Moonlight (2016)

For those that are unaware, the trailer for the new Civil Rights movie Till has been out for a bit and it's absolutely amazing. It stars Danielle Deadwyler as Mamie Till-Mobley, the mother of Emmett Till played by Jalyn Hall. 

The story recounts the fateful time in 1955 Mississippi when Emmett Louis Till was lynched while visiting his cousins. The young boy was in a grocery store when he began to talk with a white woman named Carolyn Bryant. While talking with her, it was alleged that he whistled or flirted with her, offending her. She alerted her husband and his half-brother went to Till’s uncle’s house and abducted the boy. They tortured, beat, and shot him, throwing his body into the Tallahatchie River.

The two men that tortured and murdered Till were acquitted. This was one of the events that launched the Civil Rights movement and propelled it to the mainstream. Till was fourteen years old when he was killed.

With movies like Moonlight and 12 Years a Slave that have won Oscar Gold, including Best Picture, it doesn't seem like much of a stretch to see Till winning the same award. 

In the current age of the film industry, with the oversaturation of superhero shlock, rapacious legacy sequels, and soulless adaptations, it's all too easy for genuine auteurs and passionate filmmakers striving to bring about their unique vision to get lost in the shuffle. While some do manage to separate themselves from the abundance of mediocrity - directors like Christopher Nolan, Wes Anderson, and arguably the greatest filmmaker of our time, Denis Villeneuve, there are many creators making films just as great, if not more so, than some of these films put out by universally recognized names. I want to bring to the forefront directors who may be well known and respected within the industry but have yet to reach this heightened public awareness that I think they so greatly deserve.

At the time of writing, Barry Jenkins' filmography consists of just three feature film releases. Medicine for Meloncholy (2008), Moonlight (2016), and If Beale Street Could Talk (2018). The latter two of which are among the best films of the last decade and Moonlight, I argue, being a film in the upper echelon of moving picture history; an untouchably beautiful and immeasurably moving piece of cinema that serves as a staple not just for Black and LGBT storytelling, but American cinema as a whole. Very seldom do directors execute with such grandeur in their films and even more rare is their first feature(s) reaching a height that most other filmmakers are unlikely to ever attain throughout their entire careers. But Jenkins has done just that; with only these three features to his name, he's managed to outclass the vast majority of his colleagues and in my eyes, has already cemented his status as an industry legend with the likes of a Martin Scorsese, Jean-Luc Godard, or Francis Ford Coppola. And if he never manages to top or even achieve again the quality of film that is Moonlight in his career, nothing can tarnish the legacy he has already established for himself.

But what is it that makes these films so powerful? So poignant? Why does his work stand far and above so many others? It's simple, really. He cares more than most. He isn't trying to capitalize on the generational trauma of Black people in America. If Beale Street Could Talk isn't just another movie about racial injustice and the mistreatment of African Americans by the police. That's certainly the backdrop but Jenkins doesn't want to paint them as mere victims but as competent and capable human beings. Moonlight ignores Hollywood tropes entirely and makes a wholly and totally personal story about a young boy's journey to self-discovery in an environment that actively discourages it - he treats his characters as complex individuals rather than the sum of their trauma. 

Growing up without a dad, I got a lot of my fatherly advice from the prototypes I saw on the silver screen. It’s these characters and films that, not only gave me a glimpse into a dynamic I had never known or understood, but also made me realize that I was in fact missing out. So for those who feel the same or just want to watch a movie with their dad, here are my top 10 paternal films.

Juan and Chiron’s relationship in the first chapter we see of his life is absolutely beautiful. A big-time drug dealer, as muscular and powerful as he is, Juan helps this little boy who is being picked on for being gay and is neglected by his mother. He feeds him, talks to him, and teaches him how to swim in one of the most beautifully composed cinematic scenes I have ever watched. Juan rejects many of the assumptions people would make about a drug dealer. He has so much love and care for this child. I would put him higher on the list if he didn’t do that thing he did (watch the movie to find out :) 

There is no such thing as watching too many movies. I know that since my family and I have enacted social distancing, the amount of movies we’ve watched has skyrocketed. And if there can be a silver lining in the messiness and ugliness of the situation we’re all in right now, it’s that we have an opportunity to watch a lot of the movies that we’ve been meaning to watch and re-watch a lot of the movies that we’ve been meaning to re-watch. I know the other day I was looking through my Blu-ray collection and picked out the 1933 King Kong, a movie I’ve owned for about a year but never watched. It’s one of those movies I always said to myself, “Not now, I’ll watch it another time.” But because we’re stuck indoors with nothing to do, I finally said, “Screw it, it’s time to watch King Kong!” And I loved it!

With the popularity of my previous list (you can check it out here), I wanted to recommend another 19 movies for people to check out across Netflix, Amazon Prime, HBO Max, and Hulu. So here you are; go watch some movies! You can’t really go wrong with any of them.

1 | Apocalypse Now (1979) | Amazon Prime

Directed by: Francis Ford Coppola

The history of Hollywood is as ugly as it is beautiful. You can go back and look at decades of iconic films that have graced the silver screen, from Gone with the Wind (1939) to Citizen Kane (1941) to North by Northwest (1959). Most notably absent from Hollywood history, however, are Black-produced films. When movies did feature Black characters, they were always written by White writers and directed by White directors. The stories were never centered around Black people focusing on what it means to be Black.

Developed by Simon Frederick, They’ve Gotta Have Us (2018) is a limited series on Netflix that explores the rise of Black cinema in Hollywood. From The Birth of a Nation (1915) to Black Panther (2018), and everything in between, They’ve Gotta Have Us offers a comprehensive and compelling look at Black representation in film and the surge of Black-produced cinema.

I’ve mentioned before that some of my favorite classes I took in college were film history courses. I love contextualizing movies and seeing how every film influenced the next. However, I learned virtually nothing about the parallel history of Black cinema in Hollywood. They’ve Gotta Have Us proves to be incredibly enlightening, exploring so many facets of Hollywood history that were previously unknown to me.

The series features interviews with prominent Black filmmakers such as Barry Jenkins (Moonlight, If Beale Street Could Talk), Laurence Fishburne (School Daze, The Matrix), David Oyelowow (Selma, A United Kingdom), Kasi Lemmons (The Silence of the Lambs, Candyman), John Boyega (Attack the Block, Star Wars: The Force Awakens), Gina Prince-Bythewood (The Secret Life of Bees, Beyond the Lights), Carmen Ejogo (Selma, It Comes at Night), and Robert Townsend (Hollywood Shuffle, The Five Heartbeats).

Going into the series, I would have assumed that Black voices had been suppressed in the industry for decades even if I didn’t necessarily know all of the details beforehand; I had no idea the extent to which this happened. The beginning of the series looks at the early years of Hollywood. The Birth of a Nation (1915) defined the motion picture and shaped everything about what movies are and how they are made. Director D.W. Griffith did not believe Black actors were capable of giving the performances he wanted, so he cast White actors in blackface to play horrific caricatures.

While film and TV still have a long way to go when it comes to LGBT representation, there are so many more opportunities for LGBT people to see themselves onscreen than there were even a few years ago. Best of all, some of the best LGBT films and shows are available online for free or on popular streaming services that you might already be subscribed to. Here are some of my top picks for films and TV shows with positive LGBT representation, sorted by where you can find them. (Note: This list is accurate as of June 2021, but streaming libraries change frequently.)

Tubi offers a library of over 20,000 movies and shows for the unbeatable price of zero dollars, as long as you're willing to put up with a few ads.

Must-Watch LGBT Movies Online Recommendations

Fast forward to present day and well, the 93rd Academy Awards came and went kind of awkwardly. I must admit, I mostly watched the highlights through Twitter because I haven't been able to sit through the entire program since the La La Land/Moonlight debacle. Even so, under the circumstances of pandemic and social distancing, they still managed to (somewhat) provide the never-ending Hollywood glam fest. With no host, they relied on the presence of previous winners and guests to present. With the limited crowd, it was easier to see the diversity of the nominees this year. And as so many have stated, it was the most diverse set of nominees to date--a fact that the Oscars not only subtly used to their benefit--but also, in my opinion, exploited. But even with the celebration of that feat, a part of me (the most pessimistic side) still felt...well, eh? I ask myself, will this last? Was it really as groundbreaking as it was made out to be? Do we celebrate this as a genuine improvement? Each time someone non white or non male is up for an award, a part of me wonders if this is a true testament of their achievement or is it the Academy trying to boost their inclusivity points? Again and again, it takes me back to 2016: the boycotting of the Oscars and the #OscarsSoWhite campaign that was a continuation of a larger conversation around inequity in Hollywood.

I remember that video of Jada Pinkett Smith talking about her frustration with the lack of nomination for Black people at the Oscars. This conversation included other filmmakers like Ryan Coogler, Spike Lee and together they add to a small number of those who have boycotted the Academy's shows. Then the #OscarsSoWhite started to circle around most social media platforms, boosting the topic on snubs. It came after another very white concentrated list of nominees for the Oscars that year. A lot of people were conflicted on this issue because it seems like "an elite problem." Some people said Jada Pinkett Smith was just griping about her husband not getting the gold man. Others have highlighted the fact that there was also a huge lack of representation for the LGBTQ+ community. Personally, I didn't think Will Smith's performance is the important part of this debate. Don't get me wrong, Will Smith is a great actor as were many of the other potential nominees. Despite the power and money the Smiths and other actors/actresses have, I think the point I wish to save from the rubble of the ongoing messy debate is there are racial disparities in Hollywood performance recognition. The focus is typically on the Oscars because of how famous and reputable they are but it filters through even the more smaller festivals. This shouldn't be mistaken as just a "Black and white thing." This is a privilege thing. All non white, male-dominated communities have suffered the Hollywood standard. I look at it this way: money runs the show, plain and simple. There's a reason why you hear certain actors, actresses and films referred to as "Academy Award Winning" in their promotion. You pay some kind of price to get in there. That's why old money and power have a larger stake in this Hollywood game. It also makes me think  about all the years of silence around Harvey Weinstein. If the #meToo movement never happened, how much more silence would there be right now? And a lot of the people who have been a part of building that empire have been frankly white old bigots. Hence, the #OscarsSoWhite tag includes even those so far behind the scenes, we often forget their involvement. Therefore, yes, we can see a change in nominees, a boost in winners; we can see some of them break the barriers--but in my eyes, I still question this visibility. It doesn't necessarily mean the actor/actress/film isn't worthy. But in no way shape or form is it getting more "equal." If we think about what a boycott represents, why it matters, perhaps we can start a conversation on why we still rely on these institutions to change in ways that they were never meant to be in the first place? Never forget the "entertainment" Hollywood was founded on. Maybe its time to start award shows that, in their inception, are meant to uplift and celebrate inclusive stories.

In my opinion, Chadwick Boseman should've won. I enjoy Anthony Hopkins' performances and his film roles are iconic, but the career and influence that Chadwick had and the passion and heartbreak that he poured into his character while also fighting colon cancer...it makes me wince every time. That's a powerful artist. I usually can't help but root for the "underdog," but in this case, I would have never taken Chadwick Boseman to be the underdog. He was the superhero to all superheros. Not only that, but the Academy profited so much off of his posthumous nomination, and they knew it! Why in the name of whoever, would you do Best Actor category last if it wasn't to commemorate Chadwick Boseman? It leaves a sneaky and ugly impression! Then, the show just ended...? They didn't even let Anthony Hopkins give a speech remotely upon his request. And here I thought nothing could get worse than the Moonlight/La La Land situation but--I digress. If the boycott and the #OscarsSoWhite is still saying something, it's saying that it's not only about race and gender, it's about power. What's left is how much of that we uplift ourselves.

(Note: This article was originally publiched by Mick Cohen-Carroll on Medium in June 2020. For current information about the state of the racial justice movement in America, I recommend reading updates about Derek Chauvin's trial, this interview with Kentucky's Rep. Attica Scott about the ongoing imapct of Breonna Taylor's murder, this update about the shooting of Jacob Blake, and this analysis of the scope of Black Lives Matter protests.)

Hollywood loves to jump on current events, especially those with big socio-political ramifications. There have been timely movies about pretty much every news-worthy incident since WWI. However, stories about race or racial injustice are often eclipsed or buried under other tragic events. So, through the films they produce and finance, how will Hollywood react to the current status quo? It’d be interesting to discover their approach in the wake of the George Floyd protests (which are largely peaceful) and the call to action for anti-racism. There are two things to consider. The first is that Hollywood, after all, is a business and the second is that Hollywood might not be as socially liberal as the right-wing claims.

Though there is room for art, and you must be creative to make a film, the movie industry is, after all, just that: an industry. And in an industry, the primary goal is to make money. If it’s art, great, but that is not the end goal. Artistry is the byproduct. That is why people like Martin Scorsese call the Marvel movies “theme parks” and not cinema. He makes the distinction that cinema is (by his definition) more daring, unexpected, honest and artistic.

So while “cinema” (used in the Scorsesian sense) does exist, the rise in blockbuster movies with high budgets and explosively high box office returns shows that Hollywood is primarily interested in making money. That is why it attracts people to become top execs and producers, like Steve Mnuchin, the current Secretary of the Treasury. Hard to believe that the ex-Goldman Sachs investment banker was in it for the art or the love of cinema.

After years of being ignored, shut down, or shifted around, I think we’re finally getting somewhere with black cinema getting its due. I think it is finally at the point where mainstream audiences will just watch a movie for black audiences and not have it feel forced or empty. It’s not at the level it needs to be at just yet, but I do think it is getting traction. Not counting the Oscars (especially after seeing Green Book win last year), I think that black cinema is making waves with the general population, and that excites me, because that can break up the formulaic and problematic amount of films that reach audiences and can open up the door for other minorities to start appearing in film more now that it’s proving that movies with diversity CAN reach people of all backgrounds despite their intended audience. I think since 2016, there has been a stream of successful (and now iconic) movies by black artists, for black audiences, with general appeal. Moonlight, Fences, Get Out, Us, Blackkklansman, Blindspotting, If Beale Street Could Talk, Sorry to Bother You, The Hate U Give, and Black Panther are just a few of the plethora that come to mind, and all are great or excellent movies. It’s a far cry from times like 2004 where the most notable black led movies were Hotel Rwanda (white director) and White Chicks (infamously bad).

So, how does Queen & Slim hold up in this black film-making start of a renaissance? It’s…OK. And I’m not gonna lie: I am highly disappointed that it’s just OK, because this was one of the most anticipated films of the year for me, and for good reason. For starters, the premise is the best kind of hook you could ask for: A black man shoots a white police officer in self defense while on a Tinder date. He and the date go on the run. That’s an amazing idea to film a movie around. Likewise, it is the directorial debut of double Grammy winner Melina Matsoukas, who is best known for her fantastic music videos. And on top of that, Daniel Kaluuya, one of my up and coming favorite new actors, was one of the stars. And yes, I was somewhat right. The premise was intriguing. The direction was nice. The acting was great. But I forgot the cardinal virtue of good cinema: a solid script.

Spoilers going forward from here. You don’t want them, jump to the final paragraph.

Unfortunately, Queen & Slim is a very sloppy movie, and that is owed to the writing. It is, simply put, underwhelming. Very likely because it’s not offering anything new and refreshing to witness. And I think the film is self aware of that, and overcompensates by trying to put in extra effort to look iconic. That photo I posted above is the movie’s moment of saying “Hey, this is a cool shot, right?!” and it’s also the final shot in the movie. There is a line in this movie (and it’s trailer) comparing Queen and Slim’s run from the law as the “Black Bonnie and Clyde”. Well, not really. Because Queen and Slim shoot an officer in self-defense, run off, live “free”, and most notably, die as martyrs, rather than as be rebellious or controversial cop killers. I think Queen & Slim actually could have benefited from being more ballsy and just having the duo take down cops all on their way to escape. But instead they’re just a bit too nice and charismatic, and when their getaway falls apart, it turns into another black pain movie that we’ve seen far too many times for it to carry the same weight. The writing is never sure if it wants to be an iconic drama or a dark comedy, and it dives into fantastical and surreal situations but never runs all the way with them. I want to like this movie so much more than I do, but it constantly gets in its own way with its clumsiness or pretentiousness. It has something to say, especially in the United States in 2019, but it appears to be so angry it can’t form a cohesive argument. It reminds me of this year’s Us, which I loved, but struggled to fully comprehend the message of. But I could at least get the gist of Us, and I had a lot of fun watching it. In the meanwhile, I walked away from Queen & Slim being more confused than impressed, and more thoughtful on my feelings towards it than the message it tried to deliver.

The two writers for Queen & Slim were Lena Waithe, who co-wrote the Emmy-winning Master of None “Thanksgiving” episode, a fantastic piece of television. When writing Queen & Slim, Waithe was working on a story she conceived with none other than James Frey, best known for his writing scandal rather than his actual work now. For those that are unaware, he infamously fabricated some of his writing and passed it off as auto-biographical, and told Larry King he embellished a few details…but when he saw Oprah, he cracked and said he flat out lied. So it makes sense that a fresh/talented writer and somewhat (?) talented author guilty of literary forgery did not make the best duo for writing a screenplay for a debut director. Each scene in Queen & Slim feels more like its own scene in another movie and while the scenes are decently engaging, the overall product of all the scenes put together is a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster.