There's something very innoccuous about the title of this film about the bridge spanning San Francisco's Golden Gate. Don't get me wrong, the bridge itself is far from innoccuous. Nor the content matter of the film.

On my fourth day in San Francisco, having already been on a knackering but rewarding* safari through The Presidio the day before, I left my friend Laura at her hotel at Fisherman's Wharf and started walking West toward a little beach she'd recommended nearby. The bridge was far far off in the distance, but it still dominated the horizon. The beach was nice enough, and I spent time walking around the marina taking shots of the city, but I finally decided that afternoon I would walk along the peninsula to the bridge.

I could've planned it better. No water, no sunscreen, shoes that had started to rub a little on the heel, a strong headwind that got and more oppressive the further I went; the sands of Crissy Field getting right in my face. I'd walked about five miles; it felt like fifty, but the bridge was now close enough that I wasn't going to give up now and turn back. It took me another half hour to walk to the base of the bridge and up the steps to the noise and smell of a couple hundred meandering tourists mingled with the noise and smell of the one hundred thousand vehicles a day that pass over the 1.7 mile span. It's an amazing structure, even more so when youre walking North up the the right-hand side. From a distance it looks elegant. From up-close its takes on the appearance of an impenetrable fortress.

When Eric Steel petitioned bridge officials he told them that he planned to film through 2004 to show the "powerful and spectacular interaction between the monument and nature". He was granted access and he filmed almost continuously for the whole of that year with two teams of 8-10 people working his cameras. When the filming complete Steel wrote to the officials and explained the true purpose of his documentary; out of the 24 suicides from the bridge, Steel said he had caught all but one on film.

It starts early on in the film before the credits roll. A shot of the bridge, the fog unravelling, and then a close-up of a man climbing over the railing, down on to the ledge, then leaping off. The camera follows him, he hits the water and disappears. Seconds later a guy on sail-board sails over the spot when the man vanished. A voiceover cuts over the image of the ebbing waves, the sailboarder describing the event when he realised that what he'd seen hit the water was another human being.

Of the 23 suicides captured during 2004, The Bridge covers, in-depth, around six. The action cuts between footage of those who committed suicide, and their family and friends talking about them and, in particular, their mental health. You don't see the suicides immediately. Steel introduces tension and builds up to the event, though this parallels in much the same way many of those who jump from the bridge who walk up and down the walkway for often long periods of time before making their final decision to leap.

The Bridge is not all about the suicides however. Through some stunning photography, is also attempts to show why the bridge has become such a focal point for suicides. It is stunningly beautiful; when the sunlight dissipates through the fog that rolls in, through and under the span, the unexpected rainbows, the wildlife.

For some in the audience the film was, at points, harrowing, certainly the surprise of the first jump, but in particular the last, an image that I'm sure I will carry with me always because of its power. The Bridge is very voyeuristic (one bridge official, in disgust, described it a snuff movie), but you learn a lot about those half-a-dozen people and are given the chance to understand and sympathise with them through the commentary.

An incredible film.

*Ah yes, the postscript. I got a surprise text while I was in SF from my friend Laura, the woman who is attempting to build her lunar clock, Aluna, on the Thames (http://www.alunatime.org/, posted here before.) She was flying into SF the next day to deliver a presentation on her project to luminaries of the lighting design culture on the West Coast.

I decided to walk, it didnt look far :)

I got into a bit of a panic because I was wandering lost around The Presidio about 1/2hr before the event was meant to start, but as luck would have it, having dodged cars on one of the main roads (no sidewalk) up to the GGB freeway I finally found the Log Cabin, literally a log cabin. I've known Laura for about twelve years, known about Aluna for about five, but it was the first time I'd really known what it actually all meant. It was a great presentation. Those of the SF contingent seemed very excited about having an Aluna for themselves. A lovely bunch of people. The wine wasn't free tho.

It sounds like an amazing film. I'll look out for it.

The bridge itself is such an incredible structure. I'm not normally impressed by huge engineering thingies, but the GG Bridge seems to be almost alive, or at least sentient. It's eery and beautiful and moody and whimsical all at once.

uws, that Aluna project is AWESOME.

Ain't it just. I think everythings ready to go; they just need a plot of land on the river (a river) and a planning license to build.

It's amazing that this was Laura's final project at art college that I went to see in (around) 2000.

Finally, there are few pics of the GGB in this set of my trip to SF.

Those photos are fantastic.

Thanks. Fris almost died with glee when i showed her the hydrant wearing the cone :)

This is my favourite. Has a O Brother Where Art Thou texture.

Occhiblu...

Thank you!

I just went out for drinks with a friend. I had this image in my head the entire time (partly because he had just returned to SF, and it seemed neatly symbolic of that).

Really, just... awesome photos. They clicked into parts of my brain in an unexpected way and I expect they'll stay there for quite a while.