“In moonlight black boys look blue.”
Moonlight, a film directed by Berry Jenkins and starring Mahershala Ali, Janelle Monae, and Ashton Sanders (just to name a few) is a story of tender humanity. The plot follows the life of Chiron, a black boy growing up in the projects of Florida, struggling with his sexuality, who he is as a person and how exactly he fits into the world he was born into. It encapsulates his entire life and spirit wholesomely.
I was lucky enough to attend the screening at the Savannah Film Festival and was left with mascara stained cheeks and a heart that hurt for each of the characters. Moonlight was particularly beautiful in the way it quietly transcended boundaries of race and masculinity we as an audience and a culture have become familiar with. After the film, Mahershala Ali spoke about what it meant to break the confines and expectation as a black man: “The first way that a notion becomes acceptable” he said “is to put it out there– to make people look at it so that they can examine it, break it down, throw it out and then put it all back together in a way that makes sense to them”. Ashton Sanders added to this, saying that “This is real life, these are real stories”. This response came after a question from the audience regarding the fact that the protagonist Chiron was gay.
Every preconceived notion about race, sex, and poverty fell away as the minutes passed and the film rolled. Moonlight was quiet, patient, blue. Cinematically, it was shot slowly, steadily. Profound minutes would pass silently, therefore “allowing the audience to place their own thoughts within the character’s’ air and breath” according to Ali. It was such an honest, stark portrayal of a boy (and eventually a man) coming to terms with himself. Everyone can relate to that deep rooted sensation of not being quite right, of struggling against circumstance and oneself in an attempt to survive–in whatever environment you have been thrust into.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a truthful depiction on screen. There was no false pretense or feeling of “I’m at a movie”. No, it was like peeking through a keyhole or going through someone’s medicine cabinet. I felt like a member of Chiron’s life. Art like Moonlight truly has the potential to change the world, to provide a gateway to understanding and unadulterated doses of empathy. I left the theater feeling like my insides had been made outside, exposed for all to see. Moonlight was powerful because it was raw, the characters truthful. It was a slice of humanity undressed and bared for all to see. And you certainly should see it in all of its quiet, soul-shaking glory.