We live in a racist society. When the president-elect appoints a known white nationalist as his Chief Strategist, we can without a doubt say that these are dark, troubled times indeed. Seeing Barry Jenkins' lovely, dreamy, moving film Moonlight under these circumstances was a unique experience and I hope that anyone reading this blog will consider seeing the film, which is the coming of age story of a black, gay man shown in three parts: as a young boy, a shy teen, and a full-grown man still angry and still hurting from his difficult childhood.
For those of you who don't like sad or difficult films, especially during sad and difficult times, I can assure you that the main theme of this movie is not despair, but love and hope. It's not a film that offers escapism, but it's one that tells a story rarely seen on screen: a black man's coming of age.
The first third of the film is titled "Little", the nickname of Chiron, a nine-year old boy growing up in Miami with a crack-addicted mom. Alex Hibbert plays young Chiron--a quiet, meek child with large, observant eyes. Naomie Harris plays Paula, his mother, in a fully fleshed out portrait of a woman who feels love for her son but can't pull herself out of her own addiction long enough to truly be there for him as a parent. Instead, she yells at him when he doesn't behave, despite being unable to model good behavior herself. Harris does an amazing job with a character who isn't cruel, just very weak and deeply flawed.
After running away from bullies, Chiron is discovered hiding in an abandoned home by Juan (Mahershala Ali, who is on the verge of stardom after his turn as Cotton Mouth in Marvel's Luke Cage), a crack dealer with--yes--a heart of gold. He lets Chiron stay the night with him and his girlfriend, Teresa (Janelle Monae). Teresa becomes a mother figure in Chiron's life, giving him a place to sleep and a warm meal when things are hard at home. Juan, too, becomes a parental figure to Chiron--in a beautiful scene, he teaches the boy to swim, supporting him in his arms in the lazy, Floridian waters. The scene reminds one of a baptism:
Additionally, when Chiron asks Juan and Teresa what a "faggot" is after he gets called one at school, the two adults explain that it's a word to "make gay people feel bad". Chiron asks "Am I a faggot?" and Juan answers "No", indicating that while Chiron might be gay, he should not feel bad about it.
The second act is titled "Chiron" and takes place during Chiron's teen years (he is now played by Ashton Sanders). Chiron has a close friend from childhood, Kevin (played by Jharrel Jerome as a teenager). Although Chiron continues to be bullied, he and Kevin remain close. Their relationship culminates in Kevin giving Chiron a hand job on the beach one night. The scene is much more emotionally deep than you would think given the phrase "hand job". I liked that the two young men engaged in this lower stakes form of sexuality since it seemed more realistic than two teen boys having full-blown intercourse. The scene feels more like a passionate expression of friendship instead of horny fooling around (at least to me; others may have different feelings about the scene).
The next day, however, Chiron's main bully, Terrel (Patrick Decile), goads Kevin into punching Chiron until he falls down. Chiron keeps getting back up, forcing his friend to keep hitting him until the bullies jump Chiron. The day after the beating, Chiron comes to school and breaks a chair over Terrel's head and is carted off to prison.
The final chapter is titled "Black" and takes place when Chiron is probably in his late 20s/early 30s (played by Trevante Rhodes). After his stint in juvie, Chiron turned to drug dealing (much like his father figure, Juan) and has been successful at it. Chiron is tall and jacked--no longer a skinny boy who is easily picked on. He is rich with a gold mouthpiece and a nice house. His mother has since entered rehab and now works at the rehabilitation center. It seems like (other than the less than legal career path he chose) Chiron has moved beyond his tough childhood. But when he receives a call from Kevin (played by Andre Holland, who is sexy as hell, let me tell you), who works at a diner, Chiron can't help traveling to visit his old friend. They share dinner and wine at Kevin's diner and then go back to Kevin's place. You might expect a hot sex scene, but the two just talk about how their lives turned out--Kevin reveals he has a child (but isn't married to the mom) and he also went to prison. This revelation is so casual, as if all black men expect to go to prison in their lives. After being tight-lipped most of the evening, Chiron reveals that Kevin is the only man who ever touched him sexually and that he hasn't been with anyone since. The film ends on this meaningful note.
Ok, I just realized I basically laid out the entire plot. But the plot is simple enough to allow those meaningful moments of everyday life shine through: when Juan teaches Chiron to swim; when Kevin and Chiron kiss on the beach; when Kevin and Chiron reconnect years later. And all the little details that reveal how hard life is when you're a black man--especially a gay black man and especially a poor, gay black man. But life didn't destroy Chiron. As he gets older, he gets more power, through money and physical strength. But on the inside, he's still "Little"--quiet, meek, unsure of himself. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right?
There is so much to praise about Moonlight: the excellent performances (not a single bad one in the entire film), the gorgeous cinematography (I was reminded of Julian Schnabel's Before Night Falls, also a film with dreamy cinematography and also about a gay man of color, poet Reinaldo Arenas), the humanistic attitude toward the world that the film takes where there are no heroes and no bad guys--only people doing what they can despite tough situations.
But I guess what I like most about Moonlight is that it exists, it's in theaters, and people are seeing it. We need stories about black people, gay people, poor people, etc now more than ever. And not The Pursuit of Happiness type movies about the one guy who beat the odds. We need stories about people who didn't beat the odds. We need stories about people who are doing their best and whose lives are valuable even if they aren't minority success stories. The trick to ending racism/sexism/homophobia/etc isn't putting down white, straight people--it's getting those white, straight people to see people who aren't like them as human. That's all there is (well, not really, but it's a start). When you humanize someone, it's hard to see them (and treat them) as fairytale monsters.
I used to walk down the street and feel that stab of fear I was taught to feel when a large, black man passed me by. That's my inheritance as both a woman and a white person--you are told to fear two groups: men and people who look different than you. But during the past couple weeks, I've been feeling differently. I've been thinking that the people I instinctively fear are not the real enemies. It's my own people--white people. Straight people. Middle class people (men are still scary, tbh). Maybe not *me* and maybe not my friends, but people like me. The group I'm part of. We've been sold some lies about who is scary and who is safe in this world. But I'm starting to see those lies for what they are, and I'm starting to see the people who are different from me as the ones I owe something to.
No one is perfect. Everyone is human. Movies like Moonlight show the beauty--and struggle--of being human.
Grade: A
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