|About the film:|
Medicine For Melancholy is the story of two African-American twenty-somethings who wake up in bed together having no recollection of how they arrived there. From the appearance of things it’s clear they’ve had sex. Then, an exercise in the mundane: they dress; neither has a toothbrush, find themselves side by side at the sink, thumbing toothpaste across their gums; decide to have a cup of coffee at a nearby café; sit together then, while awaiting service, realize neither knows the other’s name; introduce; cab for the trip home—“across town” each says to the other of where they live—share this cab, the girl dropped off first; shake hands, part ways. Hours later, the guy shows up at her apartment. She left her purse on the backseat. There’s a connection. They give themselves over to it.
Wandering the streets of San Francisco on a Sunday afternoon, the pair take in the sights of the city less seen in today’s cinema—the gloriously appointed Museum of African Diaspora, Yuerba Buena Gardens and its sprawling blend of civil rights memorials, wide lawns and tea gardens. As day gives way to night and their heads swirl further with the euphoria of pleasures both physical and intellectual, the immediacy of their previous physical encounter leads them to explore each other in a succession of moments so intimate the vulnerability they share changes them forever. By the time these two part ways is it literally a “brand new day.”