If Beale Street Could Talk

The couple walks along. They’re completely in love. “Are you ready for this?”, asks Fonny (Stephan James). “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my whole life”, replies Tish (newcomer KiKi Layne).

Welcome to a movie that is at once one of the most romantic of the year – out just in time for Valentine’s Day – and a gritty indictment of the way black people are treated in the USA. Which sounds a pretty unlikely mix, but then Barry Jenkins is hardly an average director. His Best Picture Oscar winning Moonlight (2016) proved this for this writer by having one character at three different ages played by three actors and making that potentially disastrous proposition work so brilliantly on the screen.

If Beale Street Could Talk‘s source material is a 1974 novel set in Harlem by US writer James Baldwin (1924-1987) who explored the black experience in some considerable depth and is the subject of highly recommended documentary I Am Not Your Negro (Raoul Peck, 2017). The novel is Baldwin‘s response to the incarceration of black people for crimes they have not committed by a system, as he sees it, designed to keep them in their place through systematic abuse and mistreatment. Baldwin has a gift for writing about people, what makes them tick, their good and bad qualities.

The film’s romantic opening soon gives way to something else: Tish visits Fonny, in prison for a crime he did not commit, to tell him she’s going to have his baby. The only way they can communicate is through a glass partition. They’ve been friends since childhood and are now partners as adults. But they’re not married and she’s got to tell her and his parents about the baby. And the family have to find a way to get him out of prison.

The narrative is a clever exercise in parallel editing. One strand shows Tish and Fonny’s life together, growing into love, finding an apartment, his being picked on by a racist cop (Ed Skrein). The other shows Tish’s story following Fonny’s incarceration, her telling both their families about the baby, the ongoing life process of pregnancy, birth and raising a son, fighting for her partner’s release with her mother’s help.

The two leads are terrific. KiKi Layne is a real find, capturing a mixture of innocence and fragility on the one hand and a perseverance and strength on the other. The latter is something Tish gets from her parents, especially her mother Sharon (Regina King) who at one point has to fly to Puerto Rico to persuade gone to earth witness Victoria Rogers (Emily Rios) to testify that Fonny wasn’t the man who raped her.

Although he gets less screen time, Stephan James as Fonny is good too whether showing Fonny’s essential optimism in his life in the outside world or his attempt to hold himself together as prison life threatens to make him fall apart, the latter experience only really seen from Tish’s side of the glass partition when she visits him. (There is no attempt to otherwise show Fonny’s prison life beyond such visitation scenes, no way the film might be described as a prison movie).

In addition there are numerous impressive bit parts – the film is surely destined to become a future Who’s Who of Black US acting talent – and other aspects of the production do it proud too. The sequence where first Tish’s family then Fonny’s react to the news of her pregnancy deserves a special mention, there being much to say about the way Tish’s family, despite being oppressed by a system rigged against their race, practise life-affirming values in marked contrast to Fonny’s family where father is driven to rage by feelings of powerlessness while mother and daughters use legalistic Biblical language to lord it over the “sinful” Tish.

Special mentions should go to James Laxton’s cinematography for juxtaposing the lush, vivid palette of a seventies Harlem romance against the harsh, brutal colours of an oppressive prison environment (exactly the qualities that seemed to be absent from the cinematography of that other recent, period New York movie Can You Ever Forgive Me?) and an achingly beautiful score by Nicholas Britell. That said, this is one of those movies where all the technical people and their departments, those unsung, behind the scenes heroes of movie-making, each more than pull their individual weight to contribute to a whole that adds up to far, far more than the (considerable) sum of its parts.

This remarkable film consolidates Barry Jenkins’ achievement in Moonlight and deserves to be even more widely seen, not only because it so beautifully articulates the black experience in the racist society that is the USA but also because it’s so well put together in terms of all aspects of movie-making craft. The cast, main and bit parts, are to die for and it’s a great introduction to the writings of James Baldwin to boot. See it.

If Beale Street Could Talk is out in the UK on Friday, February 8th. On VoD on Friday, June 21st.

I am not your Negro

That inconvenient nigger is here to wreak havoc to your shady American freedom – I am not your Negro is a very provocative piece that uses incendiary language in order to inflame a deeply unequal, biased, hypocritical and racist society: the United States of America. The film will burst every myth of racial equality and democracy in the most powerful country in the world, and it’s an indispensable watch to all nationalities, races and creeds. Needless to say, the movie has acquired an extra dimension and significance since the toxic wave of reactionary politics brought in by Donald Trump swallowed the nation.

This documentary film by Raoul Peck is based on James Baldwin’s (pictured above) unfinished manuscript Remember This House and narrated by actor Samuel L. Jackson. It explores the history of racism in the US through Baldwin’s memories of civil rights leaders Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr, as well as their tragic and untimely death.

By the means of historical interviews, footage and photographs, Peck creates a poignant portrait of racism in the US, revealing that equality has always been but an illusion. He also uses excerpts from historical movies with racist content such as Uncle Tom’s Boat (Harry A. Pollard, 1927) and Stagecoach (John Ford, 1939) as well as films that deal with the subject of racism, such as Imitation of Life (John M. Stahl, 1934) and The Defiant Ones (Stanley Kramer, 1958). Many activists disliked the latter for its complacent tone: Sidney Poitier’s character reconciles with his white nemesis despite the oppression he suffered. Incidentally, the legendary black actor turned 90 yesterday.

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It’s that black and white: the US are a racist nation!

But it’s the clever montage that makes I am not your Negro so provocative and explosive. The director cleverly contrasts a 1960 US government advert promoting “freedom” against images of police oppression made at the same time. If the film was made now, Peck would probably contrast Donald Trump’s ridiculous America First speech – which the entire world has been mocking – against the Ferguson riots. In another key moment, the director boldly claims that “America is not the land of the free, but it’s sometimes the land of the brave”, followed by images from Gus Van Sant’s Elephant (2003). In other words, America’s braveness expresses itself through a school massacre. Finally, he places images of a jolly Doris Day prancing around against Black people hung in trees – the significance of this montage does not require a written description.

James Baldwin’s vigour and intelligence help to sustain what’s already a very convincing piece of documentary-making. The unapologetic, unabashed and confrontational demeanour of late American novelist, essayist, playwright, poet, and social critic is a leitmotif in the film, as well as in the history of the US. He has no qualms at challenging the establishment, and the director supports him in his courageous endeavour. Quotes and titles appear throughout the movie on a black and white screen, with a twist of red. It’s almost as if both the writer and the filmmaker were saying: “yes, it’s that black and white: the US is a racist society. Now move your ass and do something about it“.

I am not your Negro was directed by Haitian filmmaker Raoul Peck, and the nationality of the director here is very significant. Haiti saw the most successful anti-slavery and anti-colonial insurrection in the Americas, shortly after American Independence. The event shocked the US, which responded with continuous repression and boycotting of the newly-formed democracy. This theme is not addressed in the movie, but the irony of history is pervasive to those who know the origin of the filmmaker and a little bit about Haiti’s history.

This piece was originally published during the Human Rights Watch Film Festival, when the film premiered in the UK. It is out in cinemas on Friday, April 7th (2017), and it’s out on all major VoD platforms in April 2018.