Barry Jenkin's go-to composer Nicholas Britell produces a state-of-the art soundtrack that will teleport yourself to your first kiss - it's a near-as-you-can-get-to-perfect-film
OH my goodness, this is something else.
Barry Jenkins - who you’ll remember as the director of the incredible Oscar-winning Moonlight - has taken James Baldwin’s classic 70s novel and turned it into the closest visual representation of young love you’re likely to see.
Tish and Fonny have known each other all their life. She is 19, he isn’t much older.
It’s 1970’s Harlem and life is pretty tough for a young, black couple saving for their bottom drawer.
Fonny is falsely accused of rape by a police officer with a grudge and despite having two alibis, is sent down anyway. Not long after, Tish discovers she is pregnant with their child and, with the support of her family, decides to have the baby whilst attempting to persuade the courts to see reason.
Jenkins has brought with him all the gang that made Moonlight so special - so the colouring is deep and rich. He and his Director of Photography rebuilt their cameras, traditionally made to highlight white skin, for a predominantly black cast - and it really shows.
The people, the clothes, the buildings - all look edible. Nicholas Britell, Jenkins’ go-to composer returns as well, and delivers what to me is easily the best, most prepossessing score I’ve heard in an age. Find it, stick your headphones in and think of your first kiss.
However Jenkins himself has left a mountain to climb.
Adapting such a stylised book, thick with couplets and with the cast seemingly reading poetry, this could have gone too far - and there are possibly one or two times it draws you from the realness of the situation at hand - it sometimes leaps from the sublime to the downright foul-mouthed sass - a standoff between the two families makes an EastEnders Christmas lunch look like tea with a vicar - but I think that’s intentional.
When Tish and Fonny are alone, we’re elevated to the same plains they’re on. The leads, largely unknown, are incredibly engaging. We’re with them every step of the way, willing them to succeed.
Of the supporting cast, you’re stretched to pick one out in particular although Ed Skrein as the thoroughly hateful Officer Bell really stands out for the few seconds he’s on screen.
Regina King, playing Tish’s mum, gives a moving performance as someone trying their best to hold the whole thing together.
Whilst the film concentrates on the burgeoning and developing relationship between the couple, the precipitous parallel to modern day issues is always a breath away.
Whether it’s the inherent racism within authority, the additional layers of emotional Kevlar black people put on every day that white people have no need to wear or even think about - or even a justice system that simply needs someone to blame, regardless of who.
Forty-four years ago or just last week, it’s the same old song. But this doesn’t come across as angry film - more... resigned. Which makes it a far sadder reality.
I defy anyone not to watch this and demand to love and be loved.
Most of our paths will be far smoother than we see here - but the sentiment Barry Jenkins sculpts out of thin air remains. It can conquer all. A near-as-you-can-get-to-perfect film.
