Review: Moonlight
An extraordinary film that instantly and irrevocably marks itself as essential viewing, Moonlight is a transfixing portrait of black masculinity and the very human need for connection. Somehow both epic and intimate, its observation of a man's quest to discover his own identity as his environment and the world at large are constantly who he should be is almost unbearable in its beauty.
Written and directed by Barry Jenkins, adapting playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney's In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue, the film follows its protagonist through three chapters of his life. The first finds nine-year-old Chiron (Alex Hibbert), dubbed "Little" by the schoolyard bullies who chase him into an abandoned motel at the start of the film. Little is painfully shy and withdrawn, neglected by his drug-addicted mother (Naomie Harris) and without the guiding presence of a father. He's discovered by local drug dealer Juan (Mahershala Ali), who brings him home to be fed and cared for by his girlfriend Teresa (Janelle Monáe). Though Little barely says a word, it's clear that he finds solace in Juan's mentoring and Teresa's nurturing.
The other important figure in Little's life is Kevin (Jaden Piner), the only one of his classmates who befriends him and encourages him to stand up to the bullies. Kevin also awakens something else within Little. In one of the many stunning sequences that revolve around the question of sexuality, the two boys tussle on the schoolyard and the look on Little's face after the grappling is done makes it evidently clear what the physical contact has meant. Yet this adds another layer of complexity to Little's struggles. It is difficult enough to be black in a society that will always marginalise him, but to be a homosexual also makes him a bigger target in his own neighbourhood where masculine posturing is the only acceptable behaviour.
Little's attempt to understand the implications of his sexuality leads him to ask Juan some very uncomfortable questions. Jenkins' handling of the scene is emblematic of Moonlight's ability to devastate with the silences and glances between words. Jenkins often builds hold-your-breath tension from the most ordinary situations, whether it be this interrogation scene, the moonlight encounter between the teenaged Chiron and Kevin in the second chapter, the third-chapter reunion between the two when Chiron has become a muscled, grill-wearing drug and Kevin now a server and a cook at a diner, or even the wonderfully peaceful moment when Juan teaches Little to swim and let himself go.
Moonlight works on multiple levels. In many respects, each chapter interlocks, repeating and layering motifs, and yet also able to stand apart. Too often in films featuring this structure, one section is stronger than the other but this is not the case with Moonlight. Each segment is perfectly crafted and each speaks to something in one's soul. Who hasn't felt overlooked, unloved, and confused about one's place in the world? Who hasn't felt longing, disappointment, and suffocated by one's circumstances?
It bears repeating what a monumental achievement Jenkins has produced with Moonlight. This is only his second feature film and yet it feels like a career-encompassing masterwork. Its texture, its poetry, its resonance - every bit of this film is so emotionally rewarding that it puts so many other films to shame. Jenkins has created characters that are often stereotypically rendered and humanised them not only with his writing but with his casting of Ali, Harris and Monáe, who are all exemplary. Three separate actors (Hibbert, Ashton Sanders and Trevante Rhodes) portray Chiron yet, unlike most films where one can see a disconnect once a different actor assumes the same role, there is an emotional throughline and all three actors are individually revelatory in their naturalness and intuition; they may never be this astonishing again.
Piercingly powerful, mercilessly heartbreaking and achingly romantic, Moonlight is a sublime and challenging commentary on the politics of identity. Melancholy and a sense of resignation may permeate the film, but this is a hopeful film, one that acknowledges the tragedy of making one's way in a world that stifles one's identity but that also understands the capacity of healing oneself by speaking up. Electrifying.
Moonlight
Directed by: Barry Jenkins
Written by: Barry Jenkins; based on the play In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue by Tarell Alvin McCraney
Starring: Naomie Harris, Mahershala Ali, Janelle Monáe, Trevante Rhodes, Ashton Sanders, Alex Hibbert, Andre Holland, Jharrel Jerome, Jaden Piner
