By Christoph Russi ’17

Writer and director Barry Jenkins’ “Moonlight” is quiet, delicate and slow. It’s emotionally heavy, yes, but in no way is the film some sort of intense, dramatic insight into poverty, race and masculine struggles. It’s not flashy and it’s not filled with tears or suspense. It wasn’t what I personally expected it to be, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a thought-provoking and interesting film. But audiences might not enjoy it or feel the impact of it unless they’re willing to watch a character study that really takes its time, has little to no score and features three separate but intertwined story arcs.

This rigid three-act feature follows the life of a young gay black man named Chiron as a young child (Alex Hibbert), a teenager (Ashton Sanders), and finally a fully-grown adult (Trevante Rhodes). Throughout the story, Chiron deals with the struggles of having a single mother addicted to hardcore drugs, the fear of being ridiculed and beaten by his classmates due to his sexuality and the challenge of finding his identity without a strong parental figure to guide him. “Moonlight” touches on some experiences that many people haven’t faced, but it manages to put the viewer in Chiron’s shoes and allows audiences to walk around in them for a little while.

It’s a very meditative movie. Color and contrast is used to give each chapter its own distinct look, managing to cast a poetic sheen on the raw and crude urban landscape of Miami’s impoverished districts. Many scenes are very quiet, and music is used sparingly to create a sense of importance whenever the slightest melody is heard. The circumstances of the character — poverty, race, sexuality, identity and masculinity — develop organically underneath the surface, as they would in one’s own life. By not being overt with these aspects of the story, “Moonlight” proves that it’s not only worthy of recognition for featuring a less explored character archetype but for being well-written and provocative.

Barry Jenkins poses some very difficult questions. Where does our identity come from? Are we the product of our environment? Can we rise above the obstacles of our youth? Some of these, “Moonlight” tries to answer, and some are left up to interpretation. Chiron’s struggle may not be yours or mine, but his story rubs against the jagged edges of our identities in a way that is impossible to ignore.