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Where did Barry Jenkins feel safe as a child? At the top of a tree

Where did Barry Jenkins feel safe as a child? At the top of a tree

A note of Joker host Rachel Martin: It’s virtually impossible to watch a Barry Jenkins film without emotionally changing. You can’t watch the scene from the Oscar-winning movie Moonlightwhere Juan teaches Little to swim without seeing all the humanity of these two characters – the fragility, the strength, the despair and the love at the same time.

Barry Jenkins never aimed to make films for the general public. He’s a champion of independent cinema telling stories about black life in America – from a film about a one-night stand in San Francisco in the early 2000s to the limited series based on Colson’s book Whitehead, The Underground Railroad.

But that’s the problem with art and cinema in particular. However specific the experiences reflected on screen, if the story is told as truly as possible – as authentically as possible – the work transcends boundaries. It will mean different things to different people, but it will mean something. And Barry Jenkins has made films that matter in the most profound ways.

So when I tell you that Barry Jenkins is directing the new Disney movie, Mufasa: The Lion Kingmaybe you need to take some time out, because this is the independent filmmaker taking a big turn in the completely opposite direction. But remember that Barry Jenkins wants his films to leave an emotional imprint on us. And if a little “Hakuna Matata” doesn’t make you feel joy, then I don’t know what will.

This Wild Card interview has been edited for length and clarity. Host Rachel Martin asks guests questions randomly selected from a deck of cards. Press Play above to listen to the full podcast or read an excerpt below.

Question 1: Where would you go to feel safe as a child?

Barry Jenkins: I grew up very poor – in the world you see dramatized in Moonlight. And I lived in this housing development – ​​I think it was built as barracks, probably for soldiers – and then became public housing.

Martine: It’s Miami, we should say.

Jenkins: It’s in Miami, exactly. And in the middle of this complex, there was an old laundromat, like a wash house. And it was this one-story structure, maybe 20 feet by 10 feet. But it had a flat roof and a massive tree above it. And I remember as a kid, if things were too heavy or there was too much going on, I would go there and climb out the window and get on the roof, and then I would jump on the tree and I would I rushed to the very top of that tree – so high that if someone walked by they would never know anyone was up there. And I would just go up into this tree and kind of listen to the sounds of the day. I just want to clear my head. And I think I would stay up there until I felt ready to re-enter the world or re-enter my life. I haven’t thought about it in a long, long time because the idea of ​​me climbing trees now is crazy. But yes, that’s what I would do.

And it’s interesting, later in life, when I was a teenager, I would sometimes take long walks and find these empty houses with fruit trees in the yards, you know, it’s Florida, it’s Miami — grapefruits, avocado trees. I guess I climb trees a lot. I climbed trees to feel safe.

Martine: And to get perspective probably. I mean, there’s something about rising above the noise of life and difficult things.

Jenkins: Yeah, it’s weird. Maybe there’s a version of this: you’re trying to avoid all these different things, but I think solitude can also be very empowering. And to refocus in some way before entering into the rigors, the demands of daily life, especially this life, because it was a lot for a child to manage.

Question 2: What do you still think you need to prove to the people you meet?

Jenkins: Because of where I come from and what I do, there’s always this version of me that feels like I’m not enough, you know? That I must constantly prove, reaffirm my capacity, my value, my merits. And so, every time I walk on set, I walk into a conversation like this – and it sucks because it’s the antithesis of real communication and connection – is that I bring this voice in the back of my head that feels like, “I’m I’m just not good enough.” »

The flip side is, you know, it keeps me very motivated. I try to express myself fully, I just try to be unquestionably affirming, of value, of merit – just of merit. And I think that’s something that will always be with me, unfortunately, because I don’t think it’s something that adds value.

Martine: Haven’t you noticed that this has lessened over time?

Jenkins: No, no, no, I didn’t. I made this film If Beale Street Could Talkwhich is an adaptation of James Baldwin. And there’s this great quote that we put in the film. It’s straight from the book: “The children were told they were worthless and everything around them proved it.”

It is, on the one hand, a very beautiful and beautiful book, but also a very angry book, rightly angry. And something of this sentence remains in the back of my mind. And for some reason, I feel like I’ll always work in the opposite direction to disprove that, you know? That I’m worthless. And so that’s it. So I’m going to give you honest answers, Rachel Martin.

Question 3: Do you think there is order in the universe or is it chaos?

Jenkins: I think it’s chaos. Really. I have to believe it.

Martine: Wow. People usually give the completely opposite answer – that there is order because they have to believe it – because the alternative is very troubling.

Jenkins: The alternative is troubling. But there’s also something quite beautiful about it. I believe that the universe is chaos and that our role in it, which I think is the beauty and agony of life, is to make sense of it and try to create order, but to do it ethically, to do it in a way that is spiritually balanced.

I truly and fully believe that, because if the universe was completely a situation of order, I think my story, you know, I’m the descendant of African slaves – what order gave rise to this path? This is certainly the result of complete chaos and horror. But I think we can take that chaos and create something pretty profound. Really.

Christopher Polk/Getty Images / Getty Images North America

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Getty Images North America

Screenwriter Tarell Alvin McCraney (left) and writer/director Barry Jenkins (right) accept the award for best adapted screenplay for “Moonlight” onstage at the 89th annual Academy Awards at the Hollywood & Highland Center on February 26 2017 in Hollywood, California.

I mean, Rachel Martin, it’s December 2024. You’re going to tell me that the last five years on this planet, you know, have been orderly? They were more than chaotic. I mean, beyond. And when we go out and create work – when you do these interviews, when I create these films – I think we’re all trying to have conversations, a dialogue, to make sense of all this chaos, to show that we are We all get there in our own way and we just do our best.

Martine: Indeed. And I think when people give the opposite answer – that there is order – it’s their projection of order that makes the chaos manageable. You know?

Jenkins: It’s true. I have to be honest and say that most people who come on the show – myself included – come from extremely privileged places. Not all of us, but quite a few of us. And I can never really sit in that place.

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