Black Panther

Before I review the Ryan Coogler-directed Black Panther, let’s get something out of the way: I am a tallish, middle aged, middle class, college-educated, white male. One of my colleagues at work once referred to me as “a walking power structure,” the physical representation of everything that historically has given someone influence and privilege. So I acknowledge that I can never fully wrap my head around what it feels like to be underrepresented, to not have stories about people like me told or to not have the opportunity to tell those stories. 

 Black Panther is significant in terms of cultural representation because, while he is far from being the first black superhero, he is one of the first for whom blackness is an essential character trait, not an incidental fact. Panther’s alter ego, T’Challa comes from the fictional African country of Wakanda. He is also one of the first who is the main character and not a sidekick or comic relief. Black Panther is the star of this 200 million dollar film rather than just being on hand to make Captain America or Iron Man look good. And importantly, he is not a villain, a slave, a convict, a victim, or a drug dealer. Instead, most of the cast of Black Panther plays kings, queens, warriors, and leaders. While it has all the trappings of a Marvel superhero movie, it is definitively different than the mostly white, mostly American, smart-alecky slugfests of the past. That difference is valuable.

The film picks up just days after the events of Captain America: Civil War where Black Panther made his debut. In that film, T’Challa’s father is killed by an assassin’s bomb, and now the son must ascend to the throne. We learn that Wakanda, rather than being an empoverished, third world country, is actually incredibly wealthy and technologically-advanced with a rich cultural and political history. To keep their wealth and technology safe, Wakandans let the world think they have nothing. But of course, there are those who know their secrets and want it all for themselves.

 The film is largely about palace drama, and the parts of the film dealing with tradition and heritage as well as with T’Challa’s desire to be a good man and  a good leader are its most effective. Chadwick Boseman, who has played James Brown, Jackie Robinson, and Thurgood Marshall, knows how to play a character with power and dignity, and he brings a sincerity that’s rarely seen in Marvel movies. However, as good as Boseman is, he’s actually the least interesting thing about the movie. In particular, it is the women who surround his character who are the most compelling. Letitia Wright as his brilliant 16 year old sister, Shuri; Lupita Nyongo as Nakia a Wakandan spy and T’Challa’s former lover; Angela Bassett as Ramonda, the Queen of Wakanda and T’Challa’s mother; and Danai Gurira as Okoye, the captain of the royal guards are all excellent. I’d watch a movie about just them.  

The other standout is Ryan Coogler’s muse, Michael B. Jordan, as the villain, Killmonger. Marvel has been working hard in recent films to provide memorable, meaningful opponents for its heroes, and Jordan’s performance is a worthy effort. His villainy is driven by pain, loss, and betrayal, and Jordan makes that feel real and visceral. His hungry, wounded anger is a nice counterpoint to Boseman’s serene regality.

The film doesn’t ignore history either. Killmonger’s plan is to take over Wakanda and use its technology to arm oppressed black people across the world. His point is that people who “look like” him have only been kept down because they were never given the tools to rise up. It’s a surprisingly complicated and thorny idea for a comic book movie to address – is the answer to chronic, systemic oppression and violence more violence? Black Panther is exciting, fun, and at times, thought provoking. I’d tell you to see it, but you probably already have.