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 (021718)
Long after the marketing dust has settled and every pundit, blowhard and
Facebook friend has weighed in on it in terms of race, class, gender, identity,
representation, Hollywood, politics, the president and these contentious times
in which we live, there will be this: "Black Panther" is one heck of a potent
superhero film.
Sure, the heavily anticipated big-screen debut of Marvel's first black
superhero, created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby more than a half-century ago,
comes freighted with all sorts of cultural expectations. But, beyond that,
director/co-writer Ryan Coogler ("Creed,"
"Fruitvale Station") has created a remarkable film that stays within the
strictures of the big-budget superhero movie - including a hiss-worthy villain
and the dreaded, CGI-saturated third act - but athletically pushes against the
boundaries with grace and skill. I am more than happy to report, then, that not
only is Black Panther a superlative representative of the Marvel model, in terms
of acting and script, but also a film where the central conflict is more
human-scale, with social relevance that resonates beyond the confines of the
narrative.
Chadwick Boseman (2016's
Captain America: Civil War) plays T’Challa,
Crown Prince of the fictional African nation of Wakanda. As we learn in an
opening expositional voiceover, a meteorite made of “vibranium” (strongest
element on earth!) crashed into the present-day site of Wakanda eons ago,
leaving a massive deposit of ore that, ever since, has powered that nation’s
development of a technology far beyond any other on the planet. The management
of that secret treasure falls to T’Challa, as the eldest, at the death of his
father, the King, though his younger sister Shuri (Letitia Wright) – a brilliant
scientist – oversees the gadgets and gizmos. Part of the family’s legacy is that
whoever rules also holds the power of the mystical “black panther,” which grants
superhuman strength, and more. And so T’Challa settles into his new role – after
surviving a ritual challenge from a local chieftain – and prepares to rule his
kingdom.
Unfortunately, trouble arrives quickly on his doorstep, in the form of a rival
named Erik Killmonger, played by a magnetic Michael B. Jordan (2015's
Creed), an American mercenary in league with a
vicious South African named Ulysses Klaue, played by Andy Serkis (normally a
motion-capture actor known for roles like Caesar in the recent Planet of the
Apes films). Together, they hope to steal the Wakandan technology and take over
the world, although it soon turns out that Killmonger, though violent, has a
more noble agenda. Killmonger has long been disturbed by the fact that Wakanda
does nothing with its fantastical science other than protect its own and hide
from the world. Millions of Africans suffer, and have suffered in the past,
while this tiny country could have, with a fraction of its power, saved them.
This has to change, he says.
Part of what makes Black Panther such a compelling film is its complicated
villain. Killmonger is not wrong to long for a better world for his brothers and
sisters. His methods are flawed, and his unstable personality makes him an
imperfect vehicle for the message, but he has a point against which it is hard
to argue. Boseman, equally strong as T’Challa, wrestles with this moral dilemma,
worried about what exposure might mean to his homeland. Of such complex conflict
is worthy drama made.
Jordan is one of the most exciting, dynamic actors working in Hollywood, and he
brings a vulnerability and sadness to Killmonger that elevates him above the
standard mustache-twirling Marvel baddie. He’s so good at engendering your
sympathy that one might yearn for a bit more mustache in his performance, but
that would fundamentally alter the film’s affecting final scenes back in
Oakland, California. This is a film comfortable with its complexity, confident
in its politics, and unafraid to allude to sometimes-grim truths about race
relations. Killmonger’s introduction in particular is a master class in how to
both touch on what really matters and satisfy the popcorn urge simultaneously.
In a way, he’s the true conscience of the movie and the one who speaks to the
collective anxiety of the black man and woman in 2018, while T’Challa and Lupita
Nyong’o’s Nakia are our glittering ideal.
The rest of the cast easily hold their own against the two leads, including
Lupita Nyong’o (2016's
The Jungle Book) as Nakia, a warrior princess
who is T’Challa’s main love interest; Danai Gurira (Michonne on AMC’s The
Walking Dead) as Okoye, the head of Wakandan security; Daniel Kaluuya (2017's
Get Out) as W’Kabi, a disgruntled prince; the aforementioned Wright and Serkis;
and Martin Freeman (Bilbo in the recent Hobbit films) as a CIA officer who
unexpectedly finds himself fighting alongside T’Challa and his family. Everyone
has talent on full display, and their easy rapport – whether as friends or
enemies – is a joy to watch.
The only element that I found subpar, is the final Panther vs. Panther fight
scene. It's over reliance on using CGI for the two combatants was distracting.
Once the fists start flying, the CGI characters seemingly turn to rubber and
never seem human. It's disappointing, considering in Coogler''s previous film
Creed he took the well worn boxing match trope and breathed some much
needed visceral energy into them. The fight scene in Black Panther looks like it
was placed entirely in the hands of the effects crew. It robs that scene of some
of its sense of triumph.
Director Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station) does a fine job creating a cinematic
world that makes sense within the rules established in its first scenes. He and
his cinematographer, Rachel Morrison, give us images of great beauty, with a
consistent design, throughout. The film, at 140 minutes, is long, though it only
rarely feels so. Maybe more importantly, this is one of the precious few
multi-million dollar blockbusters from a major studio that does not feel like it
was made by committee. Instead, most of the time Black Panther delivers a
masterful new take on the superhero origin story, fresh in its perspective and
energetic in its plotting and the vision of a real film-maker.
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