By Hannah Rogers
I wasn’t ready for this movie. Entering the theatre, I had no idea what I would soon be taking on; and before I knew it, I was a foreigner thrust into a subculture of which I knew very little. Moonlight is a movie so exquisitely emotional that I found it difficult to get a grasp. Leaving the theatre I found myself ranting incessantly about how no real-life experience is ever capable of being as beautiful and intense as the movies.
The storyline is fragmented; divided into three episodic segments where in each, Chiron, the main character, ages about ten years. It would be inadequate to characterize Moonlight as a movie about urban living and young violence in Miami because there is a huge elemental shift to the movie that can’t be anticipated. It would also be lacking to say that it’s a twist on Black Lives Matter or cliches of masculinity. That being said, I am still not completely sure what this movie is about, even after the fact.
What I can say is, the water rolling on dark sand, the held hands and smoke sweeping off lips is a beautiful depiction of young love. There is minimalist scenery, but always an intense sense of place. Chiron is quiet, withdrawn, and keeps you at an arm’s length, but he encourages introspection and longs for empathy. It is an artistic flow of words written in color, culture, music and expression. Moonlight is painfully poetic; a simplistic, truly breathtaking portrayal of human existence.