Black Panther Matters

As a self-professed superhero and general sci-fi nerd, one of the great occasions of any year is when a new Marvel Studios movie drops.  Captain America: Civil War was an opening weekend must-see for me.  The Avengers close to gave me palpitations.  But there’s a new addition to the Marvel canon that just opened, and it’s more than just a chance to see the fictional heroes of my childhood on screen and a rocking good adventure.  Black Panther presents deep themes and an alternative history, while posing the questions of what could have been and what still should be.

[SPOILER ALERT] Black Panther tells the story of T’Challa, king of the fictional central African nation of Wakanda.  Now, there are three things to know about Wakanda to appreciate what it is.  First, it is rich in natural resources, particularly a precious metal called vibranium–in the Marvel universe, the rarest metal on earth that has extraordinary properties, like dampening all force exerted against it (and a whole lot more).  Second, it is almost entirely isolated from everything beyond its borders, due to geography and Wakandans not feeling terribly interested in the larger world.  And, third, that isolation has both prevented Wakanda, its resources, and its people from being exploited by those coming from outside its borders and allowed Wakanda to develop unique culture, industry, and technology that might make it a superpower if it chose to use it all on a world stage.

Even as those characteristics suggest that Black Panther would damn imperialism of any sort, it also poses the question:  what if imperialism is used in the name of liberation?  What if those who have been downtrodden and subjugated can throw off their shackles with the weaponry provided by an unconquered neighbor?  Is it payback to outsiders for centuries of arrogance or releasing a dangerous genie from its bottle?  In light of western history and its references to Africa as “the Dark Continent” and the “White Man’s Burden,” though not specifically targeted to Africa (as well as the more recent narrative of non-European nations as “s—holes”), Black Panther turns that conventional history on its head.  Allowed to develop in peace and isolation and actually use its abundant resources for the benefit of its own people, Wakanda has become something extraordinary.

Because this is a superhero movie, there is, of course, a guy running around in a fancy costume kicking ass.  But, in quieter moments, T’Challa tries to decide how to use the power he wields—both personally and as the leader of Wakanda, even as he deals with his father’s and his family’s legacy.  (My thought is that it is Marvel’s nod to Hamlet.)  And one of the great realizations he makes is that race and creed and nationality and belief can’t justify marginalization. Black Panther tells us that, when you treat someone as unworthy, it comes back to haunt you.  Understanding and mercy are what everyone seeks, and denying them in the name of arrogance, in the name of purity, can lead to terrible results. The fact that this is a very “Black” movie simply drives home that message.  Black culture is at its center, and the succession of black faces onscreen can’t help but make the experience rather unique.  I cannot remember another instance where Black culture and African culture have received this kind of positive treatment in a movie tailored to a general audience.  It is a respect that is deserved and long overdue.

Black Panther ends by demanding that nations build bridges, not walls.  It’s not an unfamiliar message.  But it shouldn’t be seen as purely political.  Those bridges are human, too.  Everyone can extend a hand.  Everyone can help someone else see a sunrise.