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I saw this a few weeks ago and its been running through my mind intermittently ever since. Its a documentary about suicides from the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco during 2004. I think the film-maker left cameras trained on the bridge throughout the year, and followed up on particular suicides by interviewing family and friends of the jumper. The documentary consists of footage of the bridge and particular suicides, interspersed with these interviews. Unfortunately I can't remember the names of most of the individual suicides now (more on that below), which might make this a little confused. Because of its subject matter, writing about the film involves discussing some sensitive and difficult issues, and I apologise if the following is at all indelicate.
I should say, before I talk about the film itself, that I don't have a particular problem with the idea behind the documentary. I knew what it was before I bought my ticket and I didn't go to be outraged. It did make me wonder what I would consider off-limits for a documentary (before I'd even think about sitting down and watching it, as it were), but here I wanted to see how the film-maker handled his material etc - I mean, I was prepared to go along with it if I thought he did good job, however he tackled it. I'm sure plenty of people would disagree with this already though. I'm not sure how widely the film's been released and what sort of reactions it has caused, but I'm wouldn't be suprised if it proved controversial.
Anyway, my reaction has been very confused. Very.
I was fascinated by the film as I watched it. The first jump shown in the opening minutes was shocking even though I knew it was coming, and that remained true throughout the film. Watching a real person die on screen is both uncanny and unnerving (I remember having a similar reaction to news footage of people jumping out of the twin towers). Part of me felt that I shouldn't be seeing this, not in a cinema. The fact that these people had no say in the way their deaths were being used was probably what bothered me most. I mean, it just seemed like something so personal and private, watching the final moments of a person's life as they paced up and down the bridge, and then the jump itself. And that was just my gut reaction to the first few shots, before the film really got going.
Listening to the families struggle to make sense of the deaths was interesting. It felt more appropriate somehow, probably because they had agreed to be in the documentary and obviously felt the need to talk about what they felt and why. I can't really talk about particular people because I can't remember names, which I actually find very frustrating, having been somehow involved in the final moments of these people's lives.
As the film went on I became more and more frustrated with the way the film-maker was shaping and 'explaining' the events (the suicides, I mean). He kept using footage of would-be jumpers pacing up and down the bridge. Occasionally he would run music over it, all very tasteful and discrete I suppose, but still incongruous. It brought attention to the fact that these events were being shaped into a film, which was trying to make us, I don't know, feel something particular, attach a particular significance to what we saw. I suppose it was the artifice of it which got me, which is a bit odd because its pretty much necessary if the film was going to be made, but...
The editing, music, etc told us what to feel, tried to make these jumps understandable, processable, and part of a broader narrative, when they seemed so singular and incommensurable to me. I was particularly bothered by the way he treated one jumper, a young man probably in his late twenties; from interviews one got the impression he was rather romantic and melodramatic (one of his friends mentioned how he'd always talk about killing himself in general conversation, or how she found him writing 'end me' in chalk on the sidewalk outside her house one day). This is used as the climax of the film, and we get repeated footage of the guy walking up and down the bridge intercut with interivews etc., all building up to the jump itself, which we know is coming (and is itself particularly dramatic). The way this narrative was imposed upon the footage seemed the most manipulative part of the film. For example, the way suspense was created because the film-maker held back footage of the actual jump throughout the sequence until its close, when obviously the audience know this is coming throughout and are waiting for it. I felt complicit somehow, not just in the sense that I was watching it and could not intervene, and knew that the film-maker had not done so (this is explored in the film itself in a segment about a photographer who started taking pictures of lady who was about to jump off the bridge; he talks about how he felt disconnected from it while he was behind his camera, and carried on taking photographs even when he knew what was going on, though he did eventually intervene and prevented the woman from jumping); no, it was the way the documentary used this particular guy, and sort of bought into the way he seemed to view himself.
Throughout the film there were lots of shot of him strolling up and down the bridge, sweeping aside his hair. In final sequence these are cut with interviews of friends and family. The sense of drama and suspense created by these repeated shots and delayed denoument, even though it was quite gentle, seemed to depend on or exploit what seemed to be the characteristics intimately tied up with the reasons this guy killed himself, the romance and drama. That was why I felt complicit, because the film-maker seemed to be going along with or picking up on this suicide because of these points, this idea the guy had of himself which lent itself so well to what the film-maker needed.
Also, in complete contrast to what I've just said, I didn't like the way the interviews cut with the footage here and throughout the film served to explain and frame the suicides. They situated the jumps and gave us some background, but it seemed like the background provided some sort of resolution and closure (despite the families confusion and frustration),when again it felt like these actions were so incredibly private, inexplicable, incommensurable, especially without any participation from the individual concerned.
And all this added up: the soundtracking, the obvious artifice in how the footage of suicides was cut for the film, the overall 'narrative' and approach. Bits of footage stuck out from all this, e.g. friends saying how pissed off and angry they were, how stupid it seemed. But I still left feeling that the documentary neutralised these acts, tried to make them explicable, part of a coherent narrative... Which is obviously part of what a documentary should do, but it was all it did, there was no real attempt to tackle how these events were so singular, incomprehensible and incommensurable. And with something as personal as suicide, I think that's incredibly important.
So, as I said, I'm rather confused by it all. I'm not sure how clear I've been, but I think it was a really interesting attempt, and even if people haven't seen the film we could perhaps discuss the surrounding issues. I'm particularly interested in whether one could film events like this, fit them into a coherent and wathcable film, without being guilty of manipulative exploitation. I mean, perhaps that's integral to making a film, in which case I guess it becomes a question of degree...
And beyond all that, should this film have been made in the first place? I think a lot of my problems with the film sprung from the fact that the jumpers themselves could not be involved (although there are interviews with a lad who survived a jump!); and this wasn't dealt with particularly well, but again it was necessary or unavoidable because of how the documentary was filmed. |
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