Let's play a game

 I've discovered there is a point where even Facebook will give up on you. 

I last posted in February. I guess around March I was reminded that I hadn't posted in a while. Maybe I got another reminder in April, but even then, I could tell that the robots were fed up. I would've been, too. I wasn't sulking; I might have even questioned what the use would've been, but that would've just been untrue. It's virtually impossible to say why, but for whatever reason I had a mysterious, steady few periods of royalty payments. I got an email from Amazon, then another, then another. I found it all very suspicious, and strangely was too busy with other work to really pay attention. I took a diligent moment to thank my luck, be grateful for readers, and then went about trying not to drown at my new job. I didn't think at all to blog. 

And that's not why I'm writing now, either. I'm writing now because a thought I had been gnawing on for months, years, finally bore fruit. I have a personal rule I try and abide by, and it's proven to be a very effective method for generating thought experiments and I would hope productive mental activity and story-telling practice. And that method is not to denounce or deride or criticize another's telling without any idea about how to make it better myself. No amount of "that's terrible"s or "this just isn't good"s help anyone. I try, I try more for "how about"s and "I think maybe what would've been more compelling"s. 

The film Black Panther came out in 2018 and while I didn't see it until a year later, I was still caught up in its importance to the moment of its existence. What it meant to people in terms of visibility, access, representation, perspective made it a bit transcendent. There had to be a sequel; the universe demanded it. Then Boseman passed in 2020. I remember my mouth dropping open, because I had no idea what Coogler and the other writers would do. He had very clearly killed off Michael B. Jordan, who felt to me the obvious replacement. Equally clear was that T'Challa could not be CGI'd in like some strange digital shoe horning. I remember being invested, partially because I had no idea what I would do. But, I do not have the luxury of a Hollywood producer. I have my own lot to maintain, but those are neighbors in the world of my own end game. Someday I hope to have those kinds of problems. 

And driving along yesterday, it suddenly hit me. And that's that's why I'm sitting here, doing this now. I just want to get it out before I find anything else about the movie's plot (I saw a graphic for an article about a character named Iron Heart; I have no idea who that is but I assume it's the young princess, Suri). I think the new Black Panther, for all intents and purposes is Suri. I don't mean that she wears the mantle. I mean in function as the protagonist of the story. I believe this because Killmonger died. I cannot shake the scene of his demise; the line specifically. He aligned himself with the slaves that would sooner jump to their deaths in the ocean than subject themselves for what awaited on the shores of America and islands of Caribbean. His stance and philosophy echoes that of Magneto, which is to say Malcolm X, as the mutant master of magnetism neatly reflected the civil rights leader who was viewed as the more radical foil to Martin Luther King Jr., who was symbolized by Charles Xavier, and in our framework, King T'Challa. So, Killmonger dies, defiant, and then so does T'Challa. One on screen, one off, but either way both have been removed from play, much like they were in factual history. 

That left lesser intermediaries to fill in the gaps, pick up the pieces, push various movements forward yes, but it also forced the people still alive to come up with our own answers. We were alive. We had to decide. And that, I believe, is an excellent seed bed to place the story of the second movie. The young genius knew her brother's heart, changed by his conflict with Killmonger: use the superior technology of Wakanda to help the larger world. But how exactly? Who exactly would the design exist to benefit? What would change as as result? What would be the nature of the complications? What would her answer be, in the metaphorical framework of her choice, given the combatting philosophies of her brothers? As the black woman-leader-survivor so often remaining in the aftermath, there to pick up the pieces when the dust settles, what would her reply ultimately be? As the mother to the new world, what would she ultimately give birth to? I think that times the heartbeat of the ultimate effort, and returns the franchise to its original heights and grandeur. 

I think Marvel has a winning formula, but it isn't an award worthy recipe. I think name recognition, the effects, the explosions, the acting will all put butts in seats, but something more is expected from this sequel. Something deep, yet close, something grand, yet human. Something that people will to be able to understand but maybe not be able to articulate except with patience and great effort. Something magical. And I think it will live in the exposition and the quiet moments. 

Right or wrong, I feel satisfied; this time I won't wait.