The great James Baldwin’s 1974 novel If Beale Street Could Talk has been adapted by writer-director Barry Jenkins (Moonlight) with tremendous reverence, as if trying to fulfill a sacred trust. This made me extremely anxious.

I admit that’s just me. Always had a problem with reverence. I blame all those gleefully impious Loony Tunes cartoons that comprised the basis of my childhood education.

Nobody else is likely to sit in the theater uneasily clutching the arm handles of their seat during the most beatific parts of this film. To get a quick sense of it, just imagine the closest thing to church music playing over images of an extraordinarily sweet and beautiful young black couple walking down New York City streets so lovely even the trash in the gutters is sanctified.