Moonlight and the Limitation of Masculinity
Going over Moonlight (2016) again, I’ve noticed Barry Jenkins recurring theme of showcasing Chiron’s (and Kevin’s) backs. In each act (from Lil, to Chiron, to Black) the has a long shot of the subject’s back. (Long Post under the cut)
Juan (played by Mahershala Ali) even comments on this in the fist act. Lil comes into his house and sits down at the table with his back facing the door. Juan re-seats him at the front of the table facing the door.
Juan states that in this new position, he can see everything. At this new vantage point, there isn’t anything hidden, or outside of Lil’s gaze.
A recurring theme in Moonlight is the construction of masculinity, how that construct is maintained and shattered. Within the Black community, a strong sense of masculinity is considered very important. A lot of black men work hard to maintain the illusion of strength (perhaps through working out, through gaining tattoos to make themselves seem tough, to rough language, to with holding affection from people they care about). These are all aspects that create a sense of masculine strength, but also cut off many aspects of life that only serve to enrich ourselves. When Black men give into a hardened, emotionless perspective of masculinity we give up vulnerability. We give up parts of our personalities that can enrich our interpersonal relationships with significant others, and children. Just like facing our backs towards the door limits our perception, giving into these hardened stereotypes of black masculinity limits our experiences.
Moving into act 2 (Chiron), we see those same “behind the back” shots when Chiron enters the school court room, and when Chiron and Kevin are intimate on the beach. The film lingers behind the subjects during these shots, almost as if its afraid of intimacy.
And in so doing, this limits the audience’s perception of Chiron (and Kevin’s facial expressions). Audiences can’t really gaze how Chiron is feeling in times of trauma because his back is turned, and Chiron can’t effectively gauge what challenges (good or bad) maybe coming for him. Take for a moment the scene where Chiron was on his way to Teresa’s house after school, Tyrell and his friend came up from behind Chiron to harrass him.
Take the scene where Chiron is on the beach, and Kevin comes from behind him, surprising. Now whether the surprise was good (as in Kevin showing up wit ha blunt for the two to smoke) or ill (Tyrell coming to threat Chiron’s person) each of these experiences began with Chiron’s back turned to the potential development.
When Juan told Lil about seeing everything in front of him, I’m more than certain he was speaking from experience. Juan, being a drug dealer probably knows about the dangers that happen when your back is turned. Not only that, Juan carries a gun with him in his own house. Which says to me that Juan is on guard all of the time. What kind of intimacy can a man have when he’s constantly on guard against a potential threat?
And this falls into the overall conditioning of Black men. We’re expected to be strong all the time. We’re expected to keep our emotions inside because any show of emotion is emasculating. That kind of conditioning only furthers to cut black men off from learning about their own emotional health and well being. It conditions black men to never let their guard down, even when they want to When Black reconciles with his mother, or when he reunites with Kevin. Both of those instances Chiron struggled to express himself in a healthy way and resorted to anger or defensive silence.
The way Chiron’s masculinity is constructed throughout the three acts is also interesting. Chiron’s masculinity (and yes, even his identity) is shaped by the three men in his life. Juan (the father figure) , Tyrell (the bully) and Kevin (the friend, and the lover).
Juan is a man Lil looks up to. In the last act of the film, Chiron (now an adult and dubbed “Black”) models himself after his paternal figure. He’s a drug dealer. He wears a doo rag. He carries a gun while in his car. He even has diamond earrings like Juan used to wear. It’s not uncommon for children to model themselves after parental figures they looked up. It is Juan’s image of masculinity that Black emulates.
While Juan may have been the person Chiron modeled himself after, it was Tyrell who propelled Chiron towards that end. Tyrell bullied Chiron for years, ever since they were little. In the beginning second act, it is Tyrell who refers to Chiron as “Lil”, a name Chiron hadn’t gone by since he was a kid.
And in that same scene Chiron corrects Tyrell. “My name is Chiron.” It is here that Chiron identifies himself specifically. He reaffirms his own name. He names himself. Takes hold of his identity, and masculinity. But Tyrell only returns to taunting Chiron, and calling him “Lil’.”
Kevin is interesting because he fulfills the place of friend and lover. He is the one gives Chiron the nickname “Black.” During the first act when they’re children, he is the one who advises Chiron to fight back against the bullies. During the beach scene, Kevin is the person who helps Chiron’s sexual awakening along.
In the second act, Chiron’s is at war with himself. He’s fighting to escape the young, weak child he used to be (Lil’), while dealing with the conditions that would ultimately turn him into the hardened man he becomes in act 3 (Black). Chiron in this sense is in the middle of these two conflicting images of masculinity. The emotional child and the emotionless man.
By the end of the second act, Chiron gives into the conditioning of his environment and smacks Tyrell with a chair. Afterwards he is arrested, and the film moves towards the final act.
Now, Chiron or “Black” has fully hardened himself and cut himself off physically and emotionally from his previous life. He rebuilt himself. And in so doing limited many aspects of his character. He has turned his back on the person he used to be. Much to the shock of both his mother and Kevin.
James Baldwin was a black writer often spoke about the limits that the world places on blackness. There is only so much black people are allowed to do, or aspire to be. And this is still prevalent in modern narratives. Take Red Tails a film made by George Lucas. Lucas had a difficult time creating the film due to its “all black cast” and many Hollywood executives refused to give it funding because “Black flims don’t sell.”
It’s not that Black films don’t sell, it’s that the global imagination can’t comprehend all of the layers and nuances that exist within blackness. And unfortunately, that lack of imagination is what makes black masculinity so stagnant. Chiron, throughout all three acts, is proof of that. He was once a sensitive young man, and by the end of the film he is a grown adult who is still trying to find ways to communicate on an intimate level. This masculinity Chiron has trapped himself in has limited his perception (a fate Juan warned about in the first act.)
We need to redefine what Black Masculinity is, and what it could be. Going over the history of black masculinity in America, you can understand where part of it comes from white projection (the idea that black men are dangerous criminals who want to harm white women) and black overcompensation (black men were often reduced to sexless children as a means of placating the white imagination, so many black people work overtime to prove their “toughness”).
I believe that we as black men can’t be so rigid in how we define ourselves. Real talk, there are people out there who believe “Moonlight” is just the “gay agenda” trying to emasculate black men. And that’s the kind of rhetoric that I see a lot in black circles (from churches, to forums, to youtube videos). And I’m still seeing black dudes pissed that Birth of a Nation isn’t on anyone’s radar, and they (partly) blame Moonlight for that. You know, rather than Nate Parker...but I digress.
Moonlight is a lot of things. It’s a story about identity. It’s a love story. But in this instance, it’s a cautionary tale.
If we keep our backs turned to alternate forms of masculinity, then we are erasing and entire layers of the black experience. Layers that only serve to enrich us as a community.