Review of If Beale Street Could Talk (2018) by Isaacj — 16 Feb 2019

Barry Jenkins’ Oscar-winning coming-of-age film, Moonlight has been heralded by critics and audiences alike as a masterpiece in arthouse filmmaking. Here, he follows up with If Beale Street Could Talk, an adaptation of James Baldwin’s novel that tells the story of young, African-American lovers, Tish (Kiki Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James) against the backdrop of institutional racism. To meet a bar set as high as by Moonlight is quite a feat, but Jenkins is not one to disappoint; If Beale Street Could Talk is a gorgeous film, poetic, visceral and oozing with sensuality. The story flits effortlessly back and forth through time, from graceful interludes of Tish and Fonny’s early relationship to the understatedly gritty present, as a pregnant Tish fights for the release of Fonny, who has been imprisoned on a trumped-up rape charge. Wherever the film is in time, it is decidedly timeless, a love story told with tenderness and a dignity and respect for its characters. The perfectly matched combination of Jenkins’ script and attentive direction immerse us within the film with a totality one rarely feels. There’s a dazed slowness to the narrative, as it lilts from moments of humour to those of beauty and gritty realism with ease.

The performances are equally fantastic, underplayed yet unfailingly believable and effective. Kiki Layne and Stephan James’ leads are terrific, their scenes glowing with intimacy. The film’s real stand out performer, however, is Regina King, playing Kiki’s protective mother with a poised brilliance. What is so rewarding about If Beale Street Could Talk is the myriad of relationships that we see play out on screen, not only between the central lovers, but between sisters, friends, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives. “Love is what brought you here”, says King’s Sharon most wisely; truly, this film can only be described as an evocation of love in all forms, sensuous and naked, yet wonderfully heartfelt.

If Beale Street Could Talk is only made all the more impressive by its design elements, all cleverly judged and executed with a gentle brilliance. James Laxton’s camera swoops woozily between characters, settling slowly on moments of profundity in the acting before sweeping overhead to give us a greater look at Jenkins’ world, painstaking in period detail. What accentuates the film the most, however, is Nicholas Britell’s score, so expressive and moving it seems to become a whole other character in itself. The score sings of the characters so perfectly it is bound to bring one to tears.

Moonlight is a spectacular film (a favourite of mine), and If Beale Street Could Talk echoes of its elegance and immersion, yet with a slower and gentler touch that blooms with true compassion for its characters and story. An important story it is too, trenchant and topical; Jenkins is a marvellous filmmaker whose love for his craft lies evident in his work.