The Bridge

2006 documentary

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Over the course of a year, a bunch of people jump off the Golden Gate Bridge because they've decided they don't want to live anymore.

I really had mixed feelings about this one. Part of me saw a poignant beauty in this whole thing; another part of me thought it might have been a little exploitative. Part of me was troubled by watching so many human beings' final moments, and part of me was a little annoyed with added splash sounds. This is one of the more poetic documentaries you'll ever see. I'm fairly positive that I'll never take my own life--though you can never completely rule out something like that, can you?--but if I had to pick the way I had to go, I'd want to go in a way as poetic as this. There's a seven-second dance through the mist, but then it's juxtaposed with a violent crash into the waters and what has to be a great deal of internal violence. There's something very Zen about that contrast, isn't there? The titular location itself is pretty damned poetic, too, and a lot of the shots we get of the bridge force the viewer to be reflective or meditative or whatever the right word is. Of course, the money shots here are the ones with these souls leaping to their deaths. The very first one, following some light piano and time-lapsed shots of fog of clouds engulfing the bridge and its pedestrians, is one of those impossible images to shake. You know the guy's going to jump because you know what the movie's about, but that doesn't lessen the impact of seeing a guy--almost impulsively--climb over and leap. The numerous chilling shots of people climbing over that railing, looking around like they're searching for somebody to do something, and then leaping just aren't shots that you get used to. And there's one profound image of a person standing and looking--even from that distance--obviously distressed while a bunch of other people just whisk on by. Interviews with the dead's family and friends only deepen the impact. There's also a story with a guy who survives because he changed his mind and was then saved by a seal sent from God which does sound exactly like the sort of thing God would do. The central figure in this is a guy with a leather jacket and Tommy Wiseau hair who appears like he's being filmed for an hour and a half before he--spoiler alert--makes his plunge in what can only be described as a flamboyant manner. It's fascinating, a little beautiful, and heart-breaking. I'm not sure what this all adds up to or what it all means.

My biggest gripe: I don't like lyrics in my documentaries.