The Perfect Man (2005)

I often speak about the importance of positive representation in films. The joy, validation, and critical examination that comes with seeing yourself onscreen is something that many privileged people take for granted. But rarely does a film go beyond representation and into an emotional resonance that places it in that peculiar art space where I love something that I can not view leisurely. I have only seen Barry Jenkins' Moonlight once at theaters upon release. Despite owning a digital copy, its release on streaming services, and a coveted spot as one of my most beloved films of all time, I am unable to watch it again in its entirety. It is so emotionally resonant for me that my empathy is incapable of watching it superficially. I know I will feel all the emotional depth of the film EVERY time. This places it in the same league as What's Love Got To Do With It, The Color Purple, and Lucky (2011). Even at the film theater, my best friend (another Black gay man) squeezed my hand throughout the film, nearly in tears from the nuanced portrayals.