Leave the World Behind

Director: Sam Esmail
Starring: Julia Roberts, Mahershala Ali, Ethan Hawke, Myha'la, Farrah Mackenzie, Charlie Evans, Kevin Bacon
Running Time: 141 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Writer/director Sam Esmail's Leave the World Behind follows a long tradition of apocalyptic thrillers that stretch beyond the likes of M. Night Shyamalan's Knock at the Cabin from earlier this year. Comparing the two, this isn't as much a departure in tone than execution, as the Mr. Robot creator prioritizes interpersonal relationships over mystery. By doing this, his characters exist to make broader generalizations about America's infrastructural and societal vulnerabilities, zeroing in on how people respond to chaos and crisis. 

Based upon Rumaan Alam's 2020 novel, it's easy to see how these elements attracted producers Barack and Michelle Obama, even if it's not necessarily the type of project you'd expect to see them credited on. But it is one that very much exists in the here and now, setting its sights firmly on a frightening near-future that already seems to have arrived. There are eye-rolling moments and plot holes, but as far as doomsday scenarios go, it doesn't fly too far off the rails. We watch as these people scramble, their best and worst traits coming to the surface in the midst of an unpredictably hopeless situation.

New York-based advertising executive Amanda Sandford (Julia Roberts) wakes up one morning and informs her college professor husband Clay (Ethan Hawke) they're going on an impromptu vacation to Long Island with their two kids Rose (Farrah Mackenzie) and Archie (Charlie Evans). Upon arriving at the luxurious rental house, they decide to hit the beach, where an incident involving an out-of-control oil tanker and their sudden loss of TV and Wi-Fi raises suspicions. But it isn't until the home's self-proclaimed owner G.H. Scott (Mahershala Ali) and his daughter Ruth (Myha'la) arrive at the front door in the middle of the night that things get complicated.

Financial advisor G.H. cites a citywide blackout as their reason for returning, and while a distrustful Amanda isn't buying it, the more amiable Clay agrees to let them stay overnight when G.H. offers them a refund. With news alerts reporting hackers are behind the cyberattack, the two families argue about the right approach, gradually realizing this situation is far worse than any of them assumed. With the clock running out to formulate a plan, Amanda further questions how much G.H. and Ruth really know, as everyone's chances of survival hang in the balance.

It's to Roberts' credit that she's all in for this since it just might be her most unlikeable character yet. The performance is essentially a more nuanced take on Sandra Bullock's privileged white woman turn in Crash, complete with some of the racist undertones. Amanda isn't shy about sharing her world view in the film's third wall breaking opening scene, establishing herself as a miserable, self-loathing elitist who indiscriminately despises everyone. The actress believably pulls this off, all while exploring some greyer areas that have us questioning Amanda's true feelings and motivations.

Hawke's more easygoing, far less confrontational Clay seems to accept H.G.'s story with little hesitation, even as he sees no issue with the homeowner and his daughter being relegated to the basement. But H.G. knows something more than he's letting on, and to a far lesser extent, so does Ruth, which only adds to the tension. Mahershala Ali is subtly effective as the calm, steady voice of reason, particularly shining in the scenes where he and Roberts' characters loosen up, discovering more in common than either anticipated.

Myha'la sort of steals the film as rebellious, free thinking Ruth, going toe-to-toe with Roberts in some of the best scenes. While Amanda's disdain for the young woman is evident from the moment they meet, Ruth's easily the most observant and practical of the bunch. Telling it like it is without fear of consequences, she pushes the buttons that shake them out of their bewilderment and complacency.

Self-driving Tesla car wrecks, severed body parts, plane crashes, alarmingly large herds of deer and deafening noises aren't isolated incidents and indicate a worst case scenario that's further confirmed when they step outside. Kevin Bacon appears as a paranoid survivalist and it's downright surreal to see him and Hawke together on screen for first time, maybe finally disproving that popular theory they're the same person. There's also a pretty humorous subplot involving daughter Rose's obsession with finishing a Friends binge cut short by the cyberattack. This seems like a throwaway joke, but Esmail remains committed to paying it off.

By the time viewers are clued into how cataclysmic this event is, it's too late for the characters, who will either turn on each other or unite to pull through. At points, you'd be forgiven for thinking the plot's a troll job intended to send conspiracy theorists into a tailspin, especially since it's so firmly rooted in current events, with few, if any, supernatural elements at play. Its ironic conclusion doesn't insult the audience's intelligence either, with Esmail resisting that temptation to explain everything away. If nothing else, it makes an unusually strong case for holding on to your physical media. 

Like 2022's White Noise, or even the more similar 80's cult classic Miracle Mile, Leave the World Behind deals with philosophical and existential questions resulting from such a disaster, especially the mistrust. It's in good company, despite conveniently withholding certain information and biting off more than it can chew at nearly two and a half hours. Thankfully the cast carries it, with talented actors squaring off in a genre they've rarely tackled.         

Green Book

Director: Peter Farrelly
Starring: Viggo Mortensen, Mahershala Ali, Linda Cardellini, Dimiter D. Marinov, Mike Hatton, Iqbal Theba, Sebastian Maniscalco, Von Lewis
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

If you're going to make a film set in the past or present that in any way touches on the issue of racism, it's best to prepare yourself. Make sure you have all your bases covered, do your homework, insure there aren't any inaccuracies and brace for the inevitable backlash. What the backlash will be or why it exists may as well be anyone's guess, but when you tackle a topic as sensitive as this and it's based on a true story, at least some controversy is inevitable. Peter Farrelly found this out the hard way upon signing on to co-write and direct Green Book, a film detailing the bond that develops between a renowned African-American  pianist and an Italian bouncer when the latter serves as the musician's driver and bodyguard for his 1962 Deep South concert tour.

Covering a shameful part of U.S. history while keeping a relatively light tone in the face of its deadly serious subject matter was enough to raise eyebrows in a year that saw Black Panther and BlackKklansman nominated for Best Picture. That it was made by the director of Dumb and Dumber  and drew comparisons to Driving Miss Daisy would seem to be the final straw, until it actually won the top prize on Oscar night, defeating films considered more progressive and a better indication of where we're culturally headed. If rumors are true, Farrelly's picture turns back the clock to when Hollywood was only capable of telling the stories of black people through white characters, and a show of support is akin to a vote for the establishment.

Of course, none of these aforementioned points have anything to do with the movie Green Book. and when you actually sit down to watch it, that all turns into background noise. It's not that the controversy should be casually dismissed, but rather it becomes a major distraction when trying to form even the most subjective opinions on the film. That it's inspired this much debate is a credit to the picture, but eventually you reach a place where even that needs to be shelved in order to examine what's directly in front of you. Some may wonder what all the fuss was about, as the most noteworthy thing about it just might be how competently made and inoffensive it is.

Frank "Tony Lip" Vallelonga (Viggo Mortensen) is a New York City bouncer working at the Copacabana when he gets word that the nightclub is temporarily closing for renovations and he'll need to find a paying job for the next couple of months in order to continue providing for his wife, Dolores (Linda Cardellini) and their young kids. So when a call goes out looking for a driver, Tony arrives for an interview above Carnegie Hall to meet a man referred to as "Doc." The doc in question is African American pianist, Don Shirley (Mahershala Ali), who's looking for a driver and bodyguard for his eight-week concert tour through the Midwest and Deep South.

Hailing from what seem like entirely different worlds, the refined, cultured musician hires the tough talking Italian from the Bronx, with the record label supplying Tony with a copy of the Green Book, a guide specifically detailing all the motels, restaurants and gas stations that will serve African Americans. They clash almost immediately as the awkwardness of the foul-mouthed, bigoted Tony cheuffering a highly educated black man through the Deep South in the '60's is matched only by their wildly differing dispositions. But as the trip progresses, they start to find a common ground, as Tony is impressed by Don's talent as a musician while simultaneously being appalled at the treatment he receives by the racist white audiences he performs for.

If plenty of comparisons have already been made to a reverse Driving Miss Daisy in terms of both plot and tone, the road trip aspect of the story actually comes closer to recalling Planes, Trains and Automobiles, minus the two former means of transportation. There are many moments and extended sequences that tackle the racism Don faces at nearly every stop, but a lot of the picture frequently consists of scenes of them arguing and offending each another, like a bickering odd couple of sorts. It's here where the script does actually resemble a more traditional Farrelly project, even if no one would ever think to confuse it with a conventional comedy.

That those scenes co-exist alongside more unnerving ones involving racism in which Don is bailed out of potentially volatile situations by Tony have lead to complaints about this being the latest example of Hollywood's "white guilt," or perceived inability to tell stories about African American characters unless it's filtered through the heroics of some kind of white savior. But that doesn't seem fair in this case since this is one of those rare cinematic interpretations of "true events" (co-written by Tony Vallelonga's son Nick) that gets most of its facts right, to the point that it was even approved by the two protagonists before their recent passings. And despite recent complaints from Don Shirley's family that their relationship to him was misrepresented or accusations that Don's homosexuality is brushed under the rug, neither of those issues seem particularly relevant to the film or what it's about. Especially the former, which isn't even really addressed enough to warrant such a negative reaction.

Through Mahershala Ali's performance, we recognize that this a story as much about identity as race, with Don having earned the respect of white society as a musician of considerable talent, worthy of playing their parties if only so they can feel more cultured and refined. But the second that playing ends, it's clear he hasn't earned that respect from them as a human being because of the color of his skin. He can't eat at the restaurants where he performs or use their bathrooms, and he also feels like an outsider at the predominantly black "Green Book" motels at which he stays since his station in life differs so drastically from theirs.

Everything from Ali's posture, to how succinctly he speaks each word is not only meant to reflect an individual with impeccable class and intelligence, but someone repressed and hurt enough to use it as an armor to deflect the prejudice he encounters. Playing Don as outwardly cool and composed, Ali just barely lets us see through the cracks to the suffering, which makes it all the more difficult to watch. Tony has no identity crisis, as he's unapologetically himself in the most blunt, abrasive way possible, often to his own detriment.

Tony's bigotry comes mostly from ignorance, but even he has to draw the line when he sees how disrespected his boss is, accurately assessing that if Don is permitted to perform in these establishments, it's insane that he's forbidden to sit and eat there. Transforming himself by adding more than a few extra pounds and a Bronx accent, Mortensen's portrayal of Tony is definitely one of his more entertaining turns if only because we've never seen  the actor, who's known for darker, more intense roles, tackle anything so over-the-top before. He becomes the perfect foil for the more subdued Ali, who feels more like the film's true lead, regardless of how they were categorized during awards season.

That most were ready to tear this effort to shreds sight unseen doesn't mean it isn't still a fairly predictable, crowd-pleasing picture that recalls a simpler time in Hollywood when no one was afraid to rock anyone's boat when handling potentially delicate material. Farrelly doesn't take risks or push any buttons in delivering a satisfying, heartwarming story that confronts racism, sometimes powerfully. And while most of that power comes from the performances, the one thing that's been lost in the conversation is the film's actual quality, which will ultimately have the final say in determining how well or poorly Green Book will age. Even if the reaction it's garnered may build the best argument yet for the Best Picture Oscar as a snapshot of the year in which it was released. For better or worse.  
 

Burning Questions from the 2019 Oscars

Is it strange that after watching Bohemian Rhapsody, a "real" Queen performance felt somewhat disappointing?

Can it be a "real" Queen performance with a certain member missing?

Doesn't Adam Lambert have some big shoes to fill?

Was it intentional that the stage look like Donald Trump's hair?

After the first montage, were you worried that that's how they'd fill time without a host?

Were you relieved when Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Maya Rudolph came out?

Did everyone breath a sigh of Oscar pool relief when Regina King won?

Does it make you (me) feel old that Regina King is now playing a grandmother?

Now that she has an Oscar, do you think she even cares?

Already keeping the censors busy on the second award?

Tom Morello introducing Vice?

Were you thinking Black Panther upsetting in Costume Design an omen for things to come?

Did that feeling double when it won production design?

Surprisingly, are you starting to feel the absence of a host?

But isn't the show moving along for a change?

Isn't that RBG song kind of awful?

Aren't all of Diane Warren's nominated songs?

Serena Williams?

Can we to assume the Academy didn't see last year's U.S. Open Final before inviting her?

Aren't you glad we weren't lectured again on the differences between Sound Editing and Sound Mixing?

8 awards given within the first hour?

This has to be some kind of record, right?

Aren't you just waiting for the show to suddenly come to a screeching halt and drag so it can end after midnight?

Should we start considering now whether Roma winning for Best Foreign Language Film helps or hurt its Best Picture chances?

Does Michael Keaton presenting remind me how he should have won for both Birdman and at least been nominated for The Founder?

Why did I let anyone talk me into to picking Vice for Editing?

How awesome was it that Laura Dern came out to the Jurassic Park theme?

Other than Bohemian Rhapsody, is Spider-Verse the 2018 film that most exceeded expectations?

Isn't that Buster Scruggs song, um, different?

Is it some kind of cruel joke that my power went out before Brie Larson presented?

Is it another cruel joke that Sam Jackson had to present the Original Screenplay Oscar to Green Book?

Didn't he look thrilled when it won?

Is Spike Lee ever going to win an Oscar?

Did they turn that f****ing clock on?

So, was that Gaga/Cooper performance any good?

Was it yet another cruel joke that my power came back in time for the In Memoriam montage?

I didn't miss Mike Myers and Dana Carvey...did I?

Was that the most subdued In Memoriam segment they've ever had?

Isn't that how it should be?

Did you see everyone fly out of their seats when Rami Malek name was read?

Do they like that guy or what?

Doesn't this feel like as much a win for Freddie Mercury as it does for Malek?

Isn't that proof that the right person won?

Think USA is kicking themselves for not ordering more seasons of Mr. Robot right about now?

Shouldn't Rami be glad they didn't?

Olivia Colman???!!!

Would anyone begrudge Glenn Close for being completely devastated?

Was she half out of her seat, paper in hand?

Do I look like a fool now for saying Close had her Career Achievement Oscar all locked up?

Doesn't everyone?

Did this just single-handedly ruin everyone's chances for a sweep in the Oscar Pool?

Honestly, wasn't it ruined way before that?

Best Director, already?

ABC has to be pleased with this abbreviated show, right?

Are you thinking "We'll see when the ratings come in?"

Didn't it just feel like there would be a Best Picture upset before the winner was even read?

Green Book??!!!

Why does it suddenly seem like we've taken a time machine back to 1989?

Do you think Spike Lee threw a tantrum?

If anyone's throwing a fit, shouldn't it be Glenn Close?

Have I ever done this poorly on my predictions?

Does this mean we're in for our annual conversation about overhauling the Academy...again?

Was the show really that short or did it just seem that way because I lost power halfway through?

Does this mean we'll actually get some sleep?

Can this host come back next year?

Many Burning Questions from the 2017 Oscars

Wouldn't issues with the show's length be helped by starting even just a half hour earlier?

Boy, they're really getting the nominated songs out of the way early this year, aren't they?

Shouldn't we just be happy they're getting performed on the show at all?

Isn't JT's Trolls song annoyingly catchy?

Remember that year the telecast had more musical performances than the Grammys?

Did you totally expect a La La Land opening?

Even though the Globes did it already?

How long did it take Kimmel to make a political joke?

Wasn't his Great Wall dig at Matt Damon pretty funny?

Forget about Trump, wasn't Streep's ridiculous nomination the real elephant in the room?

Didn't the audience actually look like they were having a good time for a change during Kimmel's monologue?

How long did it take you to remember Alicia Vikander won the Supporting Actress Oscar last year?

With that speech, didn't for Mahershala Ali prove he deserved the night's first standing ovation?

Academy-Award winning Suicide Squad?

Did those winners for costume and makeup just drain a whole lot of Oscar pools?

Don't those categories screw everyone each year?

Did you catch Bill Paxton in that Rolex ad?

Were you still holding out hope that they'd get him into the In Memoriam montage?

Was 2016 O.J.'s year or what?

Is anyone bothered that it really isn't a documentary?

It's been brought up before, but shouldn't The Rock host the Oscars?

Isn't amazing that Lin-Manuel Miranda somehow squeezed into the Oscar race also?

And that he's one victory away from the EGOT?!

Aren't the Original Song nominees fairly strong this year?

Isn't it great we actually get to hear all of them?

What happened to that plan to spend less time between awards to speed things up?

When Kimmel talked about food, were you worried Ellen Degeneres would start delivering pizzas?

Um, so what's the difference between Sound Editing and Sound Mixing again?

Over an hour in and no Oscars for La La Land?

Wasn't it nice of Mel Gibson to bring his daughter to the ceremony?

Shouldn't there really be a casting Oscar already?

Aren't the classic clips of previous winners a great idea?

Who can possibly forget Mark Rylance beating Stallone last year?

Don't you wish you could?

How about that Michelle Williams scene?

Is Jeremy The Critic thrilled she keeps repping Dawson's Creek by bringing Busy Phillips with her every year?

Was Viola winning the certified lock of the night?

Did she scare you with all that talk about cemetaries and dead people?

Speaking of death, weren't you just dying to see a short film based on a Walmart receipt?

Who knew Charlize Theron was such a big fan of The Apartment?

Shouldn't they have more segments during the show with actors discussing their favorite movies?

Isn't that better than doing it... during the nominations announcement?!

Should we be happy or disappointed it took this long to get to an overtly political speech?

Didn't you know it would come during the Foreign Film category, no matter who won?

Could Sting's song be any shorter?

After Gael Garcia Bernnal, were you thinking it's now "game on" with the political stuff?

Were you thinking we could have an interesting night on our hands if La La Land doesn't win for Production Design?

When it did, were you thinking the landslide has started?

Wasn't that whole tour bus bit simultaneously disturbing and train wreck entertaining at the same time?

Didn't Kimmel's wisecracks save it?

These tourists sure like sticking phones in celebrities' faces, don't they?

If you're Meryl Streep, Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, or Denzel Washington, are you secretly or (in Jennifer Aniston's case) not so secretly petrified?

How about that guy who fist bumped Mahershala Ali?

Is my night (and entire year) made seeing Michael J. Fox come out of a DeLorean to a standing ovation at the Academy Awards?

Not a question, but you guys better freakin' stand up!

Did you catch how ecstatic Brie Larson was?

Could life get any better for Seth Rogen right now?

Best Editing award isn't the Best Picture predictor it used to be, is it?

Did you catch them openly acknowledging no one's seen any of the nominated short films?

How about that mean tweet about Felicity Jones and Eddie Redmayne having "the same face?"

Or, my personal favorite, Casey Affleck being the real life version of Billy Bob Thornton's character from Sling Blade?

Were you glad Stone and Gosling got to present together since they've been so underexposed these past couple of months?

Even listening to just snippets of those musical scores, isn't La La Land's clearly the best?

Relieved when Jennifer Aniston mentioned Bill Paxton?

If you were told a year ago Carrie Fisher, Prince and Anton Yelchin would be in the In Memoriam montage, would you believe it?

Did Sara Bareilles give the best In Memoriam performance in years, or what?

Wasn't it the perfect match of song and artist? 

Was Kimmel fondly reminiscing about We Bought a Zoo the most hilarious gag of the night? 

Is Ben Affleck really in a position to join in mocking it?

Doesn't Kenneth Lonergan kind of resemble Grumpy Cat?

Wouldn't it kind of be a travesty if Moonlight didn't win that Adapted Screenplay Oscar?

Did you know that Damien Chazelle was set to be the youngest Best Director winner ever until the show ran too long?

Think I waiting all night to see my favorite Academy Award Winner, Brie Larson, take the Oscar stage again?

Even if she looked like she'd rather see any name on that card other than Casey Affleck's?

Did you see Ben struggle to keep it together after his brother's speech?

Did you remember Leo (finally) won the Oscar last year?

Just based on the clips, doesn't something seem horribly off with Natalie Portman as Jackie Kennedy?

Didn't Streep appear to be embarrassed by that clip?

Can you really blame her?

Doesn't it seem harder than ever for one movie to sweep, even with 14 nominations?

Aren't there too many Best Picture nominees?

Isn't it great to see Faye Dunaway and Warren Be.....

WAIT...WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!!!!!???

Warren Beatty read the wrong winner?!!!

How is that even possible?!!

Didn't you just know something was wrong when you saw that guy with the headset scrambling on stage?

How could they give him the wrong envelope?!

Didn't La La Land producer Jordan Horowitz handle that entire situation better than anyone could be expected to?

Could he have possibly shown any more class in that moment?

Did that make more of a point than any political statement all night could have?

Jimmy Kimmel's speech at the show's start about being kind to each other doesn't seem so silly now, does it?

Aren't you glad someone took charge of that situation before it got even more awkward?

Wouldn't Moonlight winning Best Picture be shocking enough on its own?

Didn't Kimmel handle also handle that about as well as any host could?

Did you like Kimmel's shout-out to Steve Harvey?

Even after Warren explained it, did you still not understand how that could possibly occur?

Do two Best Picture speeches mean we won't finish on time?

Does this mean we can go back to liking the now suddenly underrated La La Land again?

So, does this mean we have to hate Moonlight now?

Did La La Land just score a victory that means more than a Best Picture Oscar?

Was this actually the best possible thing that could have happened to that movie?

Doesn't that and the growing resentment toward La La Land's many nominations prove how much of an albatross winning Best Picture can be?

How does it feel to witness history?

Aren't you glad you stayed up?

Was going to bed early the Oscar equivalent of turning off Game 6 of the 1986 World Series?

So wait, this means I got Best Picture wrong AGAIN?

Would I be satisfied if I kept missing categories under circumstances this thrilling?

Is Kimmel the only Oscars host of the past decade who's truly earned a permanent invite back?

Does this mean I now have to eat my words after initially complaining he was selected?

Do PricewaterhouseCoopers wish they could take that DeLorean back to about 10 minutes before the Best Picture envelope was opened?

How could THIS possibly be the lowest-rated Oscar telecast in 9 years?

Flubs aside, wasn't this actually a really well-produced show?

Wasn't this the Oscars we were all hoping we'd eventually get?

Moonlight

Director: Barry Jenkins
Starring: Trevante Rhodes, André Holland, Janelle Monáe, Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, Jharrel Jerome, Naomie Harris, Mahershala Ali, Jaden Piner
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

He never stood a chance. This was the first thought that raced through my mind at the end of Moonlight, which chronicles the life of a young black man from the rough streets of Miami as he passes from childhood to teenager through young adulthood. Well that, and the fact that what happens to this boy is probably something that's fairly realistic and could easily be going on every day. In fact, it's fair to say someone's living out a life nearly identical to this shy, withdrawn, emotionally damaged protagonist right now. This, of course, is just speculation since the hardest thing to do when watching a film is to fully immerse yourself in a world with which you have zero familiarity. By its conclusion, that changed.

Based upon Tarell Alvin McRaney's unproduced 2003 play, In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue and divvied up into an orderly and effective three-part structure by writer/director Barry Jenkins, it's one of the easiest hard movies to watch, if that makes any sense at all. Much of that is due to the quality of filmmaking and the performances, a couple in particular. Some may quibble about the third section and where it all eventually ends up compared to how it began, but it feels logical and true. And that's more than enough.

Chiron (Alex Hibbert) is nicknamed "Little" for both his size and meek personality. Looking to escape bullying at school and the emotional abuse of his crack-addicted mother Paula (Naomie Harris), the frequently silent Chiron finds himself taken in by Juan (Mahershala Ali), a local Miami drug dealer living with his girlfriend, Teresa (Janelle Monáe). Becoming a father figure of sorts to the boy, he teaches him how to swim while dispensing valuable life advice he'll never receive at home. He also finds a friend at school in Kevin (Jaden Piner), who nicknames him, "Black" and talks to him when seemingly no other kids will.

In his teen years, Juan is now gone, but Chiron (now Ashton Sanders) somehow soldiers on, unsuccessfully, with Kevin (now Jharrel Jerome) still in the picture. The bullying and his mother's addiction gets worse and an incident occurs that changes the course of his life, leading into the third section, where an adult, physically transformed Chiron (now Trevante Rhodes) is a drug dealer on the streets of Atlanta when he gets an opportunity to reconnect with Kevin (now André Holland), a diner cook still residing in Miami. Very clearly traumatized by his hellish childhood and adolescence, Chiron contemplates the opportunity to reach out to the one person left who truly understands him, with a secret they share both simultaneously standing in the way and bringing them closer.

Segmented into three chapters, it's almost inevitable that strong opinions exist as to which is best. But it's a credit to Barry Jenkins that it never feels like a contest, as each seems like a large, important piece of the puzzle in terms of constructing this person's life. But what everyone can unanimously agree on is that while the character of Juan is only in the first section, the presence of Mahershala Ali never fades even long after he's left the screen, informing every event that follows and never quite disappearing from memory. This might be the very definition of a great performance. When someone isn't in a film long or even heavily featured through much of it, and they leave such an indelible mark that it's like they've never left. I'm not even sure it hits us all at once since his actual exit occurs off screen, but it noticeably affects the teen Chiron and carries over into the adult section, which couldn't exist without Ali's performance. It really isn't until later that we start feeling the magnitude of his absence.

Juan's essentially the first person we meet when the film begins and it's obvious from the get-go that he's a force. As kind, charismatic and benevolent he is on the surface, and as much as he cares for this child, we must reconcile the fact he's also his mom's drug dealer, and perhaps indirectly responsible for their traumatic home life.  One of the film's most devastating scenes is when young Chiron himself innocently comes to that realization and this mixture of shame and guilt comes across Juan's face, reducing this previously strong man to the point where he just wants to crawl into a hole and hide.

Despite fairly minimal screen time, Ali (known to most for playing lobbyist Remy Danton on House of Cards) leaves an imprint of humanity on the story that carries over, allowing audiences to accept what eventually becomes of Chiron, taking the most flawed of his childhood hero's qualities as his own. Without this, seeing him as a jacked up drug dealer resembling rapper 50 Cent would be a bridge too far for audiences to cross. It's mostly because of Ali that we're not only able to cross it, but completely believe. But before even getting there, it's the emotional turmoil of the second section, and quiet desperation of Ashton Sanders as the teen Chiron, that provide the film's most uncomfortable, tension-filled moments, as he's viciously bullied by both his own drug addicted mother and kids at school. "Bullied" may actually be too light a word.

Naomie Harris is so brutally committed in the role it's almost difficult to watch, recalling the worst/best of Monique's Oscar-winning performance in Precious. This whole section's hard to watch, yet impossible to take your eyes off of, wondering if the shy Chiron will eventually stand up for himself. What happens when he does has far-reaching consequences, in many ways creating a monster. And the worst part of it is that an argument can easily be made that this was a necessary reaction, inevitable and inescapable.

The only constant source of hope is his relationship with Kevin, to some some degree ironing out the sexual confusion he's had since he was a child, if not necessarily the repression. Tough enough as it must have been growing up with those circumstances in that neighborhood, the compounded pressure of knowing he's gay, or really different at all, couldn't have helped. But Jenkins' story isn't about so much about that as it is people being forced, through circumstances beyond their control, to become someone they're not, but were invariably meant to be. That's why the third section of the film is so powerful, with Chiron reuniting with Kevin twenty years later and at very different places in life. Though, not really.

When diner cook Kevin, subtly and outstandingly played by Holland, remarks to Chiron that "This isn't you" he's somehow both right and wrong. Now going by "Black," his physical appearance is jarring and his drug dealing profession seems at odds with the quiet boy we met at the beginning of the picture, but all this pain had to eventually manifest itself in some way. What's both sad and strangely reassuring is how you still sense that the scared little kid Juan taught to swim is very much present, perhaps even more so, as an adult. He's just found a method for not dealing with it.

There's no sense sugar-coating the fact that this film, exceptionally made as it is, is a tough sell. Of all this year's the Best Picture nominees, Moonlight may have been the one I had the least interest in watching, quickly writing it off from its trailers and commercials as an awards-baiting liberal message movie formulated as a direct response to last year's #OscarsSoWhite controversy and the recent political climate. Boyhood, but with a black, homosexual protagonist. Luckily, most didn't go in nearly as close-minded as I. But if you did, the good news is that Barry Jenkins should no problem winning you over. From the performances, to cinematographer James Laxton's glorious handheld camerawork to Nicholas Britell's delicate musical score, it's a top-to-bottom achievement that's nearly as big a deal as you've heard. The toughest part is getting people see it based on description alone.

The biggest surprise about Moonlight is how universal it feels despite all those external forces that should seem to make it a very specific film capturing a very specific experience. And how all of this socio-political garbage disappears once it begins. It's just about a kid who's completely lost. Simply, powerfully, it's about how certain factors shape you and sometimes there's no escaping the person you'll become because of them. Change seems nearly impossible when the wounds cut this deep. So often at the mercy of where we grow up and how, sometimes the best we can do is survive by making superficial adjustments.