Wakanda Forever

For months now, there’s been a somewhat forced, artificial sense of excitement surrounding the Black Panther sequel Wakanda Forever - as if anything less would be an insult to the memory of the film’s late star Chadwick Boseman. Truthfully, in spite of the clearly dedicated efforts of director Ryan Coogler, it remains difficult to look beyond the bitter reality of Boseman’s premature passing - a talented actor taken far too soon, and a perfect T’Challa who should have been a key piece of the MCU for years to come. To put it bluntly - the circumstances suck. You can only get so primed for a Black Panther movie whose Black Panther has literally been ripped from its heart.

Nonetheless, Wakanda Forever is the best Marvel movie of 2022 - not that that’s saying a whole lot. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness was messy and overly reliant on Sam Raimi’s outdated bag of cinematic tricks, while Thor: Love and Thunder barely even bothered to show up. Phase 4 of the MCU has had its moments, but so far has mostly been the stage at which fatigue finally begins to set in. Thankfully, Coogler has a better and more reliable grasp of the mechanics of pop moviemaking than most. And Black Panther was blessed with one of the stronger supporting casts in the entire Marvel ecosystem.

That includes Angela Bassett as the regal and indomitable Queen Ramonda; Danai Gurira as steel-willed Dora Milaje general Okoye; Lupita Nyong’o (still trying to figure out why she isn’t one of the biggest stars on the planet) as retired Wakandan operative Nakia; and Winston Duke as the charismatic warrior chief M’Baku. All of them do their part… but it should come as no surprise that the brunt of the movie falls on the shoulders of Letitia Wright, who nearly stole the first movie as T’Challa’s spunky, tech-savvy little sister Shuri. Equally unsurprising is that she’s more than up to the task, even though circumstances force her to play a far more mournful and self-serious version of the character.

For a 160-minute movie, the plot is surprisingly simple. Americans discover a vibranium deposit on the ocean’s floor, which threatens the secret underwater civilization of Talokan and its warrior king Namor (impressive Mexican actor Tenoch Huerta Mejia)… but has graver implications for Wakanda, as Namor demands an alliance against the surface dwellers, promising retribution if the African nation dare refuse him. One wishes that Coogler’s script - which he wrote with Joe Robert Cole - was a little more finely tuned. The conflict between Wakanda and Talokan - and by extension, between Namor and Shuri - feels contrived more than anything, lacking a clear philosophical context. At one point, deep into the story, there’s an exciting and unexpected cameo that ushers Shuri onto a path of vengeance, but the groundwork is less-than-convincing.

That being said, with the exception of the giddy, nostalgia-saturated Spider-Man: No Way Home, most of the more recent Marvel movies have struggled with the basic art of large-scale thrills. As a comic book crowd-pleaser, Wakanda Forever is very, very sturdy. It’s a little unfortunate that the Talokan warriors emerge from the sea blue-skinned - drawing unneeded comparisons with a certain OTHER blockbuster slated to release next month - but Coogler’s battle sequences have an appreciable sense of scale, drama, and emotional stakes (it’s hard to take such things for granted after watching Taika Waititi aimlessly muck about to Guns ’N Roses a few months ago). And in Namor, less villain than misguided antihero, the movie has a character - and actor - of notable potential on its hands. It’ll be intriguing to see what Marvel chooses to do with him moving forward. ​

The film also properly - and poignantly - honors Boseman’s memory. The beginning and ending are both genuinely moving. As pop entertainment, Wakanda Forever lands somewhere in the increasingly clustered middle ground of the MCU, but it bears a heavier emotional weight. The show must go on, but this is a movie that’s not afraid to show its own sorrow… or allow the audience to grieve alongside it.