Moonlight contains the most powerful scene of 2016. I can’t even think of a close second. And it’s quiet. There’s no explosion, no drawn weapon, no death, just two simple questions and no answer. The scene is the very end of Act I: 7-year-old Little (Alex R. Hibbert) is at the dinner table of Teresa (Janelle Monáe) and drug dealer Juan (Mahershala Ali), a man who has taken a shine to the happiness-challenged youth. Neither adult is related to the child. Little is the product of a crack-whore single mother (Naomie Harris). He’s shy and fearful, but has found a refuge in this home. His general range of knowledge is limited to the school work he doesn’t do and the numerous bullies he avoids. But Juan has encouraged him to grow and use his voice. And Little has learned a few things about the world. At Juan’s dinner table tonight, Little sheepishly asks, “Is my momma on drugs?” and follows the affirmative nod with, “do you sell drugs?”
And this is what power and control in movie-making looks like; it doesn’t necessarily take sex, violence or gimmickry, it simply takes the ability to convey something that audience will talk about. And if you’ve seen Moonlight, you will talk about this scene.
Moonlight is sort of a poor-man’s Boyhood. That thought may slight Moonlight a little; I found it more powerful than Boyhood, but the idea is similar – a troubled young man seen at different stages in his lifetime: Little, 16-year-old Chiron (Ashton Sanders) and the fully grown but hardly grown-up Black (Trevante Rhodes). At each stage, Moonlight reflects upon the insecurity, friendship and sexuality of Little/Chiron/Black. Each stage, however, is both unique and emotionally charged. As a child, Little is the kid who simply hides from the other kids. Chiron probably has it worst, accepting bullying at school along with a mother who no longer recognizes right from wrong. As an adult, Black is the result of the abusive childhood, his size and experience have left him in control of his world and yet the path he’s taken is depressing – is this the natural product of the abusive childhood or is this a correct reflection of the road Little was bound to travel even were he born to privilege?
I see a movie like Moonlight and I weep for my perpetual punching bag, Tyler Perry. This. This, Tyler. This is what your movies should be like – real character studies of street kids, not dubious morality and quasi-religious buffoonery. There isn’t a black director more powerful (box office-wise, at least) than Tyler Perry, and with the retirement of Uwe Boll, Tyler makes the worst films on Earth. I have no idea who Barry Jenkins is, but I really want to see his next film. Does the popularity of Tyler Perry promote Barry Jenkins or hold him back? I could argue either case, but right now, I wish Tyler would yield the floor to people with real filmmaking talent. We’ve 
found one right here.
This isn’t a film for everybody. With the general theme of growing up, Moonlight, theoretically, has universal appeal, but in reality will probably attract no more than movie critics and a handful of minunderstood outcasts. That’s not entirely unfair – the film isn’t a happy one by any stretch and contains material certain groups will find unacceptable. Fans of film, however? You should see this one.
God help me if I have to write more reviews like today’s. This film didn’t lend itself to humor. The subject matter doesn’t beg to be ridiculed and the film never seemed indulgent or full of itself. As a critic, I kinda hate Moonlight, but as a cinephile, please, please make more, Barry Jenkins, whoever you are.
♪I’m six-point-five for a moment
Caught in abandoned property
And I’m just hoping
The bullies will leave me alone
I’m seventeen for some screentime
The beach feels better than home
Where mom’s on fire
Smokin’ crack and back for more
I’m twenty-five for the third act
Hey I’m a man, you can see I’m of age
Driving back on my way
Parole on my mind
Act I there’s still time for clues
Time to establish the blues
Act I, getting attention of folks one-by-one
When you’ve only got one hundred minutes to run♫
Rated R, 110 Minutes
D: Barry Jenkins
W: Barry Jenkins
Genre: Movies you won’t see
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The misunderstood
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Thugs
♪ Parody inspired by “100 years”
