Medicine for Melancholy: A Dose of Reality |
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| Written by Grace Wang |
| Friday, 16 April 2010 00:00 |
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Girl: "This is a one night stand." Boy: "It's only been one night...can't do anything about that." Boy. Girl. The City of rises and falls. Here is a 24-hour observation of the story between these three characters.
Girl is tall, slim, heart-shaped face, pretty smile, short choppy hair with bangs that fall across her forehead. Cautious. Boy and girl meet at a party in the city one night, drunk. They wake up together the next morning. Sneaking out. Boy tries to get girl's attention, unsuccessfully. Girl wants nothing to do with boy, unsuccessfully. Girl left her wallet behind in a cab, unintentionally. Boy finds the wallet and tracks her down, intentionally. Girl is not pleased to see boy, at first. Boy, in his own quirky way, charms girl. Girl and boy wander the city together. They bike and walk by many places, some well known, some unknown. They discover their commonalities. They spark. Boy and girl make love, for real this time. They go grocery shopping after. Hmmm. They talk seriously about housing, music, and race. They discover their differences. Boy and girl spend the night together, their second one. It is now, technically, more than a one-night-stand. The morning comes . . . Boy is still boy. Girl is still girl. Beautifully shot, the film is almost black and white. Drained of the colors that saturate perceptions and veil judgments, it clears the palate. All we see is the boy, and the girl, and the city, which are beautiful. All of them.
Girl: "It seems like this city just pisses you off." Boy: "Nah, I love this city. I hate this city, but I love this city. San Francisco is beautiful . . . you shouldn't have to be upper middle class to be a part of that."
Even through this desaturated lens, the color never completely goes away. It is present, and it makes its effect known. Actually, the boy and the girl affect it to be known. They choose to. They can't help it.
So in the end, what else can I say? This is a melancholy dose of reality. It tastes bitter, and sweet, and all kinds of lovely. It is medicine . . . medicine for what? You tell me.
Director Barry Jenkins presents his feature debut with clarity and subtlety. He takes a fresh approach to the age-old formula of boy-meets-girl and, in fact, looks past their gender-defined roles to focus on the qualities that exemplify these two unique individuals who -- surprise -- don't fit squarely into social conventions and stereotypes: "I wanted to present these two people, who are very specific and very unique individuals, and then have other people define their blackness. Because to me it's almost like . . . you know, when I first wrote the script the idea is that it was going to be about an interracial couple. But I thought that by making it two characters of color, the kind of issue they talk about would be more dynamic because you would assume that they agree on everything, but of course they are not the same people." This approach is exactly where the film succeeds. It is fresh. It is unique. And just like Micah and Jo, its two central characters, it is interesting in a most bare, stripped-down fashion. Wyatt Cenac (Micah) and Tracey Heggins (Jo) shine through it all, in between witty banter and honest revelations. At the end I wanted to know more about their lives. I related to them. I was invested. The film is a dose of medicine all right, not for melancholy, but an antidote for all the empty, Nicholas Sparks-inspired insipid fantasies out there. In here, I don't care for a sugar rush, I'd rather have a dose of reality. Tags: barry jenkins, cinema, medicine for melancholy, nicholas sparks, play, race, san francisco, tracey heggins, wyatt cenac
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Comments (2)
thanks
this is a criminally under-appreciated film. there is a slow segment, where the couple sort of listens in on a community organizing meeting where not-unimportant but not-narratively-propulsive social issues are discussed (and discussed, and discussed). but that is completely forgivable because the rest of the movie, the performances, the locations, the themes explored, they're all expertly realized. no, i wasn't involved in making the film in any way. but i really liked it, and i really like seeing someone take the time to write about it. thanks.
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Thanks for the comment Omar. I agree that this film is way under-appreciated. Films about relationships between young people these days rarely dare to delve into complex, non-romantic themes like housing, race, social justice etc., as if all people in love care to talk about is love love love. I thought it was so refreshing that this film shows a relationship between two thoughtful, complex individuals as just that - thoughtful and complex. |
Boy is average height, lanky, dark chocolate soulful eyes, full beard. Nice.
Medicine for Melancholy (2008) is a beautiful little gem of a film. Blushing with melancholy, simmering in realism, it portrays the budding relationship between two strangers, a boy and a girl, in the aftermath of a one-night stand. Through their one day together, the film explores the more complicated and subtle issues of race, housing, and the reality faced by unique, thoughtful, young African Americans living in San Francisco today.
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