This is one of the best pieces of cultural criticism I have seen in a long long time. I almost can’t believe it exists, and I am just so happy that we HAVE it now. In years to come, this essay will be referenced by others. There’s been nothing else like it, at least not in film criticism.
As with so much of Wesley Morris’ stuff, the essay is singular. It is the perspective of an African-American gay male. A rarity in the hallowed halls of film criticism (puh-leeze), and is a blazing reminder that having any field dominated by white males – having white males set the terms, or at least be the “default” and any other voice is a deviation from that “norm” – does everyone a disservice. Only Morris could have written this piece.
His musings were inspired by Moonlight, a new film that just came out in limited release – and so far has been doing quite well (surprisingly, considering the subject matter and the treatment of that subject matter – not to mention the astonishing final scene), so hopefully it will get a wider release soon. As it stands now, for me, it’s the Film of the Year. It’s a revelation in a way: it’s very rare (almost unheard of) to see something NEW in cinema. Moonlight is one of those movies. It cracks open new ground.
And it started something in Wesley Morris’ mind, and that something led to this piece. I have been reading Wesley Morris for years, since Grantland. He’s one of the best critics working today.
Read this. Fantastic. Was thinking about it again this morning.
Can’t wait to see Moonlight.
Isn’t it extraordinary?
I can’t stop thinking about it, either.
Please let’s discuss Moonlight once you’ve seen it!! None of my friends have seen it and I’ve been dying to talk about it.
NO IDEA of UK release date :-( It was on last month at the London Film Festival but now who knows. Is it on general release in the States?
But I will let you know once I’ve seen it.
Not general yet – still just limited.
But it actually made nice money on its first weekend – which was a surprise – it’s such a small strange film, no stars in it. And I know there was some concern that since it’s a story of a gay man audiences wouldn’t go – or that it would be limited to the LGBT crowd. And even though there are no white people in it, and it’s from a black director/writer – it was a difficult film to market directly TO black audiences, who don’t generally go to LGBT films. That’s just the reality – This information comes from interviews I read with Barry Jenkins – the talented director – he understood the reality of marketing what he had created.
This is definitely made for a wide audience. It’s not a niche film. It’s a MAJOR film, in my opinion – with definitely a star-making performance from Trevante Rhodes – but everyone is so so good in it, the kids, and Andre Holland – and the two women who are in it.
So anyway, all of that being said; the fact that it made good money in a limited release on its first weekend is HUGELY good news. For once, the “buzz” seems to be working and is also warranted.
I was on the Gotham Awards nominating committee for Best Breakthrough Performance, and we really agonized over what to do with Moonlight, in terms of nominations. We referred to it as “The Moonlight Problem” when we met up to narrow down our nominees from a field of 40. Everyone is so good in it – but the lead character is split up into three actors – child, teenager, 20something – all of them amazing, with great continuity – you really believe it’s the same person – so should we give all three ONE nomination? Or should we push Trevante Rhodes into the Best Lead Performance category (it certainly qualifies).
Anyway, what we ended up doing was giving the entire cast of Moonlight a special jury prize for their accomplishment. So they’ll all get to go to the awards ceremony (I’m going too!) – and they’ll all get statues. It was really important to us to acknowledge the special accomplishment here – and to not let anyone involved be ignored.
Judging from the reaction of Barry Jenkins and the cast members on Twitter they’re all thrilled – and I’m proud to have been a part of making that happen. None of these people are stars. None of them expected that anyone would even SEE this movie.
So long story longer: I’m sure it will “go wide” soon – especially since the Gotham thing – it’s the first awards show of the season – and it sort of sends a message: This is one to see.
I wonder if might go to VOD soon too.
While reading Morris’ piece, tears welled up in my eyes near the end when he talked about “affection.”
That (to me) is one of the most revelatory things about Moonlight. You’ll know what I mean when you see it.
Honestly, Ive never seen anything like some of the scenes in Moonlight. Affection – not sexual, but caring, gentleness, affection – is just not seen onscreen between men. It’s really sad. Moonlight opens up new ground in a huge way.
Thanks, Sheila – and I remember reading about the Gotham award nomination too. Great tribute to what sounds like an extraordinary achievement.
“affection.”
That’s the word I was thinking about this morning.
Like I said, can’t wait.
I mean, it just killed me – the affection – and how it arises in the film. Sex is important. But sex is easy compared to affection. And sex is all messed up in Moonlight, too.
Wait until you see the scene between Trevante Rhodes and Andre Holland.
Acting teachers should start assigning that scene immediately to their students.
I’ve read a couple of reviews from gay men where they expressed disappointment in the film because it wasn’t really about a sexual coming out – although of course sexuality is present, etc.
I’d be interested to hear Stevie’s response to that, not to put him on the spot.
But I’m a straight woman, so I’m not sure my response to those gay reviewers’ response is appropriate to say. It just seems that wanting to see a sex scene – well, of course it’s a reaction to the lack of good strong LGBT stories. But it also (to me) represents an unwillingness to grapple with the lack of affection as presented in the film – that that human level is what is so painful – and also universal. Wanting to see naked bodies seems to me beside the point.
Babies suffer, don’t thrive, and sometimes die – if they aren’t touched and cuddled and shown affection.
What happens to a person when affection is lacking?
This goes far beyond “coming out” in terms of embracing the fact that you are gay. But again, I’m not sure it’s my place to say that. I’m not really criticizing those reviewers for having that reaction – I totally get where they’re coming from – I’m just saying I disagree.
I read this yesterday and was floored. I especially admire his willingness to incorporate some of his own experience into the article. I think another issue that he doesn’t mention that could be germane was whether or not slave traders and slaveowners purposely chose male slaves not just because of their youth or strength but also because of their penis size – have you read anything about this, Sheila?
// I especially admire his willingness to incorporate some of his own experience into the article. //
Stevie – I know, that’s one of the most essential parts about this piece. Listen, I love a lot of “white males,” and love anyone who writes from the heart – and does so well. This is not a dis on white male contribution – but when that’s all we have – when any other contribution is dissed (watch how women are scorned when we incorporate our own experiences – especially ambivalent sexual ones – into our writing) – and so a black gay male sharing those adolescent experiences – it’s just so important. Of course as someone with many gay friends, I have heard these stories constantly – in the same way my gay friends have heard mine – but to have it incorporated in a MAJOR piece like this, on THE major newspaper in the world – not a personal website – it’s just DIFFERENT. I read that piece, and felt this huge – almost collective – sigh of release – like: This. This is what we don’t hear in our culture. And only he could say it.
And I don’t know in regards to penis size, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m sure much of that “information” was just anecdotal, apocryphal – or, you know, one black male with a big dick then becomes the stand-in for all – and so then that “information” becomes a “place” to contain white fear of black revenge. You know: instead of looking at and acknowledging the sin of what they were doing to fellow human beings by enslaving them – they (subconsciously or consciously) built up this myth about black male sexual prowess to justify (in part) their subjugation of them. That’s certainly how it’s presented in DW Griffith’s film! Save the white women from the rapacity of the black male!
and of course, even uglier – is the implication that a lot of this came out of male sexual insecurity. White men were afraid that “their” women would not be satisfied by them – and so black men – who were supposedly better hung (even though most of us know that bigger isn’t necessarily better – and of course every man of every race comes in different sizes) – were a huge to the DOMESTIC status quo in terms of marriage, etc.
I am sure there have been books and papers and studies on all of this – although I haven’t read them. I had not heard that quote before quoted in Morris’ piece about the slave serving at the table, with his penis almost visible.
I am excited for you to see the film, Stevie. I look forward to discussing it with you.
and i don’t mean to make it about me, but it’s one of the ways the film works – and where Morris goes in the piece at the very end : but everyday affection is almost unknown to me. I do all right. I get my needs met. But the lack of everyday expressed affection has marked me and it makes affection – when it comes – nearly unbearable. This is one of the ways the film worked on me.
I had a boyfriend who used to touch my face – in a tender way – not sexual – just a “Hey you, hi there” kind of touch – and my face almost burned to the touch and I found it difficult to even stand still and TAKE that touch. He had guessed this about me and would joke, along the lines of, “I know this sucks for you, too bad.”
and etc.
It’s a profound film.
Wow, well I am really looking forward to seeing the movie and discussing it with you. I agree completely, the piece was written by THE person who could tell the story with as much perception and understanding as the issue requires. And it is this interesting place, it isn’t an objective story in the way that we used to define objectivity, but it’s fully informed by the writer’s experience as well as intelligence and scholarship. I think this is what I love so much about your writing, my dear friend. This is what Truman Capote liked to paint In Cold Blood as, right? Some sort of amalgam of nonfiction and fiction, but really it was an amalgam of nonfiction and a very personal point of view, which is my favorite kind of writing. xxx
Well, honey, throwing me into that comparison is so so kind – and I appreciate it more than I can say! xoxo I try!!
// it isn’t an objective story in the way that we used to define objectivity, but it’s fully informed by the writer’s experience as well as intelligence and scholarship. //
Yes! It’s not strictly a memoir piece – which (frankly) would make it a dime a dozen. It’s a piece of film criticism and cultural criticism – with a huge bank of knowledge behind it. Young film critics – many of whom refuse to see Birth of a Nation on principle – would do well to get over themselves so they can participate in the conversation on this extraordinary level. You have to be brave and bold to really face this kind of stuff – and grapple with it on the level it demands to be grappled with. You kind of can’t understand America fully if you haven’t seen Birth of a Nation: IT’S ALL THERE. As brilliant and revolutionary as the film was in terms of Griffith’s pioneering use of the camera – and it should be seen for that alone – it’s also an unambiguous totally un-ironic display of the paranoia and racism that drove (and drives) so much of our country. It’s the nasty underbelly – presented without embarrassment.
Morris is always brave – have you read his Grantland essay on Magic Mike XXL??? It is, hands down, the best thing I have read about that film. Straight white males appreciated the film – and in many ways celebrated it – but it took a black gay male to really dig into it and see what the film was doing. One of his points was: and I’m paraphrasing: This is the paradise on earth we would live in if everyone devoted themselves to making women happy as opposed to slowing them down and scorning what they want.
Even enlightened straight men wouldn’t go that far because that idea implicated THEM in their FAILURES to listen to women and listen to what we want.
They didn’t miss the point through malevolence or bad intent. They just have a blind spot. They take it personally. Wesley Morris doesn’t: he’s a gay man – 1. He’s off the hook for that. And 2. As we know, there’s such a strong bond between gay men and straight women – gay men often can SEE us in a way straight men can’t, because straight men want us, resent us, can’t deal with us, Mommy issues – whatever. :)
He’s such a good thinker. I’m so so glad the NY Times recognized the value of his perspective and snatched him up.
Here’s Morris’ Magic Mike XXL piece:
http://grantland.com/hollywood-prospectus/hump-day-the-utterly-omg-magic-mike-xxl/
Oh man, that’s great! Got to see that movie again!
I watch it when I need to feel good about life. Ha. It’s amazing how well it works!
// gay men often can SEE us in a way straight men can’t, because straight men want us, resent us, can’t deal with us, Mommy issues – whatever. :) //
This is a huge perception. I think gay man are able to see women without the filter of desire/non-desire, which is substantially about objectification, and in that very act of seeing, confer respect. I saw it happen over and over, girls who pretty much fell in love with me, not because I was so lovable, but just because I interacted with them in a non-objectifying way. I think it speaks to how rare it is for girls and women to receive that nonobjectifying respect from men, that receiving it somehow equates to being worthy of loving the person who is conferring that respect. Anyway, a huge topic here! I was thinking about this the other day when I was pondering the whole idea of gay icons, like Barbra and Judy, and wondering why they are so much more popular with gay men than with straight men, and I landed on that idea of how these icons would not pass the sexually desirable/undesirable test most straight men would unconsciously administer. This election has provided two incredible examples, a man who automatically filters women through a “sexually desirable” screen, and a woman who is the victim of this rampant unconscious filtering.
// I think it speaks to how rare it is for girls and women to receive that nonobjectifying respect from men, that receiving it somehow equates to being worthy of loving the person who is conferring that respect. //
Yeah. I think this is very true.
And while it’s great to have a man want to rip your clothes off – and I couldn’t live without it – sometimes it gets to be a muddle, and you really have to watch out for yourself, and police yourself, so that you feel comfortable, everyone’s okay with what’s happening … I never really had the “Will you still respect me in the morning” thing – because Eff that. I had sex because I wanted to and never did it because I felt pressured, and respect seemed to have nothing to do with anything, at least in terms of consensual behavior between adults.
But to have a relationship where none of that comes into play – is a relief. I know I had a huge crush on Mitchell when we first met. :) And look what’s happened there!!
// how these icons would not pass the sexually desirable/undesirable test most straight men would unconsciously administer. This election has provided two incredible examples, a man who automatically filters women through a “sexually desirable” screen, and a woman who is the victim of this rampant unconscious filtering. //
Fascinating!!
I know I’ve thought often that gay men are the Keepers of the Flame, in terms of the best and the most beautiful that is in our culture.
It’s an aesthetic appreciation that goes far far beyond the “norm” – it’s the obsession quality and the participatory quality – and – most importantly: THE LOYALTY. The loyalty shown to the icons … lifelong relationships really to these women, these legends, who have given so much.
Also, Stevie:
In terms of the Divas that become gay icons:
Could you speak to what THEY provide YOU?
Mitchell and I talk about this all the time. But would be curious to hear your take. Like, someone like Cher made Mitchell feel like he was not alone when he was 7 or 8. She was so fabulous and strange and fearless that it almost showed the way to allow him to be “different.”
But is there something else?
Or what do you think?
Okay, here goes (and this is from my generation’s perspective – I know things have changed).
When we’re young, difference is perceived as wrong because it doesn’t equate with the norm, and striving for normal is almost the definition of growing up. As a queer kid, I was busy identifying (through the help of the world at large and playground bullies) all the ways I didn’t fit the mold. These traits were labeled “wrong” and as the list piled up, it became almost a habit to label ALL differences wrong, including smart, funny, talented, eccentric, fat, skinny . . . all lumped under the same banner with my high-pitched whinny and limp-wristedness. Self-consciousness surfaces in the queer child much too early; aside from the need for self-protection that comes from being highly sensitive to the reactions people are having to your behavior, nay, your very way of being, those clues are both an indictment (of the wrongness) and a roadmap to what needs to be changed in those fledgling efforts to conform. So this self-conscious child starts toning down the giggles and the flounces, and then comes the toning down of the comments and jokes and wisdom that bloom through the process of becoming more sensitive to the world, because they betray, too. Laugh at the wrong thing. Frown when you should be smiling. A six-year-old sissy boy has seen the dismay or even rejection in his father’s eyes, the worry in his mother’s, the scorn in his classmate’s glances, disgust, hatred . . . and he understands this stems from his outward display of authenticity! Imagine that six-year-old trying to figure out this societal puzzle. Even at that age, the kid knows he depends on the world around him to survive, so conforming is ultimately on a par with eating and sleeping.
Now along comes a woman (it’s almost always a woman because different men don’t usually get to be in the spotlight) and she’s weird: she’s got a big nose, crossed eyes and long fingernails; she’s smart as a whip, peppy and plain; she’s long and lean and sarcastic and Armenian and Cherokee; she’s soft and vulnerable and reveling in her artificiality; she’s bug-eyed and neurotic and loud and demanding. So the kid sees first the weirdness that he’s got a graduate degree in identifying and says, “Look! She’s as weird as I am!” And then he notices that she’s also talented and funny and moving and achingly empathetic – perhaps he’s these things, too, but they weren’t dared to be displayed because by bringing attention to those sterling qualities, attention was also put on those traits he’s trying to conceal – the Kleig light illuminates everything.
The kid squirms a little at first, wondering how that weird woman DARES to bring attention to herself, and it slowly dawns on him that others seem to really like that weird woman, respect her talents and appreciate what she’s giving them – notwithstanding the nails and nose and crossed eyes. In fact, the appreciation he sees for that woman in the people around him sometimes even extends to appreciation for the weirdness itself – those nails are pretty fabulous when you get right down to it!
An explosion goes off inside that boy – she’s weird AND has society’s approval. She’s weird AND talented. She’s weird AND beautiful, valued, appreciated. The boy starts to rethink the decisions he made when he was three and four (how many of us want to be held to the decisions we made when we were three and four?). He says to himself, “I’m weird, too, and have other things going for me, and maybe I can be appreciated – if not by everyone, at least by some, and most certainly by myself!”
The icon is a gateway to another way of perceiving the world. She says, “Hello, Gorgeous!” and a little boy gets a glimpse into a possibility so much brighter than the forlorn compliance he thought was the only choice. It isn’t necessarily a beckoning to wear a leopard coat (although that’s one possibility) but it’s a beckoning to be authentic.
Icons know this, too, because it was touch-n-go for them at some point (a thorough analysis of Hollywood autobiographies bears this out) and they had to decide whether to tone down the weirdness or utterly go for it, so they communicate this unconsciously like a secret code to everyone who might be in the same place. Now an icon can proudly proclaim, “I was born this way!” and it’s shot heard round the world.
Alex is a true icon because she proudly stands in her weirdness (and her extraordinary beauty and talent) and now that the Kleig light has found her, there’s a legion of young people who can see her – and identify. And exalt.
Loyalty? When a beacon of hope (who happens to have been born in a trunk in the Princess Theater in Pocatello, Idaho) stands before you at an impressionable age – we’re all Brody girls, aren’t we? – she is yours for life. And you are hers. So the bond is made, never to be broken. Even death doesn’t break the bond.
Not every icon has the same effect, of course. Perhaps it requires a combination of the right set of weirdness and the right set of shimmering talents to get to the little boy’s heartstrings.
Case study: I didn’t see in Ann-Margaret traits of my own, so she isn’t an icon to me. Fabulous, yes. Icon? No. For boys much more sexual than I, perhaps that what they saw in her to rise her in their perception to the status of icon.
I suspect that as a person grows into himself, the time passes for the possibility of hatching a new Icon/Follower relationship. I’m okay with myself now. I LOVE Adele, and I LOVE Lady Ga Ga, but neither is an icon to me. I’m post-Icon. So the old ones won’t be replaced. They are my first kiss, my first time, my first Dove bar.
One more point to share on the question of why we form such a close connection to icons. And again this is from the perspective of my own generation.
Boys of my generation were taught to conceal emotion. Boys don’t cry, we know that, but it’s more. Boys are not encouraged to emote. Sports is the one exception, a place of such hyper masculinity that boys are able to whoop in great pleasure for wins and scores, and show their desolation when they lose. (This is an entirely new subject worthy of thorough dissection.)
But imagine the sensitive gay boy. He is instructed not to be emotional, yet he is surging in an emotional response to the world around him. He suffers pain, because he knows perhaps the look of rejection in his father’s eyes and the look of disappointment in his mother’s. If he’s effeminate, he probably knows already not to try to participate in sports, not because he cannot throw a ball, but more importantly, he cannot protect himself in the hyper masculine environment of the locker room. The library is safer.
And so this boy, shut down emotionally, stumbles across a singer, an actress, usually both, emoting to the skies about the man she loves so much, the man who got away, she loves him so, he will never know, all her life is just dispair … and again the reaction is revelatory. For here is someone fully engaged in their emotional life – free of the shackles of society’s constraint against public displays of emotion. The lyrics to the songs will make more sense to him when he’s older (and may, in fact, renew the bond with the icon), but for now it is the spectacle and wonder of seeing someone being fully emotional. Again it is a beacon that sheds a light on a possible future where the child will have the freedom to express his feelings. It is so hopeful!
Think of all the icons whose successes register 10 on the Richter scale of emotion. And yes, you have to have a powerhouse voice and a hell of a belt to sell a hugely emotional song, so from the artist’s point of view there is the attraction to emotional songs to sing because they showcase their talent, and gives them the opportunity to add the extra layer of acting which brings a great song to stratospheric heights.
The icon is fulfilled because she is able to take those four minutes and give it everything she’s got, and the fan exults in her gift to him of all of that talent and the bravery she demonstrates in exhibiting all of that emotion. His future is not the bleak world of hidden emotions anymore, he will spread his wings and FEEL.
And your words about affection, they really hit me hard. I get that so deeply; on the very rare occasions when I am the recipient of affection, the gentle spontaneous physical sort, it throws me for a loop and plunges the rest of my life into an abyss.
// it throws me for a loop and plunges the rest of my life into an abyss. //
Yes!
Moonlight is – in so many respects – about that.
I was seeing a psychologist and I was talking about my relationship with my mother, big surprise there, and he asked me to describe a moment when my mother was affectionate towards me. And I talked about when I would rub her feet. Her feet always hurt, and I would rub them, from the time I was a little kid, and it just became a natural part of sitting in the living room most evenings, on the sofa with my mother’s feet in my lap. Very similar, as I think of it now, to when one of my cats jumped into my lap and I just mindlessly pet it. The psychologist said to me, “that’s you showing affection to her, not her showing affection to you.” Gulp. This is how screwed up I am about affection, and how little I experienced it, I suppose, in childhood and throughout my life.
// The psychologist said to me, “that’s you showing affection to her, not her showing affection to you.” Gulp. This is how screwed up I am about affection, and how little I experienced it, I suppose, in childhood and throughout my life.
//
:( Some tears happening over here. Bless that psychologist, though, for making that observation, as painful as it might have been.
And speaking of pets – this is one of the things Hope provides: easy everyday affection. I don’t mind saying it. She loves me. And there are times when she needs to cuddle. She basically circles my armchair, waiting for an opening to jump up in my lap. It meets a huge need in me.
It’s painful stuff. Very very human though.
Love you.
Oh definitely, the affection I receive from my pets is perhaps the most consistent affection I’ve ever experienced in my life. They love me and want to show their affection towards me! It’s so naked. It’s an interesting line between affection shown and neediness expressed. But my life would be empty indeed without snuggles from my babies. I love Hope for loving you.
And animals don’t judge. Or withhold for manipulative reasons. It’s pure. I’m her “person.” She doesn’t always want pats – sometimes she’s like, “Ew, you just touched my back, and now I need to wash that spot.” hahahaha But yeah: it’s a beautiful thing.
There’s an infuriating piece that just went up on NY Mag from a snotty parent saying, “No, pet owners, you are not ‘parents.'” Why do some parents feel the need to do this? So you’re a parent. What do you want, a medal? Human beings have been procreating from the beginning since, duh, we’re still here as a human race. You are nothing special for doing it. In fact, you are ORDINARY for doing it. Get. Over. Yourself.
And what do YOU care if a childless friend loves their pet and cries when the pet dies and worries if the pet is sick? Why does this annoy you? What’s WRONG with you? Are you so insecure about your own choices? Focus on raising your stupid kids, why don’t you, and leave us alone.
Exactly. I find this so offensive as well. It’s so demeaning to say that child rearing is the only admirable way to be in the world. Big damn deal. Also, let’s get over the fact that it’s this purely altruistic thing that people do, having and raising kids. To be blunt, nobody is going to wipe my ass when I’m 90 years old, because I didn’t arrange for someone to be there to do it.
// To be blunt, nobody is going to wipe my ass when I’m 90 years old, because I didn’t arrange for someone to be there to do it. //
Honey, you speak out one of my nightmares.
Yup.
Back to black penises in movies: I love the scene in Any Given Sunday when Cameron Diaz goes into the locker room and is walking through and shakes hands with a naked black football player as casual as you please. His dangling penis is the elephant in the room. White woman dressed to the nines, shaking hands with a naked black man. Talk about a charged moment! It comes and goes so quickly, but it sure made an impression.
I remember that!
Another memorable example of black penises in the movies happened right near the birth of the full-frontal male in American film, in 1971: Drive, He Said, directed by Jack Nicholson. A college football team is a central element in the story, and near the start of the movie, we follow the team into the locker room and then into the shower. And two black teammates dominate the foreground of the shot, at one point jokingly waving their members at each other. There’s young-male bravado among them all, and post-game friskiness in the team’s badinage, but there’s also defiance in presenting what in previous American movies had been hidden (the story goes that Nicholson had wanted even more, a “symphony of dicks” as he called it in interviews, but had to take what he could).
Rather amusing in retrospect is that the two brazen actors in question pretty soon became identified as images of responsibility and righteousness on TV: Michael Warren (Ofc. Bobby Hill on Hill Street Blues) and Charlie Robinson (the bailiff on Night Court).
Rinaldo – wow, I’ve seen Drive He Said a million years ago – I think it played at the Music Box and I saw it there – and I do vaguely remember that scene.
The “symphony of dicks.” hahahaha Ah, Jack. I love you.
There’s something, too, about male camaraderie – on that level – not necessarily homoerotic – although sometimes it is, and everyone remains “straight” – but it still exists (which is why Magic Mike XXL is a bit of a revelation – because it cracks that very common and yet almost never seen on film dynamic). This thing – whatever it is – exists between women too – “girl crushes” we call them – but men haven’t been allowed to say that stuff, acknowledge it, etc. And Wesley Morris’ story about being at camp and the boys checking out each other’s dicks in the shower – curious about each other – It’s extremely threatening to the concept of being a man, masculinity – whereas women (we have other problems) just don’t experience that kind of rigidity if we appreciate another woman’s beauty, her ass, her rack, whatever.
I was just involved in a FB conversation yesterday about Moonlight (the movie that started this whole fabulous conversation).
My friend Odie – who is black – posted on FB: “If I hear one more white person call Moonlight ‘Boyhood for Black People’ … This is why we need diversity in film criticism.”
Amen. I don’t think Moonlight has ANYthing in common with Boyhood – not its themes or style – except for the fact that it shows the same character from childhood to 20s. but it’s played by 3 different actors, not one. Like: it’s the lamest and almost most offensive comparison. As though white people wouldn’t enjoy Moonlight unless it was compared to a white equivalent. (and that very well may be true for some stupid audience members.)
In my opinion – Moonlight is singular, unique, and that’s why everyone has been talking about. At some point the comparisons to other things fall apart. It’s not a coming-of-age movie although … it kind of is. (And Boyhood, too, was singular. There is nothing like IT as well. But because it’s a “white” story – and because of the title – it was taken as some “universal” expression of humanity – which obviously is not true. And also was not Linklater’s intention.)
And someone on that FB thread said – what Moonlight really is about is an examination of American masculinity.
(which makes it sound super didactic and preach-y – which it isn’t at all. But all it does is look at – the stinginess that can be the “lot” of boys in terms of an emotional life – set aside the sexuality factor. And what happens when it is assumed that boys do not need tenderness and affection – at least after a certain point. There’s the whole ‘man up’ sentiment. But what does that mean? Toughen up? Harden up? If you look at suicide statistics, more men than women actually kill themselves. And no wonder. They open up to get help and they’re told to ‘man up.’
And Moonlight really is about THAT.
And that’s what makes it new. Not seen before. Fresh. Radical.
This has been a fascinating conversation, y’all. Thank you!
Excellent review with Barry Jenkins, writer/director of Moonlight, in Film Comment:
http://www.filmcomment.com/article/moonlight-barry-jenkins-interview/
wow, thanks for the link Sheila — what a powerful and eloquent essay that prods at me with many thoughts that have neither time nor brainspace to mess with so forgive the following scatter: I was particularly struck by his words on Mapplethorpe and how those photographs present now, stained both liberatory and fetishistic. And the idea that there is only “one” black penis — considering of course that “Man in Polyester Suit” has no face, no gaze — can only look with one eye, so to speak. The penis stands in for the living presence of the man. Those servant boy slaves who I suppose would have been required to not make eye contact. To be a body only. As bell hooks says, there is a strong risk to the social order when the slave returns the gaze (and a strong risk to the safety of the slave because that defiant potential is always there and must be repressed at all cost) — how much easier for whites and white structures to replace the face and the gaze with the penis, and how much more potent the penis then becomes.
(There’s a moment in 12 Years a Slave that’s stuck with me more than any other, when Solomon finally starts singing spirituals, and Ejiofor looks directly into the camera — incredible — both a surrender and a claim for himself as himself implicating the viewer)
And thanks all for the discussion. I’ve skipped my own eyes over some of the Moonlight stuff hoping to come to it fresh (if it ever gets released over here). But the discussion on affection — gay, black, both — is particularly striking. Still far far too rare.
So Moonlight and affection — reminds me finally of Frank Ocean’s open letter of a few years ago. Not sure how familiar you are with him — acclaimed R&B artist — second album a MAJOR release, and this letter simultaneously released was about his sexuality but also contained just this heartbreaking image of an unrequited love confession. This tender and sad and yearning feeling suffuses a lot of his music — see for instance Thinkin Bout You (I am particularly touched in this clip of the teenage arcade backdrop and the young men playing so sensitively as he sings this gorgeous song about loving a man). More stories like Moonlight, more people like Frank, we so desperately have to find them, find them, make room for them.
Jessie – I’m so glad you read it. I think it’s a really important essay. I hope it wins something. A Pulitzer. Something.
The Mapplethorpe section really interested me too –
// And the idea that there is only “one” black penis — considering of course that “Man in Polyester Suit” has no face, no gaze — can only look with one eye, so to speak. The penis stands in for the living presence of the man. //
Right.
Mapplethorpe’s “gaze” has always interested me. Sometimes his gaze frightens me, or disturbs me – sometimes it doesn’t … Patti Smith’s book was interesting about her experience of how he sort of drifted off into the kind of night life that she couldn’t follow into. The male-only world. And … objectifying was obviously a part of what that kind of night life is about – all about the cock – and how ROUGH it was, and how drawn into rough-ness RM – so beautiful, a beautiful looking boy – was … and so what does that even MEAN? Especially in terms of art – or how the artist was trying to understand his own world and desires.
But then there’s the racial aspect, which Morris points out – I am sure other people have written on this before, but I’m just not aware of it. The objectifying of that photo – I mean, it goes beyond objectifying. It’s almost complete dehumanization – and yet it’s also presented as though it is beautiful and an object of awe.
Sex is all messed up!
// there is a strong risk to the social order when the slave returns the gaze (and a strong risk to the safety of the slave because that defiant potential is always there and must be repressed at all cost) — how much easier for whites and white structures to replace the face and the gaze with the penis, and how much more potent the penis then becomes. //
Interesting!!
Eye contact: fraught with danger. But I hadn’t thought about how the face is then replaced by the penis – a re-directing of the anxiety about slavery itself (which many white slave owners felt – of course – they were out-numbered and they had guilty consciences – at least the ones who weren’t total psychos did.)
Male anxiety about competence in the sack? Who has the biggest dick? We just saw some of that go on in our Presidential election here. It was so so gross, but that just goes to show you how primal it is.
I am not all that familiar with Frank Ocean actually and have been meaning to rectify that – all of my friends were flipping OUT about his last album. That letter!! It was heartbreaking!
I would bet Moonlight will make it to VOD sooner rather than later – although I’m not sure about availability in other countries. It’s something else. I’m looking forward to seeing it again. the first time I was just a wreck – and I really wanted to go back and watch it more carefully.
Stevie: I am taking our conversation down here because that thread was getting unwieldy up there.
Your latest comment brought tears to my eyes. It makes so much sense!! Permission to FEEL. This makes me so sad. Not just for gay boys, but for boys, in general. It’s a dreadful thing, to have an entire culture geared around telling boys that they should not feel things. It has been enormously destructive – maybe even MORE destructive than telling girls that they should be sugar/spice/nice.
// but for now it is the spectacle and wonder of seeing someone being fully emotional. //
God, yes!! And so it’s an access-way into the world of being human, really. Because we are all human beings, and human beings feel things. Duh. The culture is so terrified of – and embarrassed by – strong emotion. It’s so damaging!
These Divas are life-savers and life-givers, then.
I know that when I was a kid I had so many strong feelings about things that everyone was always telling me to calm down, relax … but I couldn’t. It’s not how I’m built. I wonder sometimes if my obsessive passion for certain actors and singers came out of the feeling that my feelings were too strong for the regular world – so I needed somewhere safe to “put” it all. Okay, so I can’t just walk around in the world with all this strong feeling, because everyone is clearly put off by it, but Ralph Macchio can take it!
I think you have put your finger on what informs many of the bonds between gay boys and straight girls: perhaps they share the desire for a more emotional (aka more authentic) life, and this is what attracts them to each other! Kindred spirits. Do you think that might’ve been part of what drew you and Mitchell together when you were young? I wish we could discuss this with the Tennessee Williams and Truman Capote. I have a feeling they would both have insights into this! Love you, Sheila! xxx
Stevie – I think definitely that we – straight girls, gay boys – can find a safe space with one another to be dramatic, emotional, emotive, enthusiastic … Nobody’s trying to tell each other to calm down. :)
In a way, it’s like you get to keep those emotions inTACT – so that they’re stronger and you have more confidence in them for when you move into the sexual realm. Like: Hey, this is a valid part of me, I am valued for this, I don’t WANT to suppress this.
To be fair, the boyfriends I’ve had – most of them – were smart boys, albeit rough around the edges – and were drawn to me BECAUSE I am so passionate and enthusiastic and open. I gave THEM permission to “go there” and that was the draw for them.
Tennessee Williams has an amazing quote about women … let me track it down.
TW in an interview with James Grissom: Grissom asked if Tennessee believed in angels. Tennessee said, “Of course I believe in angels. They’re called women.”
If a straight man said that – I would think:
1. He was a patriarchal religious nut – like Paul Ryan who said that women should be “revered.” Shut up, Paul.
2. He was trying to get in my pants. Or trying to get brownie points/a cookie for being “enlightened.”
Some straight men get all pissy when you make such observations. (Nothing worse than a pissy straight man.) They can’t believe that different rules apply in different situations. They want the rules to be the same always, everywhere. “How come HE can say that and I can’t?”
If I never ever hear that question again …
This conversation seems even more urgently relevant, in light of the ongoing horror show.