The Sins of the Father — The “Black Panther” Review
By: Brandon T. Daniel
Tags: Movies, Fiction, Black Panther, Diversity, Marvel

Marvel’s Black Panther has been riding first-class on the vibranium hype-train since T’Challa debuted in Captain America: Civil War. That train only picked up speed with his own installment, which finds us tuning in one week after the events of Civil War, wherein T’Challa is returning to Wakanda to participate in their ancient ascension ritual. The crowning rites and what it means to bear the “crown” form the foundation upon which we build our view of Wakanda.

Director Ryan Coogler quickly and efficiently builds the world of Wakanda through fly-over shots of the deceptive countryside and into the farce of a jungle that gives way to the technological marvel that is Wakanda proper. Ludwig Goransson scores the movie beautifully (Killmonger’s Theme is “mood” music for 2018) and rumor has it that he’s fully scored the FOUR HOUR DIRECTOR’S CUT (Marvel’s gotta come up off that). The costumes, designed by Ruth Carter, are on full display at the Warrior Falls; combining the traditional with the futuristic to provide us with an aesthetic that celebrates the diversity of the African continent. Small things like the Wakandan Salute (right-over-left -always-) and the subsequent “Bankhead Bounce” have become memetic following the release of this film, testament to just how much it could be “For The Culture” while still approved by the Almighty Mouse.

T’Challa’s portrayal in Black Panther differs immensely from what we saw in Civil War. There, the soon-to-be-king was hell-bent on exacting revenge for the assassination of his father. His screen-time was dominated by saying and/or doing badass things. In his own film, we are given a T’Challa who is not defined solely by his anger: He is a brother, a son, and heir-apparent whose approval ratings look like Obama’s when he first got into office (unless you’re the Omeg-…I mean…Jabari Tribe). His much cooler demeanor and role as a reactive chief protagonist almost made us snatch back the “badass” nameplate necklace.

But behind every strong Black Panther is a [host of] strong Black women.

Shuri (Letitia Wright) and the aforementioned Nakia play the little sister and love interest, respectively. If T’Challa was losing any edge from his previous appearance, these women add their own shine to really round him out. Special recognition goes to Shuri for being the 16-year old STEM goddess, while also being the queen of memes, roast sessions, and pop culture. She brought the expected comedy present in every Marvel film from an unexpected place.

Super special recognition goes to Okoye (Danai Gurira), the General of the Dora Milaje. Not only does T’Challa have squad of “Grace Jones lookin’ chicks” (do your googles, kids. That joke was peak comedy) as his personal bodyguard, but they’re led by Okoye, who absolutely captured my gaze whenever she was on screen. It hit me during my first viewing that watching her was like watching a cobra dance for a snake charmer: her movements were hypnotic and sensual, while thinly veiling lethality just beneath their surface. She was bald, beautiful, and badass…Triple Bs, word to Lavar.

Black Panther also has antagonists who stole the show effortlessly. Andy Serkis reprises his role as Ulysses Klaue from Avengers: Age of Ultron. Klaue, with a brand of what I call “dirty charisma,” made me feel as if I was watching a future Connor McGregor whenever he graced the screen. Honestly, he could’ve dropped a “Fook Maywedda” every time he shot his sonic cannon and I wouldn’t have flinched. Combined with his golds and a soundcloud link to his mixtape, Klaue was a standout with a relatively small role. M’Baku (Winston Duke) is arguably the greatest breakout actor in this film. The 6'4 Tobagonian was both intimidating and entertaining as he led the rest of the Ques in a hop to Atomic Dog and showed up late to the party and caused a ruckus (I have no doubt in my mind that they grill the best chicken in Wakanda…even if they’re vegetarians).

While I genuinely loved Black Panther, there are some areas that I found the film to be lacking, namely the CGI and the fight scenes. While CGI brought the city of Wakanda to life, for a movie with a $200 million dollar budget, they just…didn’t look great. Scenes heavy on the CGI suffered the most (*coughfightinthevibraniumminecough*) and overall it detracted from the movie as a work of art.

Even though the action pieces in the film were enjoyable, I couldn’t help but feel like the ones I cared about the most were the ones without CGI/Black Panther’s suit. The final fight on the plains where we find T’Challa facing down W’Kabi and his blankie boys could’ve been a masterful piece of choreography. We could have had the Black Panther tearing through the snuggie squad like Master Ip versus that school full of fighters aka like a badass. Instead we got *Sonic Boom* and *Sonic Boom* followed by a completely unexpected *Sonic Boom*. Insert the appropriate Street Fighter reference.

Now, I said I would avoid getting too “think-piecey.” I lied. Ya’ll should’ve known that.

Discussing the primary antagonist of Black Panther requires one to think…

The Killmonger Conundrum

“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster . . . when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes into you” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

A boy is orphaned by violence…

A boy dedicates his life to learning and training…

A boy, now a man, fights to make sure no one else has to live his nightmare…

Sound familiar? That’s the origin story of Batman. It’s also the origin story of Erik Killmonger.

Killmonger is the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s best villain. Full stop.

Michael B. Jordan tackles the role of Erik Stevens, a first-generation descendant of Wakanda, born and raised in Oakland, California. His father, N’Jobu, had taken a War Dog assignment in Oakland, where he has spent years under deep cover as a Black-American. The opening scene of the film, taking place in 1992, leads us to conclude that N’Jobu has thoughts of arming local Black-Americans as racial tensions continue to boil. He is the quintessential “Fight the Power” Black man in America, with a Public Enemy poster on the wall to boot.

And every boy wants to grow up to be just like their dad, yea?

Like T’Challa in Captain America: Civil War, Erik is motivated by vengeance after finding the body of his father with tell-tale panther claw marks. He hones his intelligence at MIT and his martial prowess in the military, taking on the moniker “Killmonger.” Unlike his cousin, Killmonger’s vengeance is two-tiered: He seeks the vengeance for his father’s murder by King T’Chaka and vengeance for children of the African Diaspora. While we can relate to his desire to avenge the death of a loved one, what truly resonates with this writer (being a Black-American) and many others belonging to that demographic is Killmonger’s desire to “level the playing field” between Black people and their oppressors (read as: give Black folk waaaay better weapons than everyone else).

Pretty solid plan right? Arm folks, overthrow current governments, and free people of African descent across the world. Dope stuff, yea?

Well, no.

“A story is an essay in action” — Just Write

The traditional argument is “Wakanda first” as touched upon in Wisecrack’s quicktake “Is Black Panther’s Killmonger the best villain since the Joker?” They only help Wakandans and shut their borders (and power) away from outsiders.

Killmonger presents a valid counter-argument: Wakanda has the means to help people who look like them be better off and, as Voltaire (and not that guy whose nephew can’t ever save him from getting shot) once said “with great power comes great responsibility.” They should aid children of the African Disapora and not leave them stranded in a strange land without any guidance…

…like a young Erik Stevens was.

This presents a Hegelian Dialectic across the course of the film. The thesis (Wakandan Isolation) vs. The antithesis (Black Liberation) are presented and Erik Killmonger spits some bars that strike chords within the souls of most Black Americans. While we love the idea of Wakanda; a land unmarred by the scourge of colonization, pristine and pure, we also know first-hand the centuries-long plight of Black people around the globe. The foot’s been on our neck for hundreds of years and it doesn’t ever let up…it just changes the kind’ve shoe it’s wearing.

And so the pendulum swings…between thesis and antithesis…

back…and…forth…

back and forth…

back-and-forth.

Until we realize that Killmonger only speaks of Black Liberation, but what he desires (in truth) is Black Imperialism. He would use what he learned from his oppressors against them and show them how it feels to be at the bottom of the food chain. While this might be the action that feels the best, it is not the best course to take. How you attain your freedom is as important (and it can be argued more important) than your freedom itself. Following Killmonger’s course would lead to fear; anger; hate; suffering;…and the birth of another Killmonger.

The Cycle would continue…

And therein lies our (and T’Challa’s) conundrum: How do we use our power to liberate the Black community without waging outright war against…well…everyone else?

“You Were Wrong. All Of You Were Wrong.”

There’s tragedy in the story of Erik Killmonger. He is a product of “The Void,” a place that The Atlantic’s Adam Serwer defines as “…the psychic and cultural wound caused by the Trans-Atlantic slave trade, the loss of life, culture, language, and history that could never be restored.” While Killmonger did not come to The Void like other children of the African Diaspora, he still felt the full effects of it:

The emptiness…

The disconnectedness…

The loneliness…

His journey to the ancestral plane reveals exactly how deep The Void has swallowed him: Unlike T’Challa’s open range of an ancestral plane filled with the spirits of the Black Panthers who came before him, Killmonger’s plane is the four walls of the apartment in which his father died. The only spirit within those four walls is that of his father, who Killmonger hardly cries for. Everybody dies around there.

While having committed villainous actions, I don’t think I could confidently call Killmonger a villain. The only villain I saw throughout the movie was one we face every waking moment of our lives: the villain of “choice.” N’Jobu chose to betray Wakanda in order to liberate Black Americans. T’Chaka chose to slay his brother and abandon his nephew. These fathers…their choices…their sins echo into the future, shaping their progeny and the world around them. For T’Challa, he rejects the notion that his father’s actions define him, while also rejecting Killmonger’s imperialism; He finds the golden mean between both arguments — Synthesis.

Killmonger, however, lets his fathers actions and the consequences that came with them shape the entirety of his being. With the guidance of his ancestry stolen from him, he focuses on his situation and the rage it begets. By the time he’s seen the folly in his extremism, he has allowed his rage to spill over and consume the land of his father: the fairy tale that is Wakanda consumed by internal conflict. He has brought the nightmare of his life back to the home of his father…

Upon finally seeing the beauty in the sunset his father spoke about, he knows that there is no place for him in Wakanda.

He has gazed too long into the Abyss…

And the Abyss gazed back.