Ever since its debut at last year’s Telluride Film Festival, Moonlight has been riding a wave of acclaim that shows no sign of abating. Barry Jenkins’ adaptation of Tarell Alvin McCraney’s play In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue is the story of a young black man from a broken home in Miami, following him through his childhood, adolescence and adulthood as he grapples with his sexuality and identity. It’s a film that feels specific in its perspective and its details, but universal in its portrait of loneliness, pain and yearning, and it continues to live in the memory long after the end credits have rolled. Moonlight is a very special film that remarkably manages to live up to the hype, and I met Barry Jenkins last December on the morning after he had attended the British Independent Film Awards, where he received the award for the Best International Independent Film.
Congratulations on yesterday. Both the LA Film Critics and the British Independent Film Awards.
Congratulations on yesterday. Both the LA Film Critics and the British Independent Film Awards.
Yeah, I know. It
happened at the same time too, man. It was amazing.
Was it a good ceremony last night?
Oh yeah. It was a
really good room, and as I said on the stage there are a few British filmmakers that I really admire, Lynne Ramsay chief among them, you
know, Lynne Ramsay and Alan Clarke were the two biggest when I was in
film school. It's kind of wonderful to be in a place where I assume
Lynne has won a BIFA in the past.
Can you comprehend
and digest the reaction that this film has received from everyone so
far?
Now that I'm on so many
planes, you have nothing but time to think and process. I've realised
I'm in a very privileged position. I have friends who have made
really amazing works that not a lot of people see, you know, my
friend Antonio Campos has a film called Christine and it
doesn't have the same buzz that we have, and that's unfortunate. I
wish all these films could have the sort of response and visibility
that Moonlight has had over the past few months. So yeah, I
know it's a really privileged place to be in, and so I'm just trying
to take it bit by bit and not get too damn happy.
So can you identify
what has connected with people that has generated that kind of buzz?
I think because we
didn't try to make the movie for everyone, people really respond to
that. I think we live in a time now where, because of the business
dynamics of what we do, the imperative is to make something that
everyone can love. With this film I was trying to make a movie for an
audience of two, myself and Tarell, because the movie is more or less about the
two of us. I think when you do that, people respect it, you know, it
passes the bullshit test. It's like, oh, this is really interesting and at the very least I'm gonna get something that I didn't expect,
because I don't know these guys and I get to experience what they're
like through this film.
One thing that
intrigues me about Tarell's play is that it was never actually
produced, it was just an unfinished manuscript sitting in his draw.
When I heard that was the case it made sense because I was trying to picture this as a play and
I couldn't really. It's so cinematic, and it relies so much on the power of silence, gestures, close-ups.
I don't think it would
have ever worked on a stage, and I don't think Tarell ever wrote it
intending it to be on a stage. Now I also don't think that the first
version I read would have worked in the format it was on screen. I
always describe it as being halfway between the stage and the screen,
and I always think of the process as kind of being like a relay race;
Tarell got to the first or second leg, you know, and then he passed
it to me and I took it the rest of the way. But it was inherently
visual, even when he first wrote it, and like you my first instinct
was, this is not going to work on the stage, however, there are some
very interesting visuals here. The original piece was like 47 pages,
so there was a lot of space within it, and there was a lot of room
for me to extend and create. I always knew that I wanted to make a
film that would live on faces and physical gestures, and it was
wonderful to have his language to connect those very silent beats.
The one thing I had
assumed was a legacy of the stage was the three-act structure, but I
understand you actually brought that to it in your adaptation.
I did. Tarell wrote
this in 2003, the first version of it, so he was a very young man and I'm sure if he wrote it again today it would be quite different.
He called it a circular narrative - you'd see Little wake up and go
to school, you'd see Chiron wake up and go to school, you'd see Black
wake up and go to the corner. Then you'd see Little at school, Chiron
at school, Black at the corner. It just kept going through this one
day, always resetting, and I thought, this is going to be very
difficult for an audience to follow. I don't see how they're going to
really connect and grab on to what the characters are experiencing,
because every five minutes they have to reset. It would be better to
get a whole run of each character and then reset. I had seen this
Hou-Hsiao Hsien film called Three Times and I thought it
really worked in that piece, so I thought that's what we'll do. It is
funny, I never thought of it as a three-act structure, but you're
right, it's old-school dramaturgy for sure.
That structure has a
real benefit though, because it's a striking moment when Black
appears in the third section. The last time we saw this character he
was a scared, skinny teenager getting beaten up, and now he's this
huge, imposing figure. You're trusting the audience a lot there to go
with you because you don't give us much context for his development and what has happened in the intervening years.
Yeah, it's funny. I
don't often try to anticipate how the audience is reading the film,
but I think that act two to act three structure is a moment when we
really are in tune with how the audience is receiving the character.
At that point, it's been 60 minutes, you're prepped, now you know a
different actor is coming, and act two ends on such a cliffhanger,
which is weird for this film. I felt like the audience would know,
okay, I have to keep watching, this is very different and very
jarring. This beautiful thing happened where, it wasn't scripted that
you would see Naomi at the top of story three, as a flashback to that
moment in the hallway in story one, but we're giving them this one
little thing - we've gone from two, to three, then here's this thing
from story one, and then he wakes up from the nightmare. And then at
that point, we've done this thing where the audience is hopefully
used to the preamble. It's almost like a literary device, you get a
moment with the character before we officially state their name.
You're right, it was trusting the audience, but I had the same
experience in casting Trevante Rhodes, who came in to read for the
other character, Kevin. I was like, this dude has too many muscles
and is too damn built, there's no way he's going to work as Kevin,
but out of respect I let him keep auditioning. Then this thing
happened where I realised I had judged him because of how he looked,
and I had decided that he couldn't channel the vulnerability and
sensitivity that I thought the character needed, but he was
auditioning and I was like, oh shit, there's the sensitivity and
vulnerability. I thought that if the audience can have the same
experience I just had at this five-minute audition, it would work, so
we cast him and that was it.
His appearance does
encapsulate so much about the film's exploration of masculinity.
It's masculinity run
amok and the aggression of the world projecting a certain accepted
image of masculinity, I think Trevante embodied that fully, just in
his physical presence. And then as a performer he's so good, the
subtext and all these things buried underneath, you can slowly bring
those things to the surface, which is who he truly is. Yeah, it was
one of the choices that was the most jarring. I even remember being
on set with Trevante, his first two days of work, where he was by
himself for his first two days - he's working out, walking around in
his boxers, sitting on the bed - and all the women on the film are
gathered around video village, watching this very ripped guy. I was
like, fuck, this feels so different from working with Ashton [Sanders], you
know? Did we make a mistake? But then we filmed his side of the phone
call, when André Holland calls, and I was like, oh, that's where it
is. We're good to go.
There's also this
very moving sense that he has recreated himself in the image of
Mahershala Ali's character, the only positive male figure he has
experienced in his life.
Exactly, but that male
figure isn't there to constantly guide him. This is why parents are
parents, you know? You tell your kid to do something right, they're
going to make a mistake, then you have to be there to make an
adjustment. "Oh, I know you tried, now try it this way." He
doesn't have that presence to go, “Don't do it that way, do it this
way,” so I think he's performing again what he thinks Juan did for
him. There's that great scene where the guy is counting the money,
and he's trying to be this presence the way Juan was, but all he's
doing is scaring the shit out of this kid, you know? Because Juan
isn't there, I think he's taken the worst aspects and applied those
as a performance.
So this is probably
something you've been asked about a thousand times, but I have to
talk to you about the casting process. I think it's astonishing the
way these three very different actors create this sense of a whole
person. I can't recall seeing anything quite like this before.
It's magic. [Laughs]
I guess a magician
never reveals his secrets.
Well, magic and a great
casting director. I always say magic, because we didn't allow them to
rehearse and we didn't allow them to meet, because I didn't want them
to mimic one another. We ended up in a place where they were
organically feeling the same thing, because it is the same character,
just becoming a different person. There's this idea that no matter
what version of Chiron you're watching, and no matter what version
the character is performing for the outside world, internally he's
still the same person. I think the audience buys into that
intellectual conceit. The one thing I did do, is that I gave all the
actors the full script, so they knew what came before and what was
going to come after. I think they could emotionally process all of
that stuff, especially Trevante because of the two guys that came
before him. And yet, I think they're all kind of doing their own
thing, it just ends up in the same place. I've said this a lot, but
we were casting them based on this feeling in their eyes, and that's
why the poster works, because they all have the same deep
vulnerability in their eyes.
And there are a
number of simple but effective tricks that you can use to help tie
these performances together, the way you use certain shots or angles
repeatedly in each story.
That was all worked out
at the shot design process. Myself and the cinematographer had a shot
list. We don't storyboard but we did say that there were two or three
shots that we had to get to help connect that we were following the
same character from the same perspective. A lot of it is the
behind-the-back shots, then we do these spinning shots above, and
then the direct address to camera.
It works
brilliantly, and I think that final scene is not going to possess the
impact that it does if we can't actually see the child inside the
adult Chiron.
You're right, it
doesn't work if you can't look in his eyes and see Ashton and see
Alex.
It all goes back to
that scene on the beach, and I felt the film expresses that sense of
how you sometimes think of something that happened as a teenager and
you get this flush of shame and regret, even though it's long gone.
Bro, you're telling me.
[Laughs]
That's what that
beach scene feels like. Kevin can get up and walk away from this
intimate moment, but Chiron seems to be locked inside it and is
constantly replaying that moment in his mind.
Exactly. I think when
he smashes that chair, it locks him in there, in a very big way. What
I love about that scene is, it's not about Terrel, it's about Kevin.
That's why the last look in that scene is not between Chiron and
Terrel, it's between Chiron and Kevin.
That scene on the
beach is such a pivotal and momentous moment in the narrative, and
yet you're capturing a very quiet and intimate and deeply felt
interaction. How do you go about constructing a sequence like that?
Ah man, that scene
was...that was definitely the most pressure-filled moment on set.
Part of it was just that we were a very small crew, this was a very
small film, and that night was our biggest production footprint. I
mean, we had a light rig that was about the size of this ceiling
hoisted up about thirty feet above a beach, you know, with this wind
just rocking it, so it was madness. And yet, this is the most
intimate moment, other than the kitchen scene, in the whole damn
film. I haven't directed in a while, these kids have never done a sex
scene, we're all just green, you know? I knew the main currency of
this scene was going to be tenderness, you had to believe that this
was a very tender and genuinely intimate moment, that Kevin was not
preying on Chiron, but that he was creating a very safe space for
this kid's sexual intimacy. So it was difficult and yet it wasn't
difficult. I always try to make everything on set have the same level
of importance, so a character placing a pot on the stove in the
kitchen scene is just as big as two guys making out on the beach. I
approach it the same way and I think the actors respond to that. It's
one of those things where when most of the technical aspects of it
were done - I keep pointing to this ceiling, because that's literally
what it was. There was this huge rig right above us, there's a photo
of it on Instagram - once that was all set, then it was like when
you're at a wedding, when the couple goes out to dance and everybody
clears off. It was like that.
It was really beautiful
because myself, Jharrel [Jerome], Ashton and the DP James Laxton, it was just
the four of us underneath this thing, and we just took stock of what
the elements around us were. There's this moonlight, there's this
sand, you know, and we started working with their hands because it
felt like their hands was the thing that was going to carry the
currency. In each chapter the characters meet and they do this
[clasps hands], they do it in the first story, the second story and
the third story, so it felt like there was something in the hands,
because that stuff is not scripted. We shot the scene, and I remember
thinking, it hasn't gone quite far enough. So I whispered to Ashton,
I think you should apologise, and that's when he says, "I'm
sorry," and Jharrel says, "What have you got to be sorry
for?" Again, it felt like there was some level of that character
that would process the moment shamefully, because I think this is a
character who feels he is undeserving of love and undeserving of
physical intimacy, so when he has this moment he apologises for it.
And I wanted Kevin to be creating a safe space with, "What have
you got to be sorry for?" Those two lines aren't in the script,
but in building the scene and trying to make it feel comfortable and
organic, that felt like the natural conclusion of the moment
emotionally for the character.
You mentioned that
you haven't directed a feature for a long time. Does Medicine for
Melancholy feel like the work of a different filmmaker?
Nah, same filmmaker,
different circumstances, different resources. I do think I'm a
different person. I think I'm definitely more mature. I could make
Medicine today, I could not have made Moonlight eight
years ago. So I think there has been, not an evolution but I think I
have evolved and matured in certain ways, less aesthetically and more
emotionally.
You've been working
a lot in the commercial sector in the intervening eight years.
Commercials, short
films, branded content. I think it was good because Medicine
was a crew of five people, this was a crew of, I don't know, average
35 to 40 people? But doing commercials I'd have a crew that's even
larger than that. I think just being on set and utilising the tools
makes you faster, for sure, and I'm very fast on a film set, I pride
myself on that. But also, it was good to keep working. The other
thing that happened was, so many of my friends were making amazing
work, and we were all still friends. I was watching their work and
supporting their work, and it kept me going, it gave me energy. You
know, I've been spending all this time with Damien [Chazelle] on the
festival circuit, and Pablo Larrain, and those guys are animals,
they've made so many films in the last three years. I've only made
this one in the last eight years. Shit like that inspires me, man.
You did have some
other features that you were trying to get off the ground, right?
Yeah, yeah...but you
know what? They weren't personal enough. I'm not saying that every
movie you do has to be as personal as this one has been, but I do
think, to circle back to the beginning of our conversation, that
people are responding to this film the way they are because it's
clearly so personal, they respect that. The things I was working on
before, I probably didn't care about as much as I cared about this
one, so I've got to be very good about finding things that I can
genuinely care about.
Are they things
you'd consider going back to or are you going to move in a different
direction?
I'm considering both of
them. I think applying the filmmaker I am now, the person I am now,
to those projects might yield better fruit.
What's great about
the success of this film is that you hear so often that certain films
are challenging to market, and that any black film or any gay film is
a risky proposition that immediately limits itself to a niche
audience. Moonlight has confounded whatever expectations people might
have had for it.
Plan B and A24 were
great. They did not tell us to make a marketable film, they said go
and make a film that's true to you and Tarrel, and bring it back to
us and we will figure out where the market is for that movie.
Apparently, so far so good, the market is just putting it in a place
where people are seeking cinema. Don't worry about where they come
from, they're going to the auditorium, they'll come to you.
What was Terrell's
reaction when he first saw the film?
[Laughs] Oh, I'll never
forget it. I showed it to him at a private screening room. The movie
ended, and he got up [Barry gets out of his chair and sits on the
floor], he sat on the floor, and he stared at his feet for like
twenty minutes. It was him, myself and André Holland, because him
and André go way back, and he said, "I don't know how many
times I can watch that, because you've brought to life some things I
haven't been able to think about for so long. [Returns to his
chair] Thankfully great things continue to happen, but at that
point I was like, alright, I'm good.
So do you know when
you'll be finished with Moonlight and start thinking of the
next project? You've been on a long road with this film by this
stage.
It has been a long
road. I will say, though, I was hanging with Kenneth Lonergan the
other day and Manchester started at Sundance, so talk about a
long road, you know? Theoretically, this keeps going the way it's
going. We open here in February, we open in France in like January,
and I just want people to see the film. The best thing about winning
the BIFA last night was thinking, holy shit, we're a long way from
Miami, I mean a long way away. And yet, people are still
seeing themselves in the film. I want to go to Turkmenistan to see if
people can see themselves in the film there. No matter what community
you go to, there are people who feel ostracised or othered, and they
rarely see narratives about ostracised or other characters, where
those characters have their full humanity on display and intact, so I
think it's in some ways important to take the film as far as it can
go. I'm not speaking of awards and things like that, but physically
to just get the movie to as many people as possible.