![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cjlasky7I really liked this movie. Not as much as other people do (I'll get into why later), but what Ryan Coogler and his team get right here is so much more important than any minor flaws. This is a groundbreaking movie, a fulfillment of the promise of the Black Panther character, an event over 50 years in the making.
Let's go back to July 1966.
The Civil Rights movement is in full force. The seeds of the Black Panther Party have been planted in Oakland (but the organization has yet to break through to wider recognition). And in this climate of social upheaval, the team of Jack Kirby and Stan Lee introduce a new character in the Fantastic Four, Marvel's flagship book: the Black Panther.
The Panther (and his backstory) is a first in a number of ways. He is the first African superhero. He is not a racist, stereotypical jungle primitive, but the king of his nation, with a brilliant strategic mind to go with his superpowers. (In Fantastic Four #52, T'Challa completely schools the FF, including super genius Reed Richards.) But most important of all, the Panther's home nation of Wakanda isn't some backwater deathtrap, but the most technologically advanced nation on Earth. This is a complete reversal of how white America thought of Africa at the time (and maybe still does today, to a certain extent). Kirby and Lee brought to American comics Africans with ultra-modern tech side-by-side with ancient traditions, Africans untouched by slavery or colonialism, but still dealing with the complexities of the (mostly hostile) outside world.
(You'll note that I'm giving Kirby top billing here. Wakanda fits in with the other techno-utopias in Kirby's work, like New Genesis in his Fourth World books, so I'm thinking Jack is mostly responsible for that aspect. OTOH, T'Challa's talent as a strategist falls in line with other Stan Lee heroes.)
All the conflicts and contradictions inherent in the premise--modernism vs. tradition, isolationism vs. engagement, superhero or king--have been there from the beginning. But it's taken writers who were more fully committed to tackling those issues to bring T'Challa to the cultural forefront:
Don McGregor and his "Panther's Rage" epic in the 1970s; Christopher Priest's 1990s update; and most significantly, Ta-Nehisi Coates' revolutionary work on the book over the past ten years, all adding richness and complexity to the outline provided in the original concept, and all dealing with the biggest contradiction of the series...
Wakanda is a fantasy. An Afrofuturist dream, untouched by centuries of oppression. But we don't live in that dream. What happens when Wakanda meets the real world?
This is the conflict that Coogler's film captures so dramatically. The main villain, Killmonger, asks: if Wakanda is such an advanced society, why hasn't it helped out the oppressed black people of the world? What price has the African diaspora paid to preserve this utopia? And the film basically tells us the man has a point. His methods to rectify that injustice are extreme, but he shakes the ruling class of Wakanda out of their complacency and brings them out of isolation.
But in order to make the conflict meaningful, you have to believe in the wonder and promise of Wakanda. Coogler makes you believe. Above all else, this movie is a titanic feat of cinematic world-building--maybe even greater than something like Star Wars, because you have to convince the audience that this nation exists on Earth, here and now.
So much fuss has been made about the amazing women on the screen, but Coogler had a female army BEHIND the camera, too, helping him build the world of Wakanda. Oscar noms please, for Ruth Carter's costumes, Rachel Morrison's cinematography, and especially Hannah Beachler's production design. She made each of the key locations in Wakanda--the Throne Room, the waterfall, the Jabari mountain stronghold, the marketplace, Shuri's lab--as inviting as your living room. A staggering piece of work. (I'd say I'd love to visit Wakanda, but I could think of no greater blight on that land than tourists.)
Of course, the women in front of the camera are nothing to sneeze at, either. They are the heart of the movie, the breath of life of Wakanda, and characters you want to revisit for however many sequels Marvel wants to make: Letitia Wright's Shuri, brilliant and impish, but deadly with a one-liner; Danai Gurira's Okoye, fierce, loyal, but somehow intensely vulnerable; Lupita Nyong'o as Nakia, luminous like the movie stars of old; and Angela Bassett as Ramonda, regal and commanding as ever. They each have their roles relating to T'Challa--sister, lover, protector, mother--but they are always themselves.
Which brings us to the gentlemen.
You've probably read all the articles about Michael B. Jordan already, about the swagger he brings to Killmonger. And all of that's true. But let's talk Chadwick Boseman for a moment, because he's got the tougher job. T'Challa is a tough nut for an actor, because he doesn't have the self-righteous fury of a Killmonger to drive him forward. At the start of the movie, T'Challa is very much a proponent of the status quo: orderly succession, keep Wakanda secure, etc., etc. He talks in calm, measured tones, as if all his royal training has ground the spontaneity out of his soul. But as we move along, his worldview gets shaken up--first by Nakia, then by M'Baku (Winston Duke damn near steals this movie), and finally Killmonger--and we can see his deep anguish as he realizes the depth of his father's sins and Wakanda's culpability in helping global evil win by inaction. T'Challa was trained to be a king--he has to carefully consider every action he takes as a king, no matter how small. This may seem dull next to firebrands like Killmonger or even wiseasses like M'Baku, but that doesn't mean T'Challa doesn't feel things as deeply as these other men. Boseman successfully takes us on T'Challa's journey, and when he speaks to the UN in the end credits, we know he's got all the ramifications mapped out.
********************
At the start of this review, I promised to do some griping, and gripe I must, as much as I loved most of this movie. There is just too much dragging down Acts I and III that kept me from enjoying this wholeheartedly.
First, the climactic battle scene. For the most part, I enjoyed the open field free for all, because I just thought Coogler laughed and said, "Let's throw all of Wakanda at the screen and let 'em hash it out." Despite the utter chaos, you still had a clear sense of which tribe was fighting on which side and their specific skills. You had Shuri and Nakia in action. The Dora Milaje nearly beat Killmonger. And W'Kabi surrendered to Okoye, a moment so ripe with sadness and regret that I can't believe we didn't spend more time with these two! (Coogler reluctantly cut their best scene. It'll be on the blu-ray edition.)
But the Panther v. Panther battle was a snooze, badly paced, bad FX, and T'Challa's best verbal shot of the evening--how Killmonger has turned into his oppressors--nearly got lost in the mix. Unfortunately, Coogler couldn't completely avoid typical Marvel Act III problems.
(Also, even though I enjoyed Martin Freeman in this movie, I really didn't need to see Everett Ross in action at the end. I know Coogler wanted to solidify him as an Ally of Wakanda, but watching Ross play video game pilot just clogged up the battle scenes even more. He should have stayed comic relief.)
My first act nitpicks are trickier to explain. For the length of the movie, I had no idea why Killmonger was hanging out with Klaue. In my view, Klaue should have been dead and in the burlap sack before the first minute of the film. After a discussion with shadowkat and a summary from CBR, I finally realized that Klaue was bait to lure T'Challa to Korea, where he would either 1) die horribly or 2) screw up Klaue's capture. Either way, Killmonger shows up in Wakanda with Klaue's bloated corpse a few days later, and the lost prince is taken back with open arms....
But I'm STILL not satisfied, not completely. Killmonger left a lot to chance here. I don't think he believed T'Challa could successfully capture Klaue, and the rescue/break-out struck me as an improvisation. What if T'Challa had given Ross a polite, well-enunciated "fuck you" and took Klaue back home a few hours earlier? T'Challa would be a hero and Mr. Killmonger would be left behind in Korea with his you-know-what hanging out.
The whole thing seemed to be a way to keep Killmonger on screen while Andy Serkis played an entertaining homicidal loon. Granted, one of the great pleasures of modern genre cinema is watching Andy Serkis play endearing homicidal loons (usually in mo-cap), but none of it seemed really NECESSARY. Maybe on re-watch, it'll seem less like padding.
********************
In the end, all nitpicking aside, the movie succeeds wildly in painting a picture of a new pan-African future, and the responsibilities and pitfalls involved in fulfilling that dream. When the UN representative in the end credits scene asks what Wakanda can give the world, the obvious answer is that amazing technology. But the answer for the real world--our world--is the movie itself. A chance to teach the world from a place of mutual respect and human dignity.
Let's go back to July 1966.
The Civil Rights movement is in full force. The seeds of the Black Panther Party have been planted in Oakland (but the organization has yet to break through to wider recognition). And in this climate of social upheaval, the team of Jack Kirby and Stan Lee introduce a new character in the Fantastic Four, Marvel's flagship book: the Black Panther.
The Panther (and his backstory) is a first in a number of ways. He is the first African superhero. He is not a racist, stereotypical jungle primitive, but the king of his nation, with a brilliant strategic mind to go with his superpowers. (In Fantastic Four #52, T'Challa completely schools the FF, including super genius Reed Richards.) But most important of all, the Panther's home nation of Wakanda isn't some backwater deathtrap, but the most technologically advanced nation on Earth. This is a complete reversal of how white America thought of Africa at the time (and maybe still does today, to a certain extent). Kirby and Lee brought to American comics Africans with ultra-modern tech side-by-side with ancient traditions, Africans untouched by slavery or colonialism, but still dealing with the complexities of the (mostly hostile) outside world.
(You'll note that I'm giving Kirby top billing here. Wakanda fits in with the other techno-utopias in Kirby's work, like New Genesis in his Fourth World books, so I'm thinking Jack is mostly responsible for that aspect. OTOH, T'Challa's talent as a strategist falls in line with other Stan Lee heroes.)
All the conflicts and contradictions inherent in the premise--modernism vs. tradition, isolationism vs. engagement, superhero or king--have been there from the beginning. But it's taken writers who were more fully committed to tackling those issues to bring T'Challa to the cultural forefront:
Don McGregor and his "Panther's Rage" epic in the 1970s; Christopher Priest's 1990s update; and most significantly, Ta-Nehisi Coates' revolutionary work on the book over the past ten years, all adding richness and complexity to the outline provided in the original concept, and all dealing with the biggest contradiction of the series...
Wakanda is a fantasy. An Afrofuturist dream, untouched by centuries of oppression. But we don't live in that dream. What happens when Wakanda meets the real world?
This is the conflict that Coogler's film captures so dramatically. The main villain, Killmonger, asks: if Wakanda is such an advanced society, why hasn't it helped out the oppressed black people of the world? What price has the African diaspora paid to preserve this utopia? And the film basically tells us the man has a point. His methods to rectify that injustice are extreme, but he shakes the ruling class of Wakanda out of their complacency and brings them out of isolation.
But in order to make the conflict meaningful, you have to believe in the wonder and promise of Wakanda. Coogler makes you believe. Above all else, this movie is a titanic feat of cinematic world-building--maybe even greater than something like Star Wars, because you have to convince the audience that this nation exists on Earth, here and now.
So much fuss has been made about the amazing women on the screen, but Coogler had a female army BEHIND the camera, too, helping him build the world of Wakanda. Oscar noms please, for Ruth Carter's costumes, Rachel Morrison's cinematography, and especially Hannah Beachler's production design. She made each of the key locations in Wakanda--the Throne Room, the waterfall, the Jabari mountain stronghold, the marketplace, Shuri's lab--as inviting as your living room. A staggering piece of work. (I'd say I'd love to visit Wakanda, but I could think of no greater blight on that land than tourists.)
Of course, the women in front of the camera are nothing to sneeze at, either. They are the heart of the movie, the breath of life of Wakanda, and characters you want to revisit for however many sequels Marvel wants to make: Letitia Wright's Shuri, brilliant and impish, but deadly with a one-liner; Danai Gurira's Okoye, fierce, loyal, but somehow intensely vulnerable; Lupita Nyong'o as Nakia, luminous like the movie stars of old; and Angela Bassett as Ramonda, regal and commanding as ever. They each have their roles relating to T'Challa--sister, lover, protector, mother--but they are always themselves.
Which brings us to the gentlemen.
You've probably read all the articles about Michael B. Jordan already, about the swagger he brings to Killmonger. And all of that's true. But let's talk Chadwick Boseman for a moment, because he's got the tougher job. T'Challa is a tough nut for an actor, because he doesn't have the self-righteous fury of a Killmonger to drive him forward. At the start of the movie, T'Challa is very much a proponent of the status quo: orderly succession, keep Wakanda secure, etc., etc. He talks in calm, measured tones, as if all his royal training has ground the spontaneity out of his soul. But as we move along, his worldview gets shaken up--first by Nakia, then by M'Baku (Winston Duke damn near steals this movie), and finally Killmonger--and we can see his deep anguish as he realizes the depth of his father's sins and Wakanda's culpability in helping global evil win by inaction. T'Challa was trained to be a king--he has to carefully consider every action he takes as a king, no matter how small. This may seem dull next to firebrands like Killmonger or even wiseasses like M'Baku, but that doesn't mean T'Challa doesn't feel things as deeply as these other men. Boseman successfully takes us on T'Challa's journey, and when he speaks to the UN in the end credits, we know he's got all the ramifications mapped out.
********************
At the start of this review, I promised to do some griping, and gripe I must, as much as I loved most of this movie. There is just too much dragging down Acts I and III that kept me from enjoying this wholeheartedly.
First, the climactic battle scene. For the most part, I enjoyed the open field free for all, because I just thought Coogler laughed and said, "Let's throw all of Wakanda at the screen and let 'em hash it out." Despite the utter chaos, you still had a clear sense of which tribe was fighting on which side and their specific skills. You had Shuri and Nakia in action. The Dora Milaje nearly beat Killmonger. And W'Kabi surrendered to Okoye, a moment so ripe with sadness and regret that I can't believe we didn't spend more time with these two! (Coogler reluctantly cut their best scene. It'll be on the blu-ray edition.)
But the Panther v. Panther battle was a snooze, badly paced, bad FX, and T'Challa's best verbal shot of the evening--how Killmonger has turned into his oppressors--nearly got lost in the mix. Unfortunately, Coogler couldn't completely avoid typical Marvel Act III problems.
(Also, even though I enjoyed Martin Freeman in this movie, I really didn't need to see Everett Ross in action at the end. I know Coogler wanted to solidify him as an Ally of Wakanda, but watching Ross play video game pilot just clogged up the battle scenes even more. He should have stayed comic relief.)
My first act nitpicks are trickier to explain. For the length of the movie, I had no idea why Killmonger was hanging out with Klaue. In my view, Klaue should have been dead and in the burlap sack before the first minute of the film. After a discussion with shadowkat and a summary from CBR, I finally realized that Klaue was bait to lure T'Challa to Korea, where he would either 1) die horribly or 2) screw up Klaue's capture. Either way, Killmonger shows up in Wakanda with Klaue's bloated corpse a few days later, and the lost prince is taken back with open arms....
But I'm STILL not satisfied, not completely. Killmonger left a lot to chance here. I don't think he believed T'Challa could successfully capture Klaue, and the rescue/break-out struck me as an improvisation. What if T'Challa had given Ross a polite, well-enunciated "fuck you" and took Klaue back home a few hours earlier? T'Challa would be a hero and Mr. Killmonger would be left behind in Korea with his you-know-what hanging out.
The whole thing seemed to be a way to keep Killmonger on screen while Andy Serkis played an entertaining homicidal loon. Granted, one of the great pleasures of modern genre cinema is watching Andy Serkis play endearing homicidal loons (usually in mo-cap), but none of it seemed really NECESSARY. Maybe on re-watch, it'll seem less like padding.
********************
In the end, all nitpicking aside, the movie succeeds wildly in painting a picture of a new pan-African future, and the responsibilities and pitfalls involved in fulfilling that dream. When the UN representative in the end credits scene asks what Wakanda can give the world, the obvious answer is that amazing technology. But the answer for the real world--our world--is the movie itself. A chance to teach the world from a place of mutual respect and human dignity.
