Locked-down in isolation but technically free, young Little (Alex Hibbert/Ashton Sanders/Trevante Rhodes) moves between drug abusing mother (Naomie Harris) and violently dismissive classmates as gracefully as he can, finding refuge with a childless local dealer (Mahershala Ali as Juan) whose guilty conscience and ironical good nature suggest he accommodate the boy.
An oasis helplessly haunted, Little still attends school, and the bullies still bully as he ages, as he grows, as he matures.
One way to stop bullying is to fight back but they travel in packs in Barry Jenkins's Moonlight.
Cowardice.
Little (now Chiron) does bash the most vicious of them in one day with a chair after which the police take him away, suffer in silence or respond and go to prison, not much of a childhood for the peaceful gay fatherless African American kid.
Moonlight is a sad film, a resilient film, a crucial film, a sophisticated film.
A simple story on the surface which fluently presents coy critiques of cultural codes without recourse to sentiment while patiently blending in focus, asking why is difference so frightening?, why do so many instinctively suppress it?
Difference spices things up to add alternative flavours which merge and diverge with eye-opening wonder.
Adventure.
It's as simple as bread.
Different types of bread.
White bread tastes good but one day you might try brown, then rye, then pumpernickel, then multigrain.
Then you have 5 options rather than one for making a sandwich, and can experiment to find out what tastes best, for you, on each different type.
If you have to prove you're tough by forming a group to violently suppress another or an individual, you aren't tough, you're pathetic.
If you're afraid of difference ask yourself why?, and try something new, something startling, like blue cheese or a strawberry shake.
Overcoming fears is what Men and Women do.
Took me a while to start loving olives and hot peppers.
Now I eat them all the time.
A lot of the gay people I've met are chill with a great sense of humour.
It makes for good conversation.
Not many films make as serious an impact as Moonlight while just simply presenting a story.
It's profoundly chill considering the tale it's telling.
The highs and lows.
The emptiness.
Crack ruins communities, ruins lives, makes a sewer of superlatives, which otherwise may thrive.
There's no simple solution.
Besides giving up crack.
And refusing to sell it.
If that's the economy something's seriously wrong.
It does not have to be that way.
And takes courage to turn things around.
Bravery.
Dedication.
Understanding.
Will.
In the great wide open.
Moonlight states this without saying a word.
Blessed.
No comments:
Post a Comment