Moonlight might be the best movie of the year. Critics have swooned over Barry Jenkins’ second feature-length film, which premiered on October 21. The film explores the trials and tribulations of a queer black man, Chiron, that struggles with his sexuality, family, race, and masculinity. It is filmed in three chapters: “Little”, “Chiron”, and “Black”. These chapters evaluate three distinct periods of Chiron’s life, and are portrayed by three different actors.

Moonlight thrives in its authenticity. The film does not lack conflict by any means, but it refuses to hit the audience over the head with a singular, definite message. Rather, it’s humanness is what makes it so unique. Movies often look so hard for a purpose or identity that once it finds one, the message seems insincere. So, here is a film that elicits a distinct sense of empathy while exploring an array of pertinent themes. How does one properly criticize a film like this?

A.O. Scott says in the last paragraph of his criticism of Moonlight, “I guess I’m back to where I started, trying to decide what this movie is about.” Scott clearly thought this movie accomplishes its object, but he’s not sure exactly was that object is. His analysis is not short on references- he compares the film to Ta-Nehisi Coates’s book “Between the World and Me”, James Baldwin’s book “Go Tell it on the Mountain”, and Richard Linklater’s film Boyhood. However, he does not seem to know how to contextualize this film in a satisfactory way that gives Moonlight’s potential audience a clear reference point as to what kind of movie they will watch.

Early in his review, he writes, “The nature and meaning of manhood is one of Mr. Jenkins’s chief concerns. How tough are you supposed to be? How cruel? How tender? How brave? And how are you supposed to learn?” This sounds like the start of a meaningful assessment on how masculinity is portrayed in this movie. An in-depth interpretation on this subject would be an enlightening article. In doing so, he could show people what distinguishes this movie from the run of the mill Oscar nominee, and the nature of how Jenkins frames and explores his subject matter.

Instead, Scott instead opts to touch on a plethora of themes in a scattered fashion. He talks about how the film comments on drug culture, blackness, adaptation, and the criminal justice system. Scott lacks the ability to do what this film has done so masterfully: ensure variety and originality without sacrificing coherence. The unconventional narrative and style of this film demands an unconventional assessment, and Scott fails in that regard. In saying too much, we derive so little from his writing

Conversely, Vince Mancini’s review gives a fascinating analysis of how Barry Jenkins’ previous work influenced Moonlight. Saris’ argument about auteur theory emphasizes the importance of evaluating the director’s body of work, treating the artist that constructed the film world as significant of a figure as the actors and actresses. Mancini guides the reader through Jenkins’ debut film, Medicine for Melancholy, which grossed just over $100K in the box office.

Having the background of Mancini’s bright spots and failures in this project gives Jenkins’ future audience context walking into the film. Medicine doesn’t develop a sense of who Micah, the hero of the movie, really is. However, Mancini contrasts this with Chiron, who also fails to verbalize his feelings. In Moonlight, this inability is related to “codes of silence” that are articulated in Chiron’s past, which the audience experiences during the first chapter. Mancini discusses recurring tropes that Jenkins emphasizes in his work like coming of age, identity, and gentrification. But, in Mancini’s writing we get a sense of the subtle narrative style Jenkins uses to depict these tropes, with some description of his stylistic tendencies mixed in for film buffs. He narrows his focus to what he notices is repeated during Medicine and Moonlight. But, the article is not overly narrow. Its assessment allows for deeper commentary combined with diverse talking points.

Most importantly, this article allows us to feel like we know Jenkins as an artist. This intensifies the audience’s personal connection to the film before they even see it. Jenkins is as interesting a character in his artwork as his main character, Chiron. We learn about his journey through his artistic past, and this information gives the readers another platform for discussion.

Mancini’s work passes the test for the formula for good criticism: knowledge + taste =meaningful judgement. We are treated to relevant comparisons with original opinions that show expertise. Background is essential in order to examine what specifically separates this film from other films that lack traditional narrative structures or traditional protagonists. Scott’s stream of consciousness writing shows taste; he is able to pinpoint essential themes in a well-written manner. But, it is hard to identify what exactly the reader gains from such a style. While Scott loses his arguments in the tangled web of the unorthodox, Mancini finds a niche that is informative in quantity and quality.