Years leading up to the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s (MCU) second Black Panther offering saw the franchise endure many crests and troughs, with the most impactful low being the abrupt demise of Chadwick Boseman – the original Black Panther. Battling a tight release schedule and scrambling for a thoughtful story, it’s a wonder that Black Panther: Wakanda Forever turned out to be a miracle child of sorts. The sequel saw the screenplay borrow substantially more from African languages, lore, and life, and the result is an unflinching representation of what Africa is, what it was, and what it could be.
The Use of African Lore and Spirituality to Reincarnate the Black Panther
When the untimely passing of the original Black Panther rocked the world, it was more than the fate of Wakanda that suffered the task of having to field all the difficult questions. Could there be another? What would become of the iconic titular superhero who’d come to personify what it meant to be African and to own that heritage? Was the recasting of this legendary character going to work, and if so, how was the audience going to react? Tough questions I pondered as I sat in a packed cinema. The answer to all these questions stood camouflaged in the use of African spiritual lore as a symbol and a theme of continuity and rebirth.
The greatest power of WF rested squarely on the subliminal and symbolic theme of continuity by celebrating what once was. That, after all, is the one thing most Africans resonate with. Perhaps, that’s why the tribute to Chadwick held the weight it had; it wasn’t much about mourning his passing but celebrating his new role as a powerful ancestor.
WF felt like the moment when you caught yourself looking at someone seeing themselves through a mirror and seeing traces of their parents, their grandparents, their ancestors. Consider the proverbial ancestral plane, which reprised its appearance, a concept spiritual natives still tap into for guidance, for gathering strength, and for spiritual closeness. Think about Shuri experiencing visions of Killmonger and her mother. The film is a sublime piece of metaphoric storytelling sure enough to be a cathartic release for all those who’ve dealt with (or are still wrestling) bereavement, anger-inducing grief, and the sense of motionlessness that comes with losing someone close to you. The use of ancestral communication as a critical turning point in the Wakanda-Talokan battle? A stroke of writing genius.
The Sound of Africa
Another unapologetically African quality weaved into WF is the use of African songs and artists, almost like Easter eggs planted in special places waiting to be uncovered. Music is a vital determinant in shaping the mood, the civil life, and the culture of a nation. Burna Boy crooning from a bird’s eye view, looking over towering skyscrapers, imbued me with a sense of wonder. Snapshots like that, accompanied by the right music, divorced it from feeling like a generic transitional movie scene; it lent it to being like a plane flight about to land with nothing to welcome you but the nostalgic thick dialect so prevalent in African tongues. Other local talents included: South Africans Kamo Mphela, DBN Gogo, Sino Msolo, and Young Stunna; and Nigerians CKay, Fireboy DML, and Tems.
In addition to the homegrown soundtrack, the tribute to African talent was a thoughtful gesture, as seen in the appearances of Nigerian Kamaru Usman as a naval officer, and South Africa’s Connie Chiume as Zawavari and Trevor Noah as Griot. But unlike a number of films from abroad that mean well by doing this to appeal to African eyes, WF does well in the meaningful inclusion of these gifted stars—everything feels natural. None of the inclusions came off as an afterthought that could’ve been done away with altogether.
WF’s texture reached for Blackness in infinitely more ways than the first movie did. And because of its ambition, it came on stronger and more authentic in its Afrofuturistic expression of what Africa and her people could become someday. A worthy sequel and a noteworthy improvement from the first film.
