First, I own up to the fact that I�m hella tardy for the party in watching Fruitvale Station. The film�s portrayal of Oscar Grant�s last day of life is accessible and the pain associated with his unnecessary death is still fresh. When it was released in theatres this past July I was still reeling from the George Zimmerman verdict. I couldn�t pair George Zimmerman�s acquittal with the pain of watching Grant�s chance at life die along with him.


However, at the request of students we watched the film in my hip hop and postracial sensibilities course this past Friday. I remain haunted by the film. Fruitvale beautifully excavates the humanity of Oscar Grant. However, the film�s stunning attention to the sonic details of Grant�s life remain tight in my chest. The use of sound in the film and film trailers amplifies the complexity of Grant�s humanity.

When I was first introduced to the film, it was via a television commercial featuring Fabolous� song �Breathe.� The trailer hinges on the viewer�s ability to immediately situate black masculinity in hip hop. However, the deeper implications of the song�s chorus combined with visual clips from the film complicate Grant�s death using hip hop sensibilities. The song is a testament to Fabolous� rap prowess, but using it to contextualize the film points to what could be read as Oscar Grant�s struggle to live a justifiable life and his desperate attempts to live after being shot. Grant�s fight to breathe sonically parallels Fabolous� gasping for air in the chorus. The track amplifies the urgency of Grant�s life and the need to see the film, situating Oscar Grant as a body to be mourned and remembered in a hip hop space.


Perhaps the most memorable (sonic) reification of Oscar Grant�s life and his connection to hip hop in the film is the New Year�s Eve countdown on the BART train. Grant and his friends play the Bay area�s hip hop signature imprint of hyphy music. As Grant and his friends play the music another man on the train lets the group borrow his portable speaker and the entire train car dances and �goes stupid.� The speaker�s amplification of the song also signifies a larger understanding of hip hop�s function as a communal space. Hyphy cements Grant and his worth within a hip hop imagination before his tragic detainment is recorded by train passengers.

Screenshot from Ryan Coogler's Fruitvale Station (2012)
The film is equally stunning in its use of sonic [hip hop] sensibilities. Fruitvale�s score composer is Ludwig G�ransson. The film�s producer, Ryan Coogler expressed in one interview how his intent for the film�s music was to �blend in with the environment, and subtly put the audience in Oscar�s head.� The attention to Fruitvale�s sonic detail alludes to the gray space of sonic and visuality as markers of one�s experience. The �quiet� of the film is particularly stunning as it signifies both the (in)visibility of Grant�s struggles and the lack of literal discourse to express the anxieties Grant experiences. Also, the pockets of silence reflect the racial anxieties imposed upon him. Scenes with minimal scoring force the audience to acknowledge and work through Grant�s humanity. They invoke a visceral response to not only witnessing the vulnerability of Grant�s intimate life but the anxiety of watching Grant�s life end.

Fruitvale Station is a slow burn film. It painfully captures the flawed beauty of Oscar Grant�s life in ways that make the trauma of his death accessible to those who may be unfamiliar with the anxieties of being a policed black body in �postracial� America. In a moment where the deaths of black boys and black men warrants quick outrage but slow rectification, films like Fruitvale Station are necessary to bond the agency of blackness with the (mis)conceptions of black folks� realities in popular spaces.