A vibrant and engaging tale of archetypal conflict, Black Panther emerged as a significant cultural event in not only Black representational art, but in the American cannon of cinema as a whole. A movie that invoked feelings of wonder across generations, it redesigned and upgraded the typical action hero story as an Afro-futurist, utopian drama. Millions of black families made trips to watch the film into a significant affair; wearing coordinated outfits in support of the movie’s aesthetic flair. The fictional nation of Wakanda, whose lush green landscapes and crisp, vivid imagery, inspired a generation and reopened a century-long discourse on the ideal role of black internationalism in the global sphere. While there are significant flaws in some of the details of the movie, it served as an important moment in society’s imagining of black cultural expression.

The movie opens with a brief synopsis of the set of events that created Wakanda and led to the crux of the movie’s mission; the problem of vibranium, an indestructible element that Wakandans are tasked with protecting. Wakanda, seen as a sort of Eden for African intellectual excellence, is the tucked-away home to the Black Panther, named T’Challa. After his father’s death, he returns home to Wakanda to take his place as king, only to be tested by several powerful enemies. This conflict forces him to make a leadership decision that would forever alter the fate of not only his home but also the condition of the world’s powers. The story introduces a classic, if not cliché villain, Ulysses Klaue, an underworld arms dealer with a cavalier Afrikaans attitude (perhaps a comment on the political controversy of Afrikaners in South Africa). However, the more compelling antagonist is Erik Killmonger, a slick-talking army man from Oakland. The story jumps around from Wakanda to South Korea, offering aesthetically pleasing cinematic shots with an artistic flourish.

What is truly intriguing to me is how the movie dispenses with but also reinforces certain binaries with regards to African/African-American cultural diaspora. Life in Wakanda is simultaneously urban and rural, futuristic, yet agrarian, with an emphasis on both progress and tradition. With visuals such as spaceships shooting past thatched top-structures, viewers are certainly presented with different conceptions of Afro-futurism than often presented in major American films.  However, there are other ways that the film affirms certain simplified binary conceptions of racial politics that should not be taken as all-encompassing representations of black global freedom ideologies. While a portrayal of a “Third World” country having more advanced technology than “First World” countries is subversive, there are aspects to the rendering of African cultures as mystically and spiritually gifted that has roots in a more problematic portrayal of black characters in American fiction. The trope of the Magical Negro is a supporting stock character who often comes to the aid of white protagonists in a film. While certainly white characters are a minority in this film and black characters are the leading figures throughout the film, the romanticizing of black characters and their magical capabilities is certainly reminiscent of a troubling pattern. (A theme that becomes more notable when considering Black Panther within the context of the Marvel machine). As for what Wakanda could represent; it seems to be more of a powerful symbol for the African American imagination than any tangible idea; not unlike the concept of Ethiopia in Harlem Renaissance-era concepts as the home of African excellence. Ultimately the movie pushes a moral that in order to progress as a society, one must lift up other nations and share successes.

T’Challa sermonized near the end of the movie, “’In times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers”.

This statement is a beautiful sentiment, however, it fails to sufficiently acknowledge the more insidious history of European powers colonizing and stealing resources from African countries for centuries. Further, the tension between Killmonger and T’Challa creates a false dichotomy of perspectives in Black liberation theory, posing that there are only two possible schools of thought. Not to mention, the movie fails to acknowledge the role of Black Caribbeans in diasporic dialogues. There are many holes one can poke in the theoretical arguments that Black Panther puts forth, however, as a film, I’m not sure its purpose was to address these concerns. The strength of the film is not in its commitment to an accurate portrayal of the contours of Black Freedom, but rather the first of many steps to both a broader discussion of black politics and the role of representation in films as a whole. So, the movie doesn’t have to advance a revolutionary theory, as it isn’t marketed as a documentary, but rather, as an expression of cultural difference. As such, it marks a key moment in the Black American imagination and sparked important conversations about building global diasporic relationships.