What “Black Panther” has to say (review)
I’ve always been an unapologetic proponent of the superhero genre, and believe they can explore contemporary social issues like any Oscar worthy think-piece. But probably due to the fact that they’re first and foremost popcorn movies, any potential message is usually hidden beneath layers of subtle parabolic sleight of hand, for fear as coming across as too (the dreaded) political. Most directors hope a savvy audience will just connect the dots, and then praise the filmmaker’s “progressiveness” after the fact. The X-men franchise didn’t come out loudly announcing it was actually a metaphor for the Civil Rights Movement, and neither did Thor: Ragnarok’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it acknowledgement that Tessa Thompson’s Valkyrie is bisexual make headlines until media outlet basically spelled it out.
However, Black Panther is on a whole other level, taking a much more direct approach and presents a socially conscious, racially infused superhero film. But honestly, would it have been possible for the first ever black superhero movie to not actively acknowledge what it, and its hero, represents.
Now, before you become a keyboard crusader and throw the likes of Blade and Cyborg at me, I need to make an important distinction: There is a difference between a superhero who is black, and a black superhero. A superhero who is black, like Blade, is not defined by his race. A black superhero, on the other hand, is intrinsically bound to his racial identity, becoming an expression of not just his superhero ideals, but also his race’s social and historical context.
Black Panther is the latter, brazenly stepping into the spotlight with something to say. And it says it with such bravado that you’d have to be utterly sensory deprived to not pick up on the films pro-black, pro-African message. Yes, this film does not shy away from some of the contemporary issues surrounding blackness, Africa, and African-Americans, but neither does it tiptoe around critical self-reflection and the role Africans have in deciding their own narrative. All the while the film never devolves, as some myopic folks would like to believe, into an “Us. vs-Them” diatribe.
We have director Ryan Coogler to thank for this. His short, but noteworthy, filmography proves he’s no stranger to thoughtful cinema and can easily navigate around the pitfalls of on the nose storytelling. With Black Panther he’s once again on form building an engaging story not just around the Black Panther himself, but also around Wakanda, the film’s setting, putting forth some interesting questions as to what such a country means, or could mean, in the larger scheme of things. In many ways Black Panther is foremost a piece of speculative fiction which becomes intertwined with a comic book aesthetic.
Wakanda, which unlike any other location in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), becomes its own character. Thanks to a vibranium — Marvel’s own super metal — meteor crashing into the fictional African nation thousands of years ago, the country was able to grow into a technological utopia. But when seeing how the rest of the world exploited Africa for its own gain, the Wakandans used their advanced technology to hide their country from greedy colonial tendrils, fearing what would happen if the world found out about its vibranium riches. Now, to the rest of the world, Wakanda appears like your stock-standard third world country while in reality it continues to thrive as a techno-paradise.
Having this fertile imaginative enclave to work from, the director, production designers, art directors, script writers, costume designers and rest of the crew, all set about to populate this space with as much creative fervour as possible.
The result is a film that is visually breathtaking and you can see the effort put into in creating Birnin Zana, Wakanda’s capital technopolis. It stands as probably the best visualisation of Afrofuturism in mainstream Hollywood, combining the sleek architecture of utopian inspired future cities, with a decidedly African influence. It serves not just as the films backdrop, but also as a defiant statement against representations of African cities as war-torn ghettos. It’s like a blank slate where, once history is upended, a new world can be imagined, free from colonialism and exploitation.
The characters that inhabit Wakanda are quite the assortment of good casting choices that reflect the strength of Coogler and Joe Robert Cole’s screenplay. First you have Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa, the eponymous Black Panther, a title bestowed upon a warrior whose task it is to protect Wakanda and its people. This task is made considerably easier thanks to a vibranium suit and the superhuman abilities granted to him when consuming a vibranium infused herb unique to Wakanda. Black Panther kicks off soon after the events in Captain America: Civil War where T’Challa’s father, T’Chaka the King of Wakanda — played by John Kani, whose short, but powerful presence in both films lends credence to the “no small parts” adage — was assassinated. The mantle of leadership now passes to T’Challa who, as per the hero checklist, is reluctant to take on the role.
Luckily he is surrounded by a trio of strong female advisors: Okoye (Danai Gurira) leader of the Dora Milaje, an elite all-female warrior regiment, Nakia (Lupita Nyong’o) an ex-lover and spy, and Shuri (Letitia Wright) T’Challa’s younger sister and the top scientific mind in Wakanda (and probably the entire MCU). While Wakanda is the skeleton on which Black Panther is built, these three women make up the beating heart of this film. It’s as if Coogler decided that filming one of the most ground breaking black-centric movies wasn’t enough, so he decided to include probably three of the strongest female characters outside of Wonder Woman. Gurira’s Okoye is especially imposing, and she manages to take charge of the scene either through impressive physical prowess or sheer commanding screen presence. The set-pieces involving Okoye and the Dora Milaje are some of Marvel’s best to date, and they set the standard for action set-pieces.
Then there is Michael B. Jordan’s Killmonger, the film’s villain. Jordan’s already shown his acting chops in Coogler’s Creed and the woefully overlooked Fruitvale Station, and here he manages to elevate the normally disposable villain role to some pretty impressive heights. You don’t remember Whiplash, you don’t remember Ronan the Accuser, but you’ll definitely remember Killmonger. He’s a surprisingly multi-layered tragic villain, whose character arc is the perfect critique to the seemingly utopian life of global isolation enjoyed by Wakanda. Killmonger is the distorted face of black pain, a character driven by hatred for a hateful world, yet one you find uncomfortably relatable. He’s the sins of the father taken shape, and forces some disconcerting introspection upon Wakandan rulers, as well as a need to re-evaluate the country’s place in the geopolitical arena.
So yes, Black Panther is politically charged, but that’s the reason why the film will have a lasting effect. It has something to say but it says it with such proficiency that both the message and the sheer spectacle of it all, work together in unison to elevate the genre to levels traditionally reserved for an awards darling. Whether the Oscars (yes, Oscars) will take note is another story, but some pretty good groundwork has been done by Get Out, so here’s hoping.