Closing Shots: David Fincher

A collection of final shots from the works of David Fincher.

David Liu | 18 December 2011

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The Social Network: Open Spaces

David Liu | 20 December 2010

In David Fincher’s The Social Network, familiar geographic landmarks contextualize the film’s narrative within the fabric of history and modernity.

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Promises to Keep

Katherine Bruens’ Corner Store

David Liu | 23 February 2010

The sign above the entrance reads “Church St. Market” in plain, tell-all letters. A cursory sweep of the camera reveals the usual suspects, from sandwich counters and liquor shelves to rows upon rows of pharmaceutical products. 

For Palestinian corner store owner Yousef Elhaj, whose family lives 7,368 miles away in Bethlehem, each new morning brings both familiarity and hope. His story forms the basis for Katherine Bruens’s feature documentary Corner Store, which screened at San Francisco’s annual IndieFest.

Situated at the crossroads of 15th and Church between San Francisco’s Mission and Castro Districts, the film’s titular subject looks and feels no different from any other convenience deli in the city. Like other corner stores, its significance to the local neighborhood transcends its unremarkable facade. Working 16 hours a day behind the counter, Yousef manages his store quietly but passionately, straightening shelves and adjusting deli cases with admirable dedication.

Bruens and cinematographer Sean Gillane capture Yousef’s personality through an array of documentary footage, observing him through both professional and personal lenses. Lively interactions with friends and customers are contrasted beautifully with simpler moments such as when he is giving a tour of his sleeping quarters, a claustrophobic one-room abode situated behind the corner store. When he introduces wife and children through a collection of photographs, his eyes silently acknowledge that they remain close to his heart half a world away.

While Yousef’s situation renders him both an everyman and an anomaly, his genial tone and self-assured posture add to the film’s authenticity. When he boards a plane to visit his family in the West Bank, we look forward to the reunion as much as he does. As Corner Store transitions from the New World to the Old, Bruens and Gillane imbue the documentary with a more cinematic visual palette, capturing the naturalistic beauty of Yousef’s reunion with his wife and children.

In seeking to explore their subjects in greater detail and enlighten audiences with their findings, documentarians are essentially trailblazers. With Corner Store, Bruens has crafted a poignant ode to the immigrant working class and the intrinsic bond shared between community and national identity. “I was touched by the neighborhood story, and looking around, I found the most beautiful, charming store owner to document in Yousef,” Bruens explained as she stood alongside Gillane during the post-screening question-and-answer session at the Roxie Theatre.

On the film’s development and Yousef’s voluntary participation, Bruens candidly evoked her subject’s personality. “He was too polite not to let us follow him for 14 months and film a documentary about him,” she admitted with a smile. Added Gillane: “Neither of us speak Arabic, so it was a challenge at first.” As a two-person crew, their collaborative effort in producing Corner Store is both impressive and inspiring.

The night of the premiere concluded with one final surprise. In the back of the screening room sat Yousef Elhaj himself, accompanied by his wife and children. One by one, the members of the audience stood up and participated in a standing ovation. As the crowd dispersed, I walked down the aisle to congratulate Yousef on his successful reunion with his loved ones. We shook hands. He looked at me and smiled, wisdom and humility radiating through his world-weary yet twinkling eyes.

Medicine for Melancholy (Barry Jenkins, 2009)

David Liu | 27 January 2010

No other American movie of the past year expresses the spontaneity and joie de vivre of living in the moment quite like Barry Jenkins’ Medicine for Melancholy. Teeming with intelligent observations on relationships, race and urban existence, it’s a film that dares to pose questions without definite answers, driven by a narrative that’s both candid and beguiling. A pair of twenty-somethings meet and fall in love in modern-day San Francisco, and their brief tryst emerges as a symptom of our times.

The film opens on the morning after a drunken one-night stand, introducing us to Micah (Wyatt Cenac) and ‘Jo (Tracey Heggins). Both have no clear memory of what happened the previous evening; ‘Jo is eager to escape the irreversible current, but Micah is too smitten to allow that to happen. As the day progresses, the duo reunite and proceed on a impromptu odyssey through the city. They visit museums and ride carousels, converse about race and make love. San Francisco is theirs, a vibrant potpourri of ethnicities and communities on the verge of rapid gentrification.

Medicine for Melancholy works on multiple levels - contemporary romance, city symphony, love letter to cinema. Its success is a measure of the gifted Jenkins, who directs with the understanding that eloquent silences generate a different kind of dialectical power than talky banter. Through their verbal and physical interactions, ‘Jo and Micah radiate authenticity. They talk, act, reason and fight like real people, pushing past the invisible boundaries that often restrict screen lovers. Cenac and Robbins contribute fine and utterly believable performances, their affair captured in gorgeous sepia tones by cinematographer James Laxton.

That this is Barry Jenkins’ feature debut makes the triumph of Medicine for Melancholy all the more substantial. As a narrative, it may be imperfectly hewn and rough around the edges, but how else can such an occasion be captured? Stories like these exist everywhere, and that notion alone makes the film an experience to cherish. Walking down Market Street in San Francisco in the middle of the day, one can’t help but glimpse two figures strolling past a sea of nameless faces - ‘Jo and Micah, hardly star-crossed, desperately alive. 

David Fincher’s Zodiac

David Liu | 15 November 2009

A police procedural revolving around the eponymous serial killer whose presence created a sensation in 1970s Northern California, David Fincher’s Zodiac masterfully exposes the fears and obsessions of a bygone era. As reporters and detectives become hopelessly consumed by the case, the passage of time emerges as the film’s central device, fueling their desires and foiling their advances. With a painterly eye, Fincher and cameraman Harris Savides recreate San Francisco history to a degree of unsettling urgency.