BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER Is More A Mourning Companion Than A True Sequel

Opening this evening at every multiplex in the multiverse:

BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER
(Dir. Ryan Coogler, 2022)

The MCU (the Marvel Cinematic Universe, that is if your living situation has been living under a rock for the last quarter of a century) is such a propelling machine that not even the death of the lead actor of one of the biggest hits in the franchise will halt any production going forward. Of course, I’m talking about Chadwick Boseman, whose untimely demise in 2020, changed the course of the series as his performance as T'Challa / Black Panther was largely the reason the first installment earned over 1.3 billion at the box office, was hailed as one of the best films of the MCU, and was the first superhero film to receive an Academy Award nomination for Best Picture.

But the 2018 BLACK PANTHER was very rich with other elements that scored with audiences so the idea that a sequel could build on the world of Wakanda (the fictional technogically advanced African nation that’s home to T’Challa and his family), particularly in the role of the sister of our dearly departed, Princess Shuri, played by Letitia Wright. Wright, who also reprised Shuri in two AVENGERS entries, INFINITY WAR and ENDGAME, unsurprisingly has been upgraded to the star in this go round as anybody can guess she ends up donning the shiny, black and purple panther suit, and helmet herself to take on the title.

Also returning are Lupita Nyong’o as T’Challa’s River Tribe War Dog lover, Nakia; Danai Gurira as Okoye, general of the all female fight forces, the Dora Milaje; Angela Bassett as Ramonda, The Queen Mother of Wakanda, Winston Duke as T’Challa’s former challenger, M’Baku; and, well, I’ll just stop there and say that it looks like every major player from the first one is back, even Michael B. Jordan puts in a welcome cameo as N’Jadaka, the main antagonist in the original.

After a Marvel Studios opening logo fashioned as a stunning, emotional tribute with multiple images of Boseman filling up the onlines of the company’s letters, we are taken into an emotional emergency sequence in progress in which we witness Shuri been shaken by the death of her brother by some unspecified disease (it sure wasn’t the colon cancer that took the actor in real life). The first chunk of the film is a very somber, and thoughtful mediation on grief as T’Challa’s family and friends attempt to move on but the shadow of their fallen king and protector looms large over them and the movie as a whole.

But there is a plot here involving the powerful metal Vibranium, the series undeniable McGuffin, and how the whole world wants it including this film’s adversary, Namor (Tenoch Huerta) The king of Talokan, an ancient civilization of underwater dwelling people. Caught up in this is MIT student Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne), and another welcome reprise: Martin Freeman as CIA agent, Everett Ross, who has some awkward scenes that don’t quite gel with another Marvel veteran Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, who is basically a slight variation of her hateful Veep character.

Over the course of its two hours and forty minute running time, there are the big noisy (the volume at the press screening I attended was particularly loud) action sequences – this time concerning yet another bombastic bridge-set battle, and a ginormous finale ocean-set battle, but the quieter, contemplative moments of mourning are what the movie’s really about. 

Wright’s Shuri carries WAKANDA FOREVER with her spunk driven to fill the space left behind by her brother, with her genuine sadness over the loss coming to surface throughout her heartfelt performance. As the movie is bookended by visual memorial tributes made out of choice shots of Boseman, and so much of it focusing on the grief surrounding T’Challa’s death, it felt more like more like a mourning companion to the original BLACK PANTHER than a true sequel to me, but on that level it mostly works that to its benefit. It’s like the action scenes could’ve been completely cut, and a straight super hero drama could be fashioned from the footage, and it’ll probably have the same intended impact.

It may fall short of being a completely satisfying follow-up, but this glorified BLACK PANTHER epilogue of sorts does fall in line with the rest of Phase four of the MCU, being that it’s a serviceable entry as the 30th film in the franchise. Meaning it will be devoured, and spit out by the hardcore, seen and disposed by the casual fans, and ignored by the rest of the movie-going public, who apparently are the minority as these super hero movies are still dominating the big screen landscape. Until that changes, at least there’s some real emotion, and sentimentality in a project like this to inject some soul, and a heart, and an African drum beat to Disney and Marvel’s never stopping movie machine when its most needed.

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KING CRIMSON AT 50: Light On The Then, Heavy On The Now

IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING: KING CRIMSON AT 50

(Dir. Toby Amies, 2022)

Today, Toby Amies' new documentary about the legendary British band, King Crimson, with a title as long as many of the prog rock band's epic songs, opens in a limited theatrical release, which will be followed by its worldwide one-night-only digital event release on October 22nd.

Now, I've never been into prog rock - nothing against it, there has been some of it that I dug, but just never really explored the genre - so the legend of King Crimson is largely new territory for me. Loving rock docs, even ones about artists/bands that I'm not into, I love to be educated by a well crafted film, full of archival footage, and insightful anecdotes, on the background of beloved musical icons, but early on in this half century celebration of Robert Fripp and company I could tell that this film is no cinematic Wikipedia page.

With only minor asides to the past, Amies' film focuses on King Crimson's pre-pandemic 50th Anniversary tour in 2019, as there's only a handful of clips from the band's late '60s and early-mid '70s heyday, so we spend more time hanging in hallways and mulling about in concert venues than informing newcomers like me to their history.

The film opens on vast shots of an elaborate theater, with stunning exteriors dominated by silver glass domes, and a majestic palace of an interior. Thing is, this beautiful venue is never identified (I learned later that it’s the Parca Della Musica Auditorium, and no date is given). This is the norm throughout the rest of the movie as much live performance material is featured, but without informative info presented. Venues aren’t even listed in the end credits so a rock geek like me who cares about such stuff has to do his own research to put this stuff in proper context.

But what I did get as a takeaway is that King Crimson leader / founder / conceptual mastermind Fripp is a pretty prickly fellow. Several times, Fripp acidly snips at Amies, putting down his questions (“preposterous tosh” he calls one line of questioning), and he just regularly seems annoyed, but he also waxes on wistfully, and pretentiously about the shaping of his vision through different line-up changes through five decades.

It’s impossible to not use the word pretentious when talking about King Crimson, as it’s my understanding that pretentiousness is imbedded in the prog rock genre. So a newbie like me, with little connection to their extensive catalog, may get lost in some of the lofty talk about their process.

But surrounding that is juiciness in the sideline interaction of band members like multi-instrumentalists Jakko M. Jakszyk, and Bill Rieflin, who was suffering from colon cancer on the tour, and passed in 2020. There’s also some cool commentary from the likes of Adrian Belew, Ian McDonald, and Bill Bruford.

There have been 22 members of King Crimson over the years, but this film only covers 14 of them. The rest are given an “Absent from the film, but not forgotten” mention at the end. I can’t decide whether it’s funny or offensive that Rieflin’s cat is given some screen-time over even a tiny mention of any a bunch of legit ex-members of the band, especially as it’s only a 96-minute film.

KING CRIMSON is undeniably for fans over the uninitiated, and the parts with the followers, whether joyous audience shots, or fun interview bits at whatever concert hall, are some of the best moments, but since a newbie like me got a taste of this grand band’s appeal, maybe you will too. But I would’ve preferred more back story as there’s only a handful of old timey TV and live clips, and it would have been nice to hear more about the songs, and the sets chosen for the tour - you know, the music itself, man!

I’ll have to do that research myself, I guess. Dammit, I hate when docs make me do my own research!

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THE LONELIEST BOY IN THE WORLD: An Obtuse, Odd Zomedy

Opening in a limited theatrical release somewhere today:

THE LONELIEST BOY IN THE WORLD

(Dir. Martin Owen, 2022)

The genre of the undead flourishes again in this odd offering from Martin Owen (L.A. SLASHER, LET'S BE EVIL, KILLERS ANONYMOUS, THE INTERGALACTIC ADVENTURES OF MAX CLOUD), Releasing in theaters today, and dropping on VOD platforms on October 18th. Billed as “a modern fairytale, except with zombies,” the dark comedy stars Max Harwood as Oliver, a timid teenager trying to find his way through suburban life after his mother passes.

For this “zombedy,” as some are calling it, Director Owen worked from a screenplay by Piers Ashworth, and the project re-united him with cinematographer Håvard Helle, who had shot his last several movies. Notably, the one recognizable name involved is Emilio Estevez, who executive-produced the film.

Shot in Canada (Vancouver, British Columbia), but set in an unspecified everytown, the film is set in 1987 amid a surreal blend of pastels, kitschy household trickets, and Alf reruns always on the TV. Harwood's awkward Oliver, after the tragic, yet deliciously colorful death of his mother (Carol Anne Watts), comes to a catharsis about his lonely situation at a cemetery, and starts to dig up various bodies, and bring the undead to live with him at his suburban home. Basically, Oliver has taken the initiative in his life to dig up some friends.

Oliver’s first post mortem pal is Mitch, played by a shades or bandaged head-wearing Hero Fiennes Tiffin in a tuxedo. After a close call, Oliver bandages the head of his corpse-lish companion, and asks, “You know, you could’ve been caught; what would you have done?” to which we get the plucky reply: “Play dead.” Yes, Tiffin, whose character is credited as Mitch, is a zombie, but a talking, aware one, so the undead aren't like the walkers in The Walking Dead or many of the other shows and movies in the wide genre.

Our protagonist even arranges the deteriorating undead like a family on a couch poised for a photographic portrait that’s used as a touchstone throughout the film. This sentimentality is balanced out with disgusting scatological humor like a vomit bit that goes on too long, and too many close-ups of gruesome organ mishaps presented as goofy sight gags.

Oliver’s supporting cast includes Susan Wokoma in a stand-out role as Oliver’s sassy maid, and a blonde/blue-haired punk Tallulah Haddon, as Oliver’s love interest. There’s also zombie friends such as Evan Ross, Hammed Animashaun, Ben Miller, and Jacob Sartorius who live it up in party and diner scenes. Some sketchy types like a dapper Nicholas Stone, and Ashley Benson as social workers decorate the fringes of the film but end up having little consequence to the story.

This fairytale concerning the undead as companions for a lonely boy conveys a tone and a stylistic approach recalling Wes Anderson, Tim Burton, and Edgar Wright, but the film isn’t fleshed out enough to stand with the works of those masters. THE LONELIEST BOY IN THE WORLD is likable enough, but is more weird than actually funny, and its characters aren’t as endearing as the film wants them to be. 

Funny thing is, for a film set in, and aiming to ape the ‘80s, it’s the type of movie that would’ve been a cult film back in the actual Reagan era of four decades ago. It would’ve most likely fallen in with the likes of DROP DEAD FRED, WEIRD SCIENCE, or even THE TOXIC AVENGER. But now it’ll likely fall through the cracks, and not gain the odd-interest audience that it’s looking for. While I may have found it too obtuse, underwritten, and just plain strange for the sake of it, I bet there’s some kid or lonely boy or girl out there it will speak to.

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