Issue link: http://digital.copcomm.com/i/831804
42 ber in it. He tells me to call him if I want to get into trouble, or if I get into trouble and need my ass saved. Eventually, Jesus comes out of a bright hallway and invites me into an ordinary dentist offi ce. He has caramel skin and light-green eyes and a big easy smile. I tell him I'm a big Hollywood make-up artist (LOL) working on a humble, but quality fi lm about a little boy grow- ing up in Liberty City, and I need gold teeth for the grown-up version of the main character (Trevante Rhodes). I need them in a week and at a discount, even though the actor is currently in New York. I even tell him that Brad Pitt is somehow involved on the production side of Moonlight and that it will be on a big screen one way or another, even if it's just at the artsy movie theaters. "The price is the price," he tells me, "if I go cheaper, so will the gold." I learn that this means the gold will look more yellow and less gold. A week later, I would wait for Jesus at a gas station to exchange money for gold teeth. I'm fl ying down the highway back to my rented studio, which reeks of cigarettes and sounds like the European discoteque I used to go to when I lived in Florence during the summer I turned 17. I contemplate giving up the communal pool, hot tub and big fl uffy dog Coco, to fi nd another place to stay; somewhere quiet and smoke-free. I stop at Whole Foods and buy an aroma- therapy diffuser and decide to stick it out because I don't have time to move, but mostly because I'm in love with the diner one block away. Jimmy 's diner is where Chiron and Kevin meet up as adults, but my relationship with the place starts way before that scene gets fi lmed. It's the end of the weekend, my room smells like lavender and cigarettes, and the sun is going down. Thunder rumbles and torrential rain pours out of a dark-grey sky as we all seek shelter in our shared workplace; the staple on so many low-budget fi lms. This particular shared workspace is a vacation motor home for a small family, in which the AD de- partment, actors, costumes, hair and make-up are all kept. Like I mentioned before, I'm a nonunion make-up artist so I fi nd this inspiring. It inspires me to fantasize about working out of a trailer one day that is designated only for hair and make-up. I sit on the little stool in front of the mini-Murphy table that Gianna Sparacino (Moonlight Department Head Hair) and I share, and I think about the forthcoming mission. The fi lming of Part One is almost complete. We just started fi lming Part Two, and Naomie Harris will soon break away from her James Bond press tour to spend three days with us so we can fi lm her coverage for Parts One and Two of our small fi lm. I've been thinking about her for weeks, planning out everything for her character's transitions in my head. The challenges are typical for me; no make-up test, no pre-fi tted prosthetics, a $700 bud- get for the fi lm, which has already been spent, and no time. Nao- mie's character, Paula, is based on Barry 's mom. The make-up has to slowly reveal her crack addiction and aging 20 years. I have one chance and one day with each of her looks, and I don't want to play it too subtle and regret not pushing it more, but I don't want to overdo it and offend Barry. He didn't say it out loud, but I pick up on the fears that he will face the following week when we shoot Paula's scenes. I'm wondering if the real Paula is still alive and would be watching Moonlight one day. I decide to express her struggle with empathy, but I'm not sure yet how that will translate to make-up. I'm not making a villain. I'm making a mother who had made some irrevocable mistakes. "You can do whatever you have planned, I completely trust in you," Naomie says to me when she sits down on the little hair and make-up stool. We have known each other for 30 seconds. Barry enters the Moho to meet Naomie in person for the fi rst time and when I consult with him about one of her looks, he contemplates for a few moments and says, "Donni, you know I trust you Ma." Trust from the director and the actor empowers me. I recall times where an actor has not trusted me. I am highly sensitive to what others feel and I know when I'm being doubted. Like a vampire needing to be invited into a house, I can get the job done either way, but I can do so much more if I receive that invitation. When an actor trusts me, she becomes a muse and this is where the qual- Previous spread, clockwise from top left: poster showing the metamorphosis of Little to Chiron; Alex R. Hibbert as Little; Chiron bloodied; Mahershala Ali as Juan with Hibbert; Janelle Monae as Teresa. This page, clockwise from top left: Monae; Trevante Rhodes as Black; Black's 'grill' up close; Naomie Harris as Paula, old and young.