Head of Reviews Robert Flynn revisits If Beale Street Could Talk (2018) and discusses why Barry Jenkins’ film deserves more recognition
Before Barry Jenkins’ If Beale Street Could Talk (2018), there was Moonlight (2016). The film propelled the American director to the most coveted stage in Hollywood: The Academy Awards. Going into the ceremony of the 2017 Oscars, Moonlight garnered eight nominations and won three, including Best Adapted Screenplay and, of course, Best Picture. It was the first film featuring an entirely Black cast to win Best Picture, and the second ever Best Picture winner to be directed by a Black director. By all measures, the success and acclaim of Moonlight was a watershed moment of racial progress in Hollywood. However, this totemic moment began to feel hollow after the academy neglected to recognise Jenkins’ next film, If Beale Street Could Talk (2018).
In many ways, Jenkins’ Beale Street was seen as an improvement on the director’s previous film, from a directors standpoint, and was heralded by some as one of the most moving and poignant films of the decade, let alone in 2018. The films of many white auteur directors like Paul Thomas Anderson or Martin Scorsese will often receive a slew of Oscar nods regardless of their level of acclaim or success. Unfortunately, Jenkins was not greeted with the same degree of hospitality. Barry Jenkins’ adaptation of James Baldwin’s ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ only received two nominations in 2019, including Best Score for Nicholas Britell and winning Best Supporting Actress for Regina King. As a result, Beale Street has been absent in cultural conversations and film discussion in the subsequent years. Six years later, an argument for why Jenkins’ film is one of the most important films of the 2010s still deserves to be made.
The story of Beale Street centres itself around Tish (Kiki Layne), a 19 year old girl from Harlem whose husband Fonny (Stephan James) has been wrongfully imprisoned. After realising that she is pregnant with Fonny’s baby, Tish fights hard, alongside her family, for Fonny to be released. Tish and her family are forced to navigate the prejudiced legal system that towers over them, all while trying to earn enough money to fund their efforts. The formation of Tish and Fonny’s relationship is often intercut with the harsh realities of the present, reminding Tish of the beauty that was taken from her while also fuelling her determination to grant Fonny his rightful freedom.
James Baldwin’s novel is replete with character and detail and often doesn’t concern itself with plot. Within its 200 pages it contains no chapters and works more as a stream of consciousness from the perspective of Tish. She describes the challenges she faces as a Black woman in Harlem and details the small and specific idiosyncrasies of her loved ones. Baldwin’s singular and poetic writing explores the two extremes of love and hatred in Tish’s life. Tish expresses her hatred for the streets of New York and its unregulated racism, elaborating on the experience of being born into a city which resents her purely for the colour of her skin. Meanwhile, her pregnancy poses the interesting question; will her child’s experience be any different than her own?
Amongst her struggles, Tish experiences brief moments of love and support, even with strangers. Jenkins’ film focuses on this theme from Baldwin’s novel; the overwhelming power of love. This may sound treacly or cloying to some but Jenkins handles it with integrity and honours Baldwin’s novel appropriately. His characters stare down the lens of the camera in Jonathan-Demme-style close-ups that feel so confrontational and evocative. Jenkins’ camera aims to show the humanity and minute details in a person's face; the unique experiences this person has had and the deep connections they share with others. The image of love that is conveyed in If Beale Street Could Talk is not a typical love depicted on screen. It is a profound love that persists through the unbearable nature of tragedy.
The conclusion of Baldwin’s book is pointedly terse, haunting, and ambiguous. Jenkins uses this as an opportunity to fill in the blanks and to tie together everything that he has so far laid out. It is an ending that respects the reality of Fonny and Tish’s situation while also re-affirming the film's message of hope. It’s a film that explores the inherent difficulties of living a life as a Black person in America but it never restricts itself to one idea. It’s a film about our connection to strangers and how we each have a responsibility to care for one another and the value of persistence. Ultimately, Jenkins’ film is about how in the face of societal rejection we must “trust love all the way”.