Fruitvale Station (2013)

10/10 – Grilled Seal of Approval


Forget Wolf. Forget Hustle. Forget Gravity. Forget whatever else came out. Fruitvale Station is the Grilled Life BEST FILM OF THE YEAR. A high distinction, but one that I, of course, do not bestow lightly. It’s always difficult for me to emotionally connect with a film to the extent that I will be shedding tears, but I at least came close with Fruitvale. Powerful and depressing and shocking and wonderful and terrible. Such a useless death.

Every great film should affect you in some way, or at least make you take a long look at your life. This film did both for me. What would happen if I died tomorrow? Have I lived a life of purpose? Of worth? And if not have I at least given in to all of my most hedonistic of desires? The two sides of the scale that everyone jumps back and forth between, but more often getting caught somewhere in the middle.

No, I’m not satisfied with my life, but who is? We all think we should be doing more, or at least we would like  to live a bit longer so we can see what happens. No, I’m not ready to die, but have I led a life to be proud of? Not really, no.

I’m 25, barely squeaking out an income, living at home with my parents, and still just as fucking confused as a year or three years or ten years ago. I’ve seen a few things, gone a few places, had sex a couple times, and gotten into and out of trouble on occasion. In other words, I haven’t done shit.

But 2014 is my year, right? 2014 is your year, right? Sure, sure, sure. We’ll repeat the words until we choke on the dust in our throats, but it won’t make it true. But 2015 is my year, right? But 2020, 2020 is definitely my year. This is the year shit is gonna happen! 2030, 2040, 2050. 2060. 2100.

There is some consolation for living a life without purpose or worth. Just a simple fact that you get to keep breathing and thinking and experiencing new experiences (even if they seem like the same experience you already experienced a thousand times before). Maybe you’ll get to see flying cars or teleportation or some other futuristic shit. You’ll still be alive even if your soul left long ago to wander and try to find “itself.” But you’ll be alive. Be thankful for that even if it’s all you got. Because just being alive, just having a chance to live a long and useless and shitty, mediocre life is more than Oscar Grant got.

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