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Beale Street's Talking, Are We Listening?


James Baldwins’ If Beale Street Could Talk is one of the seminal works of African-American literature. And yet I must admit I’d never heard of it until it was announced it was being made into a movie courtesy of Barry Jenkins, the writer and director of the Oscar winning Moonlight. It’s the kind of story you’d expect to be taught in schools alongside such luminaries as The Great Gatsby and To Kill a Mockingbird. But of course both the U.S. and Canada have a general problem teaching non-white literature in schools, and hopefully the existence of this film might change that.
Jenkins has pretty quickly set himself up as one of the great filmmakers of the 2010s. Not only is he keenly aware of and compelled by important social and racial issues, he addresses them in artistically fulfilling, emotionally resonant, and aesthetically beautiful ways unlike any other. As such Moonlight was the best coming-of-age film of 2016, and If Beale Street Could Talk is by far 2018’s greatest romance.
Set in Harlem in the early 1970s the film tells the story of childhood sweethearts Clementine “Tish” Rivers (KiKi Layne) and Alonzo “Fonny” Hunt (Stephan James). Interspersed with flashbacks of the couples’ relationship, the story follows Tish’s pregnancy and simultaneously the legal battle her family goes through to prove Fonny’s innocence after he’s falsely arrested for rape.
Jenkins’ passion for both this story and James Baldwin himself is palpable. The film opens with an inscription directly from the book and throughout it no doubt uses plenty of dialogue verbatim. The script is remarkably well-written and I’m not sure if Baldwin or Jenkins deserves more credit for that. One thing that Jenkins certainly can take credit for is the skill with which the tone is set and the atmosphere is conveyed. It goes beyond merely immersing you in 1970s Harlem, it’s a perfect microcosm of a pervading oppressive society –one that’s adapting from overt discrimination and open racism to more insidious methods. Such as the scene where a cop (Ed Skrein) is clearly looking for a reason to arrest Fonny after an altercation at a grocers, or when Tish, who works in a perfume department, recalls how black men when receiving a sample will have her spray their hand, while white men will insist she spray her own (and then proceed to sniff it for an inappropriately long time).
Yet the movie consists of more than simply these discretions, and though a lot of the story is given over to the unjust situation of Fonny and other such systemic malfeasances (the trauma Fonny’s friend Daniel, played wonderfully by an ever exceptional Brian Tyree Henry, carries from prison is an especially notable example), it doesn’t lose track of the fact it’s a love story –and a very sweet one. Fonny and Tish are a cute and romantic couple, their long history is well established, and like in Moonlight, Jenkins lets the quiet moments speak for themselves –quiet that is, except for Nicholas Brittel’s beautiful music, a soft jazz love letter to that place and time and these people. Certain memories are shot in a radiant ambience that evokes a dream-like state, while their lush colours and vivid mise en scene characterize the rest of the movie. Jenkins’, cinematographer James Laxton’s and production designer Mark Frieberg’s work on this movie is gorgeous, it’s palette of sharp golds and greens and browns giving it the same unique crispness the blues and purples gave Moonlight.
As the lovers at the heart of the story, KiKi Layne and Stephan James are terrific. Layne especially carries so much of the films’ drama on her shoulders and the tremendous arc of a character both asserting her independence and emotionally dependent on a man imprisoned. Tish is a very introverted person too, which Layne uses as a conduit for greater subdued expression. And the Canadian James is just effortlessly charming. Creating a portrait of poor African-American family life in that age are Teyonah Parris, Colman Domingo, and Regina King, each of whom is rounded in natural personality and heart. King especially, who’s granted her own subplot late in the film, stands out for her determined sense of justice and nurturing acceptance. Michael Beach and Aunjanue Ellis play Fonny’s quarrelling parents, each less of a stereotype than they’d initially seem, while Finn Wittrock is the well-meaning lawyer. Additionally there are a trio of cameo roles from Diego Luna, Dave Franco, and Pedro Pascal.
If Beale Street Could Talk plays like a quiet, romantic jazz elegy, gracefully moving from one beat to the next, maintaining its humility and simplicity but not at the expense of its message. It is a mystifying love story and an austere social critique, both of which are presented as equally significant -which is something I don’t think James Baldwin would have any objection to.

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