WhatzUp

The Bridge
by Derek Neff

THE BRIDGE

San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge is the site of more suicides than any other place on earth. Two dozen people jump to their deaths from the edge of the bridge every year. In a move as shocking as it is potentially tasteless, documentary filmmaker Eric Steel and his crew trained their long-lens cameras on the Golden Gate Bridge for one full year, knowing that they were certain to capture a score of suicides during this time. They kept their cell phones set on speed dial for the bridge patrol in an attempt to intervene before anyone actually jumped, but this of course did not prevent anyone truly determined from ending their lives.

It's distressingly easy to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. The railing on either side of the bridge is only four feet high, so it's simply a matter of raising your legs, hitching yourself over and leaping. (Steel's project was inspired by a riveting article in The New Yorker by Tad Friend about the failed effort on the part of local activists to install a suicide-proof barrier on the bridge.)

Be warned that The Bridge shows several people who, at their most desperate and sad hour, are seen making the fatal jump. It could be seen as tasteless, even exploitative, to show the on-camera deaths of these poor souls, but The Bridge deeply concerns itself with the loved ones left behind, and explores the extended histories of mental illness and/or sadness suffered by its individual subjects.

What we see and hear is alternately horrifying, inspiring and heartbreaking. We see a woman step out onto the outer ledge, only to be pulled back by a concerned passerby. We see another man talking on a cell phone, then hanging up, crossing himself and, in a matter of a second or two, jumping off. We see another troubled man named Glen pacing back and forth, back and forth, his long black hair blowing in the breeze as he presumably struggles with his inner demons. Steel splices this footage with interviews with Glen's friends until we can no longer possibly see Glen as just another face on a screen. The image of Glen's eventual backward plunge is so matter-of-fact that it wasn't until the following day that the full weight of what I had seen really hit me, and a tremor of horror and compassion rippled through me.

Jumping from the Golden Gate is almost certainly fatal, but it's not always so. We meet a young man, Kevin Hines, who made the jump and somehow survived. Hines describes how, after his feet left the bridge, he immediately regretted what he'd done and subsequently made a conscious effort to hit the water feet-first. (Even so, he's extremely lucky to be alive.)

The Bridge is just as much about the people left behind as it is about the suicides. Through interview after interview, we hear how parents, friends and loved ones more or less knew what was coming, and took steps to try to intervene, but were ultimately helpless in preventing it. The Bridge is a stark, quietly profound meditation on despair, and on that razor-thin line between life and death that some cannot help but voluntarily cross.