Living under your father’s noose isn’t the subtlest metaphor, but Moonrise still manages to fumble what it’s trying to say about guilt and grace. On the surface it’s a moody small-town noir, all swamp fog and whispers, yet the story keeps asking you to forgive behaviour it never properly looks in the eye.
Danny and Gilly’s relationship is the main sticking point. He treats her badly more than once and puts her in real danger, but the film insists on framing it as a grand, tragic romance she must stay loyal to. Around them, the only Black character lives alone in the woods dispensing “wisdom” that even stretches to empathising with a rapist, and there’s a disabled character who mostly exists to soak up Danny’s anger.
Borzage clearly wants a tale of a wounded soul redeemed by love. What ends up on screen feels more like a pile of excuses, wrapped in pretty shadows and swamp mist.