In 2018, Black Panther felt like a heist - it is rare to see a mainstream American movie deal with the realities of American/European colonial history, let alone a blockbuster instalment in the biggest franchise in the world - from Walt Disney, a company practised in crafting films which ignore that history.
At the end of the day, it is still a movie about people in super-powered suits fighting each other with super weapons, but with that added context, particularly in the characterisation of Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan), Black Panther feels almost subversive.
It also felt more like a singular film, and not a bridge between other instalments. I still have not seen Captain America - Civil War, and while watching Black Panther, it never feels like you are missing character or plot development.
It was a seismic event in 2018, a genuinely important film. But it also felt like its own story, with a specific point of view, and a sense of world-building and imagination that felt singular.
After watching Thor - Love and Thunder, I was slightly worried that Black Panther 2 would be more integrated into the Marvel machine, with any specificity or narrative deviations smoothed out.
While there are a couple of moments which feel crow-barred in, Wakanda Forever survives as its own entity.
With the passing of star Chadwick Boseman, and the decision to have his character die offscreen, Wakanda Forever was going to be a unique proposition.
This movie is based around T’Challa’s death, and the way the cast have to figure out how to move on. I was afraid that that real-word context would be cast away, or drowned out by the demands of setpieces, cameos and easter eggs for other movies.
The movie takes time to mourn the character’s death, and the interweaving of the characters grief with that of the actors mourning their colleague gives the film a metatextual charge. Death means something - not just loss, but a point of transition.
A recurring theme in Ryan Coogler's films (at least the ones I have seen) is their focus on a character wrestling with the legacy of a family or mentor figure - Adonis trying to find worth in the sport his father made his name in; T'Challa wrestling with the fallout of his family's tragic past.
Shuri is riddled with guilt over her brother's death, and is conflicted with the idea that her sudden shift in status will mean she will have to follow the traditions she has previously disregarded. When her mother (Angela Bassett) is killed, suddenly Shuri is forced out of her protective shell and into a leadership role.
I was impressed by how long it took for the reveal of the new Panther, and how the movie was based around Shuri wrestling with her brother’s legacy, and how to move on.
Even as she tries to deal with the arrival of Namor, and the machinations of the international community, the filmmakers do not take the easy path of making her Black Panther immediately.
Shuri, in the writing and Letitia Wright’s performance, is not prepared for that mantle. For a majority of the film, her central conflict is with herself, and her unwillingness to confront her feelings and grieve.
Even when she does inherit the mantle, it is not a sign of catharsis - she is in the wrong headspace for resolving the conflict with Namor, and is more obsessed with vengeance.
The filmmakers use the concept of meeting with the ancestors, which was a key element of the first film, to show Shuri’s fragile state - instead of her mother or brother, she is confronted by the spirit of Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan), the perfect avatar for her feelings of rage.
The climax is fascinating because while it has the architecture of a familiar action resolution (preparation, a big battle, a final showdown where our protagonist overcomes the odds), it lacks the clear moral divide that these kinds of set pieces usually have.
And Shuri’s actions come with a cost - it is not commented on in the text, but the film pays attention to showing Wakandan warriors being overwhelmed and killed by Namor’s forces. It helps that this battle - while augmented with CGI - is mostly based around human characters engaging in hand-to-hand combat. There is a visceral impact, tension and sense of loss to this scene that adds to the tragedy of Shuri’s descent into vengeance.
Like most blockbusters, Wakanda Forever is too long. There is a subplot involving Martin Freeman which should have been - at least - cut down, and the introduction of Ironheart feels like one character too many.
But I forgive it because for the most part, these extraneous elements do not negate or undermine the central thrust of the story. This is a movie where it is good that it takes its time.
It also helps that Namor (Tenoch Huerta Mejía) is such a strong antagonist.
The mutant leader of a race of water-breathers who are the descendants of a group of Mayans who fled the Spanish conquistadors, Namor will do anything to protect his people. He is no power-hungry tyrant, or agent of chaos.
In an ingenious touch, the character is hundreds of years old, which means he is a record-keeper of the horrors he is shielding his people from (in flashback, he is shown as a child witnessing the Spanish’s abuses).
Technically, the real villain is the Americans and Europeans. Their obsession with finding new sources of vibranium leads them to Namor’s kingdom, and leads him to contact Wakanda. This movie emphasises the ripple effects of geopolitical power plays as much as it does personal decisions, and they are fully perfectly integrated.
It continues the series’ emphasis on history, and the continuing impact of colonisation, both in terms of the African diaspora (a section of the film is set in Haiti) and indigenous people (Talokan).
While the resolution of Namor and Shuri’s conflict is good, with all the extra plotlines it feels slightly anticlimactic - it almost feels like we are about to get another showdown (after so many die, I was thinking there would be some kind of rebellion or discontent with Namor/Shuri’s leadership).
Thankfully, the movie ends on a quiet note, as Shuri burns her mourning garments on a beach, and begins to cry.
Even the obligatory mid-credits scene is a continuation of this moment, rather than a teaser for some other movie. It felt a little cute to me - the ending is so poignant on its own - but it is not detrimental.
A fine memorial to its star, Wakanda Forever manages to thread the needle between a meditation on grief and blockbuster thrills.
