Moonlight (15)

A couple of days ago, and I know the rest of this sentence isn't going to make anyone's heart leap and sing with joy, a conversation took place on Facebook about Moonlight.

Apparently it was "middle-class" and failed to investigate the black experience.

Having just got back from seeing it, I'm not sure we saw the same film.

For a start, Moonlight doesn't set out to investigate anything - it simply tells a tale of a boy growing up, coming to terms with his sexuality, his mum's addiction, life as an outsider among his peers.

Moonlight isn't trying to be a hard-hitting film.

What it is is a powerful, subtle, majestic, beautiful piece of film making that takes you on an emotional rollercoaster.

The film is broken down into three clearly defined acts, each covering a key part of Chiron's life - with three different actors playing the parts of Little (Alex Hibbert), Chiron (Ashton Sanders) and Black (Trevante Rhodes) as he's known at each juncture.

The use of three different actors serves to underline the changes and growth of Chiron, without distracting you from the central narrative.

And all three actors put in stunning performances.

Little, as his nickname suggests, is the youngest Chiron who has to come to terms with the fact he may be gay and his mum (the utterly captivating Naomie Harris) is doing drugs.

His life is helped and supported by drug-dealer Juan (the superb Mahershala Ali) and his girlfriend Teresa (Janelle Monáe putting in another excellent performance), who step in and fill the void his mother is leaving.

Chiron, meanwhile, takes us through his troublesome school years and his first sexual experience.

When we meet Black, he's all grown up - living the only life he knows while struggling to deal with the ghosts of his past.

At every step, at every stage, you are hooked, captivated and moved by the events that unfold before you.

Each performance is note-perfect, delicately weighted and measured so no one person steals any scene or anyone else's spotlight.

And you believe in these characters, and you care about them.

Yes, Juan may be selling drugs, but we see another side to him, we are shown the human side - and so effective is the writing and performance that we genuinely care about what he is doing and experiencing.

To the extent that when he sees the collateral damage of his day job, you the viewer are as upset as Juan himself.

And this, surely, is a sign of great film making.

To create a character and a scene that moves you almost to tears, despite the fact you should have no sympathy for a man who is feeding people's addictions.

Equally, when Chiron enacts revenge on the creator of a hurtful betrayal you just want to stand up and cheer.

As someone who was bullied for most of his secondary school years, Chiron's tale is perfectly observed. His quiet persona, his air of troubled calm is simply sublime.

And as for what Black goes through, well...

There is no grandstanding here, there are no unsubtle flags being waved telling you what's coming up, there are no musical cheerleaders instructing you on what you should be feeling.

Instead, director Barry Jenkins has made the telling of a delicate, complex tale look simple.

Scenes move you, the story touches you deeply, and you emerge at the end glad to have spent time with these people.

There are no car chases, there are no shoot-outs, people don't talk in cliches.

There is just a tough tale being told with heart, compassion and empathy.

If you fail to be moved by this there's something wrong with you...