The Last Black Man in San Francisco Movie Review

There is something about the work that comes out of A24 that is just beautifully stunning. The Last Black Man in San Francisco is no different. The saturation of color, the shots, and cinematography is the real allure of the movie. Personally I have not visited San Francisco, but now I am curious to go. It reminded me of a James Baldwin piece, and there was a picture of him on one of the characters mirrors, so I think we can say that may have been a nod to him.

Jimmie Fails dreams of reclaiming the Victorian home his grandfather built in the heart of San Francisco. Joined on his quest by his best friend Mont, Jimmie searches for belonging in a rapidly changing city that seems to have left them behind. As he struggles to reconnect with his family and reconstruct the community he longs for, his hopes blind him to the reality of his situation.

A wistful odyssey populated by skaters, squatters, street preachers, playwrights, and other locals on the margins, The Last Black Man in San Francisco is a poignant and sweeping story of hometowns and how they’re made—and kept alive—by the people who love them.

This is a film about ownership, family, community, gentrification, and belonging. The story is filmed around “the house” which may or may not have been built by Jimmie’s grandfather. This is not an action pact film, but one of layers and variables. However, I feel like it’s more of a coming of age, taking off the rose colored glasses story and accepting one’s truth.