I also made the mistake of viewing The Bridge on a day in between meds.
It would be easy, then, for me to ascribe a great weight to Steel's film. I won't, deliberately, because this is a documentary completely unconcerned with assuming such importance. It's a film almost without thesis, without communicated concern beyond filling its frames with raw humanity. There's no interference by the filmmakers. Those who loved the suicides, after their own fashion, speak their candid, baffled, broken stories. And, in a decision sure to raise a dissonant note of ethical concern, there is no interaction with the suicides themselves (barring the one failed attempt) apart from observing their bodies and distant, blurry faces tumbling from the rails.
As a film concerned with the distances that stretch between people, The Bridge does two things remarkably well: Displaying the humanity of its interview subjects, and ascribing humanity to the suicides. The skill necessary to create a texture of acceptance, denial, anger, and more out of brief interviews with people of no special import can't be overlooked. In the interview segments, Steel and his crew capture a startling amount of insight into the lives of the survivors and, one step removed, into those of the suicides. The editing deserves a lot of the credit, here.The different subjects are balanced throughout the film, picking up with one of the suicides, intercutting with another, concluding the first and moving to a third; it's a complicated layering of individuals, and it works wonders. While some of those individuals reach no greater insight than that their suicide is in a better place, the creation of context within the film lends even those small clichés an air of wisdom, as one part of a larger understanding.
I was consistently spellbound by Steel's ability to penetrate the emotions of his subjects, but even moreso by what is built out of the suicides themselves. We get to see them wandering back and forth on the bridge. They lean over the railings; they wave aside concerned passers-by; they prepare; they lose their courage. They jump. These sequences look like the sort of things you'd find drifting through the seas of viral videos online, but when watching The Bridge you feel no cheap thrill. Your heart picks up, but it's out of sympathy for the human being, out of recognition of the strange, contorted logic that has rewired their brains.
You know that feeling where you want to scream at a fictional character to do something differently? This time, Lancelot, don't fail your king. This time, Hamlet, don't listen to your uncle. I predict you will never feel that moreso than when one of Steel's subjects vaults the railing, pauses for half a second, then shoves clear.
By imbuing such a spirit of humanity in these subjects, Steel has done something that I think is both quiet and important. Suicide, as an extension of depression or other mental illnesses, isn't well understood by society at large. It's an anomaly, usually attributed to selfishness, when a motivator can be attached at all. Here, Steel has done the best thing he can to communicate to a wide audience: he has put human faces on a complicated subject. We can relate to real humans, and Steel portrays them well, the living and the dead.As an educational tool, it's also worth noting that the one surviving suicide attempt is given extensive coverage in the latter third of the film, and has a lot to share about the specifics of bipolar disorder. "Bipolar" is one of those buzzwords , one of the chic diagnoses going around these days, but here you'll find a succinct example of how it affects a life and how it can be contained.
I'm finding that the other notes I've taken on this film all relate to me, personally, and aren't really suited for this review. This film has been on my mind for a solid week, now, as I've dug for the words to give it proper consideration. I will be encouraging as many people as I can to watch this, as an example of how compelling nonfiction can be, and how such minimal strokes can be used to illuminate a cloudy subject."
6 comments:
After Netflix told me "Very long wait", as he always does when I want a documentary, I hit the street and went to no less than 10 stores looking for a copy. Not a single store carried it, which makes me wonder if they're shying away from it because of the morbid subject matter. Anyhoo, I ordered it off Amazon.
I remember reading about this when it was in the theaters. I'm very curious. Who the hell could bring themselves to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge? I have to admit, I'm very apathetic towards people who take their own lives. What really makes me sick is the murder/suicides like Chris Benoit. Fine, kill yourself - but don't make that decision for your wife and 7 year old son...
And Netflix isn't exaggerating when they say "very long wait". It took about 5 months to get Grey Gardens.
I had also read about this when it first came out. I don't know if I could watch it.
Totally with you Johnny on the murder/suicide thing. Suicide is selfish enough as it is in it's way to everyone left behind, don't take others with you.
So Netflix is a "he?"
The movie sounds interesting; I recall a fair amount of chatter about it when it was being made; the city wasn't too happy about what the flimmaker did with the permits they gave him. If he really managed to make a worthy film out of it, good for him.
I'm still waiting for Netflix to tell me Negadon: Monster from Mars is on dvd.
Interesting.
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