Viewed solo, the individual acts function like gallery installations, exploding specific emotional moments in time outward into a collection of images, sounds, and textures. Without giving up the ghost here, a chance encounter with Kevin (André Holland) at a diner brings back a flood of memories and unrequited feelings, forcing the film's two leads, and the audience, to engage with the scenes they've experienced.Įach act exists as its own isolated snapshot of Chiron's life. The film's final chapter, perhaps its most transcendent, checks back in with Chiron as an adult (Trevante Rhodes) who goes by the name "Black" (Kevin's former nickname for him.) This Chiron seems so far removed from the one we've followed thus far, shrouded in a hardened exoskeleton of performative masculinity that's scabbed over a lifetime of open wounds. The two share an intimacy that feels too good to be true before outside forces bring reality crashing in. The closest thing he's got to a friend is Kevin (Jharrel Jerome), a mischievous horndog who's always seemed to understand Chiron better than others, perhaps even better than himself. Since childhood, people around him have ascribed homosexuality as the root cause of his quirks and it's a label that has followed him. At school, with hormones raging, he's even more adrift with his own sexuality. Any money Theresa gives him ends up in Paula's hands paying for her next fix. He spends a lot of nights staying over at Theresa's when Paula needs the house to herself, typically to get high with strange men. The next chapter finds Chiron (now played by Ashton Sanders) in high school. One of Juan's biggest customers is Chiron's mother Paula (Naomie Harris), whose addiction leaves her son a lost latchkey kid struggling to understand why the other kids call him slurs. He develops a surrogate family relationship with a drug dealer named Juan (Mahershala Ali) and his girlfriend Theresa (Janelle Monáe). In the first, we meet Chiron (Alex Hibbert), an ostracized black youth who goes by the name "Little." His first moments on screen involve him hiding in an abandoned dope house to escape bullying children hurling rocks and homophobic epithets in his direction. Taking place in Miami and covering the early '80s to the present day, "Moonlight" is split between three distinct chapters, each set years apart. In "Moonlight," Jenkins has captured the world finally as it truly is, as it feels, rather than how it has heretofore been presented on screen. There are no white speaking roles to be found anywhere in its two-hour running time, but just like the film's portrayal of masculinity, this isn't intended to be daring, rather, it just is. Much has been made about Barry Jenkins' sophomore directorial effort and its relevance to filmic diversity-"Moonlight" is an island unto itself, presenting blackness as a mere matter of fact, not some bold new act. Before "Moonlight" even begins, Boris Gardiner's "Every Nigger Is A Star" plays over production company logos, immediately telegraphing the uniquely black narrative about to unfold.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |