Skip to main content

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.

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jordan_D_Bosch

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Strange History of the American Spoof Movie

Parody movies have been around for a lot longer than we tend to think of them. Even from the earliest days of Hollywood there were movies meant to satirize a particular subject or genre. In the silent era, Buster Keaton was responsible for a few. And in the early sound era, almost as soon as the monster pictures took off did you see comic versions of them -Abbott and Costello hosting a few. But parody movies tended to be subtle for most of cinema history, or parody came in conjunction with another goal of the comedy. It really wasn’t until the 1980s and 90s that it took off and became popularly understood. And there is perhaps a line to be drawn to the counterculture comedy explosion that began in the 1970s through avenues like  Saturday Night Live , which frequently parodied from even its earliest years popular movies and cultural properties of the time. But that is still a way’s back. To my generation though, ‘parody movie’ is perhaps a less known term than the more blunt ‘s...

A Stylish and Charmingly Reinvented David Copperfield

The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery (Which He Never Meant to Publish on Any Account)  is the most important book Charles Dickens ever wrote. It is not the most famous or influential by any means (that would of course be A Christmas Carol ), but it is the book that is the purest expression of the authors’ style, identity, and worldview. It is his most personal work, semi-autobiographical in its story of the chronology from infancy to adulthood of a character who overcomes great loss and hardships to find a fulfilling life as a writer. To read David Copperfield  is to understand Dickens himself. Armando Iannucci knew this when he decided to make a new adaptation of the novel for a twenty-first century audience. He also knew that Dickens adaptations are ubiquitous at this point. Films are a bit rarer, but every few years a new television adaptation rears its head to keep the authors’ unique world an...

Notes on the Title Cards of The Lord of the Rings

It might be sacrilege for one who both considers The Lord of the Rings  trilogy to be one of the greatest triumphs of cinema and has been an avid lover of the films since adolescence, to declare that the original theatrical cuts of the films are better than the much beloved extended editions. Easily it’s my most controversial opinion regarding these movies. Don’t get me wrong, I do like the extended editions quite a lot, especially as someone who just enjoys spending time in that universe. They flesh it out more, add extra flavour, and in increasing the length by about an hour really emphasize the epic quality of these films. But I find that the original cuts are generally more cleanly paced, more seamlessly edited, and much more accessible to audiences. All the stuff there is to love about The Lord of the Rings  is there in the original versions, the plethora of new and extended scenes merely add to that for fans. And of those, they fall into three camps for me: 1....