Review: "If Beale Street Could Talk" Finds Power in Compassion

Scene from If Beale Street Could Talk

The world can be an awful place and it is only nature to retaliate with animosity in your heart. However, there's something even more compelling about the films of director Barry Jenkins. As a man of compassion, he has taken to exploring a more tender side of African American culture. It's something that seems revolutionary by virtue of simply depicting a group whose cultural relevance has only been to radical protesters or submissive in a way that is, for a lack of a better word, human. With If Beale Street Could Talk, he adapts James Baldwin's novel into a tale of love that doesn't ignore the violence but instead finds optimism around it. There's no rioting in the streets. It's a tale of being grateful for the love in your life even as the world knocks you down. It may not be the most inventive story, but what Jenkins has done is provide a warm optimism to guide audiences in a time where cynicism runs rampant, and that's all that's really necessary.

Following the success of Moonlight, Jenkins continues to explore a side of African American culture that seems to be ignored. Not every story needs to have intense action or some profound lesson. What he posits in If Beale Street Could Talk is that the best moments of revelation come in the quietness, when you're sitting around and laughing over a cold beer and cigarette. Set to Nicholas Brittell's timeless score, the world he creates on Beale Street in New York is one that feels compassionate. For all of the brutality discussed, it doesn't compare to the feeling of trust that comes with your loved ones - specifically the central couple Tish Rivers (Kiki Layne) and Fonny Hunt (Stephan James) upon their separation due to false allegations of Fonny raping a girl. To make matters worse, Tish is pregnant and must carry on as he serves time at a prison. The feeling of Fonny making it through without a black eye or busted leg seems impossible.

But it's never seen. Even as Fonny looks into Tish's eyes from behind prison glass and reveals facial injuries, it's a moment geared towards what makes him thankful. This isn't a story where Fonny is a deadbeat, or where Tish finds another man. There is no violent act of revenge to be found. What is present is the underlying pride and humanity of a family that has come together in time of need. Among the film's greatest moments is a conversation early on where Tish invites family friends over to discuss the pregnancy. There's drinks everywhere and some of them acting arrogant, but it's rarely treated as conflict. It's more of a moment for these characters to embrace the surprise, wondering about Tish's future. While there's some hesitation, it comes from concern. Colman Domingo as Tish's father is one of the most loving performances of the whole movie, believing in the power of goodness to guide his daughter through these hard times. The scenes warm up whenever he comes around because he wants what's best for her, rarely acting selfish for the actions of an unjust system.

In its own way, the film's pacifist approach to injustice is a different kind of protest. It's unfortunate that audiences have been primed to want something convenient. These characters should be livid, punching the antagonists in some form of catharsis. There should be a moment where they feel superior to the system that separates Fonny and Trish. It doesn't. In fact, the film wanders through moments that combined add up to a love story that happened in between everything. Tish recounts her life with Fonny, a lifelong friend who became something more, and Jenkins portrays it in the most beautiful of ways. The simple look of genuine safety in each characters' eyes has the power to be moving because it's the face staring back that makes life worth living. It's when they get together to laugh and recount their days that all of the nonsense floats away and all that's left is the joys of life. Again, the idea of rattling cages may seem more en vogue to audiences, but by refusing to give into complicit formula the film becomes something greater. By giving into love, it suggests that there's something greater out there than solving every problem with a fist.

Over just three films, Jenkins has become one of the most exciting filmmakers of the decade thanks in part to his visual aesthetic. With characters puffing cigarettes, it makes sense that the smokey aroma adds a sense of nostalgia to every scene. The cinematography adds beauty to a city street, reflecting how an apartment complex can be seen as something beautiful. Sometimes it's not clear, instead being perceived through Fonny's eyes. Still, what is being created is something that Jenkins perfected with Moonlight. It's a sense of pride in the African American community, where the ecosystem is beautiful but more importantly the people who inhabit it are even more-so. Through a compassionate lens, he finds ways to make intimate moments of laughing and kissing into art that matters. In the realm of American film, black characters have rarely been allowed to be filmed as artfully as they have in a Jenkins movie. They also have rarely been allowed to be more human.

If Beale Street Could Talk is a film whose power lies in its patience and understanding. There's something audacious in the ability to turn a story full of personal mishaps into a story of support. It isn't about revenge, even if it sounds like it would be convenient at the time. It paints a portrait that's likely more honest to 1960's African Americans living in urban environments, where laughter ran freely and loved ones dispensed advice that was more practical than cinematic. Jenkins continues to triumph in making stories that matter by showing that humanity doesn't need to pull itself apart because of misunderstandings. It's frustrating for sure, but it would only make matters worse. With a great cast giving excellent performances, the film is one of the best portrayals of what it means to be alive and care for others. It's about looking past the cynicism and recognizing what makes life worth living: love.