WHERE, OR WHAT, IS HOME? THAT question has as many answers as there are humans to ponder it. In The Last Black Man in San Francisco, Joe Talbot’s odd and wonderful debut film, two young black men, best friends and natives of that often romanticized yet deeply complicated city, take a semi-dilapidated Victorian house under their wing. It has special meaning for one of them, Jimmie (Jimmie Fails), whose grandfather built the house in 1946—or so Jimmie believes. Jimmie’s family lost the house years ago; it’s now owned by a high-strung, middle-aged white woman with no sense of its past beyond its obvious, aged beauty. (Its high market value, given its prime Fillmore District location, is a given.)
Jimmie and his friend Montgomery (Jonathan Majors), a soulful writer and…