某些经典影片的影子，比如基利安锻炼、饮食以及准备比赛的场景，与《出租车司机》中主角为城市战争做准备的情节相似，这让观者在观影过程中容易产生似曾相识的感觉，削弱了影片自身的独特魅力。
另一方面，乔纳森·梅杰斯的出色演绎。这位同学为了塑造基利安这个角色，不仅通过大量的锻炼和饮食调整塑造出了令人惊叹的身材 -- 观者个人认为是本片最大的看点，而且电影在灯光和色彩运用上表现出色，通过光影突出基利安的体型，利用色彩搭配增强视觉效果，长镜头运用也提升了电影紧张感。他在表演上展现出了极高的水准。他在与不同人物的互动中，他能够精准地切换角色状态：面对祖父时，他的眼神和言语中充满了温柔和关怀；与心仪的女孩杰西交流时，又表现出紧张和木讷；而在情绪爆发时，那种愤怒和绝望更是让观者感同身受。比如在与杰西的第一次约会场景中，他越想表现自己，却越弄巧成拙，说话结结巴巴，表情也十分尴尬，梅杰斯通过细腻的表演将基利安内心的自卑和渴望展现得淋漓尽致，让观者深刻理解了这个角色的复杂性。
但是，除了前面提到的叙事缺乏原创性之外，影片在情节的连贯性和合理性上也有问题。部分情节的发展过于突兀，比如基利安砸店后的一系列遭遇，车祸、种族主义攻击等事件接连发生，虽然导演试图通过这些情节来展现他生活的崩溃，但在情节的过渡上显得十分生硬，让观者感觉有些牵强。
总的来看，本片通过深刻的主题、精彩的表演以及独特的风格给观者带来了强烈的视觉和情感冲击，但同时也因为叙事和情节上的问题
The cinematic landscape often presents us with films that, while distinct in their narratives, resonate with shared human experiences. Such is the case with Joe Talbot's poetic debut, THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO, and Elijah Bynum's acute character study, his sophomore feature MAGAZINE DREAMS. Both films, notably featuring puissant performances from Jonathan Majors, delve into the profound struggles of individuals grappling with identity, belonging, and the relentless pursuit of an ideal in a world that often seems to be leaving them behind.
THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO is a tender, melancholic, and deeply personal film (it births out of its Jimmie Fails' own experience) that feels like both a billet-doux and a eulogy to a city in flux. It hinges upon Fails (playing a version of himself), a young man obsessed with reclaiming the Victorian house his grandfather allegedly built in the rapidly gentrifying Fillmore District of San Francisco. Alongside his best friend, Mont (Jonathan Majors), a quiet, aspiring playwright, Jimmie embarks on a quixotic quest to restore what he believes is his rightful heritage.
The film excels in its dreamlike atmosphere, crafted through exquisite cinematography that captures the city's unique light and shadows, and a sublime score by Emile Mosseri, which is particularly noteworthy for its ethereal and melancholic quality, often utilizing strings and piano to evoke a sense of longing and nostalgia. It perfectly complements the film's visual poetry, enhancing the emotional weight of Jimmie's illusion-dissipated self-discovery and the city's changing landscape. The music frequently shifts between hopeful and somber tones, also mirroring Jimmie's fluctuating optimism and the underlying sadness of his situation.
The film is a meditation on memory, the meaning of home, and the pain of displacement. Talbot doesn't just show gentrification; he makes you feel its insidious creep, the way it erodes history and community. Jimmie's stubborn attachment to the house, even when faced with uncomfortable truths, speaks to a universal yearning for roots and stability in an ever-changing world.
Fails' performance is not about grand gestures, but rather the quiet determination and wistful sadness that define Jimmie's quest. Majors, as Mont, delivers a nuanced performance that is both supportive and subtly complex. He is the quiet observer, the artist processing the world around him, and the steadfast anchor for Jimmie's often naive idealism. His portrayal adds layers of depth and empathy, making the bond between the two friends the emotional anchor of the film.
While critically acclaimed for its artistry and sentiments, the film's slow pace could leave the narrative feel less urgent or even meandering. This atmospheric methodology, while intentional, might lead to a sense of narrative ambiguity or a lack of strong plot progression (also, how does the squatter arrangement works in USA?). Additionally, the film's understated emotional register and reliance on subtle character interactions, while appreciative for some, might create a feeling of emotional distance for others. Also, a whiff of self-consciousness about its own Afrocentric agenda can plume along its mythopoetic tone. (e.g. an arbitrary offing of a secondary character seems quite out of sync with the whole story's ruminative through-line.)
In stark contrast to the lyrical decoction of Talbot's film, MAGAZINE DREAMS plunges audience into the dysfunctional, often disturbing world of Killian Maddox (Majors), an amateur bodybuilder consumed by his ambition to achieve professional glory. Living with his ailing grandfather William (Page), Killian battles severe social anxiety, explosive anger, and a profound sense of isolation, all exacerbated by his extreme dedication to his physique.
Majors’ transmogrification into Killian is nothing short of astounding, both physically and emotionally. His bovine intensity, his cringeworthy inceldom - which is a more complex hard nut to crack. The date with his love interest Jesse, played with an empathetic uneasiness by Bennett, is a feast of clangers and Paige's memorable cameo as a streetwalker smoothly suggests Killian's problem is not sexual frustration but more like confusion, further confirmed by the encounter with the name bodybuilder he frenetically stans - and his volatile outbursts onrush all over the screen, taking no prisoners and devouring everything but the kitchen sink. Killian's experience is a harrowing scrutiny of obsession, toxic masculinity, and the mental toll of pursuing an unattainable ideal.
Bynum's film conduces to a challenging watch, forcing the audience to confront the darker side of human interactions and the devastating consequences of unchecked desires. MAGAZINE DREAMS adopts a raw, gritty, and unflinching thumbprint, mirroring its protagonist's struggles and unforgiving reality, but magnanimously stops short of becoming too distressing. Visually, it's defined by bleak realism, with often desaturated lighting highlighting mundane, depressing settings like gyms and small apartments. This creates a sense of authenticity, devoid of romanticism.
Intimate and unsettling close-ups frequently zoom in on Killian's strained, veiny muscles. These tight, voyeuristic shots pull audience into Killian's isolated existence. There's a sharp contrast of grandeur and grime seesawing between idealized magazine bodybuilders and his unhygienic daily life. The symbolic use of color leans towards muted tones, occasionally broken by artificial gym lights or glossy magazine hues, subtly emphasizing artificiality versus natural struggle. Ultimately, Killian's muscle-bound physique becomes a central visual motif, a focus on the body as a landscape of ambition, pain, and loneliness.
Both films, in their unique styles, explore themes of identity and belonging. Jimmie seeks belonging through a physical structure, a house that represents a lost past and a fading community. Killian, on the other hand, seeks belonging and validation through the extreme sculpting of his body, believing physical perfection will grant him acceptance and purpose.
Despite their differing tones and narratives, both films offer profound insights into the human condition in a world that often feels indifferent or even hostile, and is increasingly so due to today's political climate and manmade horrors. Watching them in conjunction also provides a compelling look at Jonathan Majors' undeniably astonishing acting chops (notwithstanding the blemishes of his own violent behaviors that have derailed his purple streak of a Hollywood up-and-coming leading man) and the diverse ways cinema can embroider an intricate tapestry of human experience.
Lastly, what really troubles Yours Truly is American cinema's unrelenting propagation of a person's true worth is to be remembered after they are gone, as if that is the new tenet which could inject some sort of meaning into the ravaged headspace of our increasingly religion-jaded, faithless world on the precipice of self-destruction (after hell and purgatory cannot deter mankind from conducting unspeakable vile acts). If anything, only its desperation can eclipse that statement's oceanic erroneousness,,
referential entries: Spike Lee's BLACKKKLANSMAN (2018, 7.0/10); Rose Glass's LOVE LIES BLEEDING (2024, 7.3/10); Ari Aster's BEAU IS AFRAID (2023, 7.2/10); Cord Jefferson's AMERICAN FICTION (2023, 7.7/10).