Moonlight

Moonlight is a triptych of black, Miami-born Chiron’s ascent to manhood. He begins as Little, a tiny and skinny boy whose mother has begun taking hard drugs with her new boyfriend. At school Chiron is bullied, and when running from his tormentors he is picked up by Juan and his partner Teresa. Juan hangs out with Chiron and teaches him to swim. In the second section he is in high school; he has his first sexual experience and his mother is an addict, desperate, asking for money. In the last third, Black, he’s an adult.

Ascetically Moonlight is very rich in texture and colour; the streets of sunny Miami and the seashore at night are entrancing. The cinematographer scrutinizes every detail and the camera is free moving. We never see the moon but it’s always there, in the orbs of shaved heads in profile, and the flashes of neon ovals in scene cuts. It has been promoted as the first black gay film. It is, as it has rightly come to be seen, an antidote to the prevalence of white filmmakers and actors in the industry, a voice to stand alongside Linklater’s Boyhood. Where it really succeeds is as an exploration of masculinity. The mixing and matching of father figures and the viscous circles that these men eventually get pulled into. How chains of events can lead to a teenager living on the streets to a stretch in prison; drug dealing is an easy career move and sometimes the only option. Black it surely is, and such an unflinching depiction of drug culture and homosexuality in the face of prejudice is refreshing and good for all.