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Tag: kiki layne

  • ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ Stars KiKi Layne and Stephan James on Acting In One of the Year’s Best Films

    ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ Stars KiKi Layne and Stephan James on Acting In One of the Year’s Best Films

    Annapurna Pictures

    The story of a black man arrested for a crime he did not commit and the woman seeking to free him before the birth of their child, “If Beale Street Could Talk” offers a powerful portrait of hope under the bitterest of circumstances.

    Barry Jenkins’ follow-up to “Moonlight” adapts a 1974 novel by James Baldwin, whose fearless, poetic honesty has for decades given a deeply-needed voice to the black community and to the forgotten, mistreated and disenfranchised everywhere. Anchored by breakthrough performances from newcomers KiKi Layne and Stephan James, this creative collaboration brings together multiple generations of storytellers for a powerful experience that often feels unlike any other brought to the screen.

    Moviefone recently spoke with James and Layne about their work in the film, both under the watchful direction of Jenkins, as well as with each other. In addition to talking about the inspiration and clarity they drew from Baldwin’s source material, they discussed the challenges of charting the evolution of these two complex, intertwined characters, and finally, reflected on the ways that their solidarity through the adversity of the story — even arriving at something much less than a fairy tale ending – should be viewed as optimistic and hopeful.

    Moviefone: This is a story about people of color created from the ground up by people of color. How did this maybe feel unique among the acting challenges you’ve tackled before?

    KiKi Layne: What was unique was seeing these two young black people who are essentially soul mates. We don’t see too many stories like that where it’s something so much deeper — and that can’t really be explained between Tish and Fonny. I thought that was so beautiful. But because it’s written by James Baldwin, who had an ability to speak about social issues and injustices and such a special way, to see this beautiful love story but also this commentary on social issues interwoven so beautifully, that’s what makes this story so special and unique.

    Stephan James: It was different because it was Baldwin. It was the first time that anyone had adapted Baldwin for the English language, so I think that the cast and the crew, starting with Barry, really accepted the weight of that sort of responsibility and understood how important it was to accept his language and to live through his words, and if anything it felt different because of that.

    How did you map out that evolution of their maturity – the parallel lines of their happy times, and then the events that force them to grow up a little faster than they’re ready?

    Layne: A big part of navigating all of that was communicating with Barry. He helped me to better understand where is Tish at, and to navigate where Tish was at in what moments — what has she experienced up to that point? Am I speaking as the 19-year-old that’s currently going through all of these things, or am I speaking as the woman we see at the end of the movie who’s already been through it and has grown so much because of it? Barry was a big part of me navigating that.

    James: I was excited about the arc that Fonny was going to take in the film; you see him at his most joyous moments and at his darkest times. And it’s sort of a balancing act, that vulnerability with strength, and wanting to be strong in the face of my fiancée and trying to uplift her and support her, knowing that she’s carrying my unborn child. So, I think there’s that and not letting the situation that he’s found himself in tear him down too much. So for me it was a big balancing act trying to find strength when you know everything has sort of been taken away from you.

    How did you and Kiki find a way to maintain that connection between Fonny and Tish, even though you were separated for so much of the story?

    James: KiKi and I just sort of accepted the responsibility that — if anyone was going to believe this story — it would have to start with Tish and Fonny. So we decided together to let our guards down and be vulnerable and to try things with each other. I think that’s a big credit to Barry in terms of the environment that he helped to create in making us comfortable to explore each other. And KiKi is such a giving actress that it was easy for me to play off of her. We only really got time to hang out during the chemistry read that we had in New York before she had been cast, so we really had no time to develop the material and to dive in with each other.

    Layne: The way they set up the shooting schedule gave Stephan and I time to do lighter scenes towards the beginning of the shoot, and then those more difficult scenes in the prison and everything else after we had had more time to get to know each other. Steph and I really had an understanding coming into the project that the love between Tish and Fonny is the film, and to best serve that we understood that we would have to let some walls down a lot faster than a whole lot of people would be comfortable with. But Baldwin created such a beautiful and rich love story, and then Barry had such a beautiful vision for it that even in those really tough prison scenes and everything, it seemed to come more naturally by the time we got through them.

    Annapurna

    Was there something from either the script, or maybe even Baldwin’s writing, that you drew upon that informed you as you were sort of figuring out how this character would be portrayed on screen?

    James: I think it was everything. A scene that was cut out of the film was the scene where Fonny asks Tish to marry him in his apartment, and to me that scene sort of embodied everything that Fonny is — this emotional artist, at the end of the day. He feels and he describes things in a different sort of way. It’s not in the film, but it’s in the performance. And that’s the beauty of Baldwin, that he was able to give us so much sub-context in the novel for us to refer to. And I must have read [the novel] two or three times while making this film. So it’s an incredible piece of source material when you have someone who’s so transparent, brutally honest in the language. So to me it was an incredible thing to be able to adapt Baldwin.

    Layne: There’s one line in the book where Tish is kind of describing herself and she says people [think] she looks like she needs help – like she just had such a softness to her. I was like, what does that look like and feel like and sound like? Because that’s not how I come off at all. So I latched on to that aspect of Tish, and then started playing around with it — because she’s not weak. As I dove deeper into the character and the story, Tish is a very strong woman. So I had to figure out how do I communicate all of the strength that actually lies in her?

    Is there anything that you think Beale Street is exploring that other movies haven’t before, or maybe is especially in need of being given attention right now?

    Layne: Even though this film is based in the early seventies, we are still very much having so many of those same conversations and dealing with those same issues. I think what’s special about “Beale Street” is that it forces you to have conversations about these issues, not just from a place of facts and statistics but really talking about the humanity of these people who are experiencing this really unfair, painful situation. You are forced to really see them and everything that they are fighting for, which I think is often missed in how these stories are portrayed.

  • ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ Star Regina King on the Oscar-Hopeful’s Emotional Story

    ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ Star Regina King on the Oscar-Hopeful’s Emotional Story

    Annapurna

    The engine that drives “If Beale Street Could Talk,” Barry Jenkins’ adaptation of the 1974 novel by James Baldwin, is the relationship — and love — between Tish (KiKi Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James), a young woman fighting to free her unfairly detained fiancée before the birth of their child. But as Tish’s mother, Sharon, Regina King is that engine’s most important mechanic, brilliantly evidencing exactly where this young woman got the untold reserves of strength to fight against an unjust system and still remain hopeful about their future.

    In a particularly crowded field of amazing Supporting Actress performances, King’s work has drawn considerable and deserved praise, earning recognition from critics groups across the country, and receiving Critics Choice and Golden Globe nominations. As “Beale Street” arrives in theaters for audiences to experience its powerful story, King spoke to Moviefone about her incredible work in the film. In addition to talking about the inspiration she drew upon personally, professionally, and culturally for the role, she discussed her collaborations with director Barry Jenkins and her co-stars to bring the story to life, and finally, reflected on its bittersweet but absolutely essential message of perseverance and love.

    Moviefone: Talk about how this story is perhaps unique among the ones that you’ve helped tell in the past.

    Regina King: Well, the Rivers family — Sharon and Joe — as black people, we have a version of them in our lives somewhere – several versions of them, whether it’s a mother, father, aunt, uncle, grandmother. Because of that, I think we all infused a bit of those real people into our performances, and Barry infused those real people into his vision of how he saw of the story being told. Also it informed James Baldwin, and how he told the story. It started there. And that’s what’s resonating for a lot of people, because that person exists in other families, not just black families. And so often when you talk about another black man who has been in prison, he’s just looked at as a criminal and we don’t get to see the humanity, and that’s what you’re getting here. You’re fighting for Fonny because you get to see what he’s made of and where he’s come from. You’re fighting for Tish because you get to see what she’s a product of, and you’ve seen that somewhere in your life no matter who you are. And I think that’s why it’s resonating so strongly. I think a lot of people are seeing this movie and coming out and saying, “I’ve never looked at someone the way Barry makes us have to look into Fonny’s eyes. I’ve never done that before.” And some people are like, I had to look away, but then I had to look back. So that’s powerful.

    The moment you say “Yes, baby?” to Tish in the first scene where she is about to tell Sharon she’s pregnant… it exudes such a palpable understanding and sensitivity to what she’s going to say, even before she says it. Does that come from your preparation as an actor, direction from Barry, or just life experience as a parent hearing information from a child who seems reluctant to or nervous about confessing it?

    Honestly, a combination of all of the above. Just being a mother. My son and I, very early on, I told him: Even if you are concerned about disappointing me, you have to tell me the truth. Because if I don’t know the truth, I can’t fight for you. I can’t feel for you because I don’t know what to feel for. And I think most parents can relate to that. But did I think that just that line would affect people the way it has? No. That’s Barry understanding how he wanted that to be shot, and how he wanted to display the connection between mother and daughter. And while KiKi’s looking in the camera, KiKi and I aren’t looking at each other, but he makes me feel like we are looking not only at each other but through each other to you. And Barry did that.

    So you’ve got two actors that are prepared and have done their homework and studied this book, and the nuances of the characters that we’re playing. And me being a mother, and my life experience as a mom, my most favorite thing about myself is being a mom. I cherish my relationship with my son. So that lives in that moment, and then you have Barry, the captain of the ship, creating how we’re going to see all of those things come together.

    Annapurna Pictures

    Was there a passage from Baldwin’s book or a line of dialogue in the script that gave you particular insight into Sharon, or maybe inspired choices that you made in your performance?

    Honestly, it was not a particular line, but just in the way Tish describes her mother throughout the book.  Sometimes it would be, like, three pages that’s just Tish talking about her mom, and how her mom and dad met. And Baldwin writes that whole scene when she first tells her mom that she’s pregnant, and while she’s scared, somehow for me in reading the book, I felt like Tish knew, “Mom is going to make me feel okay.” And just the way he painted Sharon through Tish’s eyes made her feel like a hero to me. So just the way he painted Sharon through Tish’s eyes was all I needed, and all I would keep going back to.

    This film shows such a remarkable sensitivity and understanding to Victoria’s situation by these other women. How much of that was built into the dialogue, and how much of that was brought by you and the other actresses in terms of trying to be empathetic despite Fonny’s circumstances?

    It was equal parts of both. Some have actually had that experience unfortunately, so they’re pulling on real life experience — being there with someone who has experienced that and being sensitive to that. God willing, you can leave this earth and have never been violated sexually, but for those who have, and those of us who have stood with them to get through to the other side, it’s devastating. That pain takes your breath away. It’s debilitating. So we are sensitive about telling that story and knew that we had to take care and honor that pain, because it’s real. And Emily Rios [who plays Victoria] is such an amazing actress, and at that moment where she’s just standing up there on the hill and she’s looking in the camera, there’s no dialogue, you know the whole story just looking at her face and you know that this woman had had something huge taken away from her that she’ll never be able to get back.

    The scene between Sharon and Victoria in Puerto Rico is just so powerful. How do you work with another actress, or with Barry, to make each other feel safe when the moment on screen feels out of control for both of them?

    Well, it definitely starts with Barry creating a space that felt safe. We were shooting in a location that was not a built set. It was a really gnarly living situation for the people who actually live there. So as an actor, you pull on all those things — you use the environment — to help motivate the performance. Even with that though, we did not feel unsafe in that space, and Barry was so smart in finding the women that come and surround Victoria and take her off. Those women were real straight-up Dominican abuelas, and they gave me some looks. I don’t even think they necessarily knew what the work that they were a part of actually meant, but they would just explain to them “You’re coming to help this woman because she’s feeling not safe” — and the look that those women gave me? They were heartbreaking, like “I will cut you if you hurt her!” Barry gave them enough of the story that they were tapping into that protection that we as women have for each other in those moments. And knowing that a woman has been raped, knowing that a woman has been violated, it doesn’t matter what age or color you are, you’re coming to the rescue. And Barry created that so Emily and I were able to just fall into it and be Victoria and Sharon. Emily and Regina are gone in those moments. And we would not really speak much in between scenes, so that discomfort was palpable.

    There is a sense to me that this movie is more about perseverance than it is about aspiration. How positive or optimistic do you feel like this story is when it feels like it’s about the experience that people of color have to live with every single day of their life.

    And with that, being black in America, there are so many essays and interviews that you can see of James Baldwin and the passion and the fervor that he has when he’s describing what it is. But underneath all of that, it comes from loving being black, even though you are treated as if how you were born, how God created you, is a crime. But with that, we have persevered and we have made amazing accomplishments throughout history. And this movie — I feel like it is a reminder of how we have been able to persevere.

    And for those who did not know, now you know that — even with a knife in your back — we still find a way to laugh, to love, to dance. And it’s a beautiful thing that we get to show that. That we get to allow the world to really see us and see what we come from, and how we’ve been able to persevere.

    “Beale Street” is now playing in theaters.

  • ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ Review: Just Give Director Barry Jenkins All the Oscars Already

    ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ Review: Just Give Director Barry Jenkins All the Oscars Already

    Annapurna

    “If Beale Street Could Talk” is, profoundly, what happens when people of color get the opportunity to be authors of their own stories, fiction or fact, from the page to the screen.

    Barry Jenkins, director of the Oscar-winning “Moonlight,” returns with an adaptation of James Baldwin’s eponymous novel about a young man wrongly arrested for a crime he did not commit as his girlfriend prepares to give birth to their first child. This is not a story of false hope, easy solutions, or phony reassurance. Unlike those engineered to highlight exceptional achievement and celebrate triumphant moments in black history, as so many movies about race seem to be, “Beale Street” is a story of resilience, and perseverance about black people, the ordinary and average, as they try to navigate their way through a society that is — at best — indifferent to their place within it, but quite frequently, and in a story crafted from fiction but feels devastatingly authentic, proves much more hostile.

    Newcomer KiKi Layne plays Clementime “Tish” Rivers, a young black woman on the threshold of adulthood. In love with Alonzo “Fonny” Hunt (Stephan James) and in search of a place for the two of them to call home, Tish’s life is thrown into upheaval when Victoria Rogers (Emily Rios, TV’s “Breaking Bad”) accuses Fonny of rape and he is arrested. Further complicating matters, Tish discovers that she is pregnant. In spite of the support of her parents Sharon (Regina King) and Joseph (Colman Domingo), and sister Ernestine (Teyonah Parris, “Dear White People”), she learns that his family — save Fonny’s father, Frank (Michael Beach) — does not receive the news with similar excitement.

    Enlisting a white lawyer named Hayward (Finn Wittrock), Tish and Sharon work tirelessly to find evidence that will exculpate Fonny before their child is born. In between visits to Fonny in prison, Tish recounts the days leading up to his arrest, including an encounter with an old friend, Daniel (Brian Tyree Henry), which would provide him with an alibi if the authorities valued black witnesses. But when Victoria flees New York for Puerto Rico to recover from her assault with her family, Tish and her family are forced to decide how far they will go, and what cost they will pay to a biased, irredeemably prejudiced system, in order to prove Fonny’s innocence.

    Annapurna

    History has provided Hollywood with many stories to tell about blacks and whites overcoming their respective fears and prejudices and learning to understand and even love one another. These stories are illuminating especially for white audiences, frequently because they’re shepherded to the screen via white writers and directors, and predominantly focusing on a white protagonist. As a result, they seem to suggest that at each film’s end, racism is left in the past and enlightenment and tolerance gets taken forward into not just these characters’ futures, but our own. But that isn’t a feeling that many blacks may have, on or off screen, and “Beale Street” courageously gives voice to that lingering, indefatigable fear and resentment that in America, the system is not just corrupt but engineered against the possibility of them prevailing.

    It’s a movie that does not fail to account for the optimism embodied by black leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., but it also recognizes that those feelings are too often undercut or subdued by the back-breaking, dehumanizing effects of racism and a white majority that mostly is unaffected — and therefore goes indifferent — to the suffering that is endured by its black counterpart.

    Jenkins offers an inspiring portrait of strength and resilience — not just in the love shared between Tish and Fonny, but against the odds of his parents, a legal system predisposed to dismiss evidence that exonerates him, after making both of them victim of a society that does not want them to succeed. However, the movie is far from a polemic; rather, it’s a portrait of the memories and shared experiences that empowers these oppressed individuals to persevere and transcend their circumstances. Facing one setback after the next, a bruised and bloodied Fonny reassures Tish just at the moments when she expects that he needs it most, and vice versa; their belief in one another, and their love, is what sustains them even when the odds are stacked irredeemably against them both.

    But it’s also a movie dealing with topics in a sensitive and nuanced way that few other movies dare to spend their time. In her search for answers, Tish is young and inexperienced enough to question whether or not Victoria was raped at all, and Ernestine, reacting with dismay to that very suggestion, explains how she very reasonably chose not to be re-victimized after her assault. Later, Fonny has an extended conversation with Daniel about Daniel’s prison time — again, for a crime he didn’t commit — and Daniel communicates the abject fear and debasement he experienced in prison, something that Fonny later begins to understand during his time behind bars. As Miles Davis’ “Blue In Green” plays hauntingly in the background, Daniel’s experiences give sobering voice to the millions of incarcerated people of color who feel like victims of circumstance. People who simply want to survive, and are forced to draw upon reservoirs less of hope than desperation in order to escape with their lives and their sanity intact.

    Layne and James are a perfect pair as Tish and Fonny, the young but never naïve lovers, who find themselves in circumstances frighteningly out of their control. Tish is the younger of the two and must summon a fortitude she never expected that she would need, and Layne makes that a subtle but resonant transformation. James, meanwhile, oozes with a preternatural resignation to his fate as a black man in 1970s America — frustrated but resolute that the thing that will enable them to prevail is the certainty, and purity, of their relationship. The rest of the cast delivers unilaterally great performances — bringing to life a rich community of different experiences and perspectives born from the same struggle but earned through different coping mechanisms, be they the support of family and friends, the aid of religion, or the escape of drugs and alcohol.

    Annapurna

    But Regina King is deserving of special mention as Tish’s mother, a woman who with a routine “Yes, baby?” communicates an understanding of the news she’s about to hear, and the lived-in love of a lifetime of shared experiences – both as a mom and a black woman.

    Without spoiling its ending, Jenkins’ film doesn’t relieve the tension it’s built adapting Baldwin’s book, or provide this young couple with the sort of reunion, or resolution, that one would more conventionally deem “triumphant.” And yet the film proves triumphant all the same because against time and circumstance and adversity, and mostly without the help of any white people at all, Tish and Fonny’s love has endured — and most importantly, it cannot be stripped from them.

    Ultimately, “If Beale Street Could Talk” is an honest and complex portrait of black life, set in the past, but projected vibrantly onto the present day. It’s a movie that feels unlikely to make whites feel quite as good as they would ordinarily expect as they exit the theater — which is all the more reason for them to see it.