From Captain America, Iron Man and Thor, Marvel Studios has built its legacy around the hypermasculine, white, male caped-crusader. In direct subversion of this norm, the latest addition to the Black Panther franchise, Wakanda Forever (2022), not only thrusts Black women at the forefront of Marvel's most anticipated film of the year but successfully reimagines a Black male superhero with a Black woman.
Some suggest that the critical acclaim the film has garnered thus far may potentially be eclipsed by Ryan Coogler’s refusal to recast T’Challa. However, T’Challa’s absence allows Coogler to prove that the women characters are not simply lurking behind T’Challa’s shadow. They are complex and nuanced Black women characters with individual stories that illuminate the power of female agency.
Film critics such as Sibongile Mpofu & Thabani Mpofu point to the power of films as cultural mediums which can dismantle ideologies that promote inequality and subordination, and allow women to articulate our stories. Despite this potential, Hollywood’s drought of Black women heroes on-screen is painfully obvious to superhero film fans and Black women in particular. Only 26.7% of Marvel characters are women as of 2017, with Black female characters accounting for less than a quarter of this figure.
The clearest example of how Wakanda Forever is a win for Black women’s representation is anchoring its story around a matriarchy of intelligent and powerful women who’d stop at nothing to protect Wakanda. In the wake of King T’Challa’s death, it is Queen Ramonda who assumes the throne and protects the nation from imperialist forces attempting to extract vibranium from Wakanda. In the face of doubt surrounding the sacred Black Panther’s heritage, it is Shuri who claims the Black Panther title to preserve her brother’s noble legacy.
When the threat of the Talokan emerges from the depths of the ocean, it is Nakia, Okoye and the army of Dora Milaje who save Wakanda and the rest of the world from plummeting into chaos. Each of these characters avoid the common pitfall of women superheroes whose power is often activated in service of patriarchy to advance male characters' ambitions. Instead, their compassion as leaders and passion for family and community shines through every scene.
Although Shuri was not originally conceptualised as the eventual protagonist of the Black Panther franchise, she has the most successful character development of the films thus far. Shuri exemplifies why the issue of Black women’s representation isn’t just about including Black women in superhero films to fulfil a diversity quota, but forging nuanced characters who accurately speak to Black women’s experiences.
Most Black women can relate to being typecast as ‘strong Black women’, a stereotype which is rooted to resilience and stoicism. This burden often obstructs us from being emotional and running the risk of being chastised as ‘too angry’. Similarly, when T’Challa dies, Shuri is caught between a vicious cycle of two emotions; numbness that leaves her unable to cry and the anger of not being able to save T’Challa. Shuri’s numbness is briefly suspended when Namor kills Ramonda, and Shuri temporarily succumbs to a flood of emotion. Still, she quickly retreats to her previously detached state during Ramonda’s funeral where she doesn’t speak or cry.
By exploring grief and immeasurable loss, Shuri not only rejects the stereotype of the ‘strong Black woman’ but also champions the power in feeling. She suggests that being a female superhero is not just about proximity to traditionally masculine ideals like prowess in combat and being emotionally reserved. It is only when Shuri successfully recreates the Heart-Shaped Herb and is transported to the Ancestral Plane, which serves as a mirror for her subconscious, that her true state of mind is revealed.
She sees Killmonger, and not T’Challa who the audience probably expected, because he represents the anger and vengeance that torments her and that she has desperately tried to suppress up until this point. In Killmonger, she finds comfort in admitting her desire for retribution by killing Namor because she says she is not as noble and forgiving as her brother. In the end, Shuri refuses to let vengeance consume her and spares Namor’s life. This act of compassion is a liberating subversion of the ‘Strong Black Woman’ stereotype, and is revealed by showing value in qualities we see as feminine such as being in touch with our emotions.
Despite this achievement of Shuri as an emotionally mature and complex reimagining of Black Panther, some Black Panther fans still maintain that Ryan Coogler’s decision not to cast T’Challa was a mistake. As evidenced by the trending #RecastTChalla hashtag, the general consensus suggests that reinventing the Black Panther through Shuri hijacked an important character for Black men’s representation.
While sensitive to fans who are petitioning to Marvel to recast T’Challa, the precedent of passing the “superhero baton” is a common MCU trope. Jane Foster in Thor, Miles Morales as Spider-Man and Sam Wilson as Captain America are a few examples. Thus, the fact that reinventing popular superheroes only attracts uproar if male superheroes are replaced with women is an example of misogyny among the male fans who dominate the superhero-comic book sphere. In any case, the introduction of T’Challa’s son at the film’s conclusion, who happens to be his namesake, leaves open the possibility of revisiting T’Challa’s character in the future while simultaneously allowing the cast and Black Panther fans to grieve and celebrate Chadwick Bosman’s legacy.
Overall, Wakanda Forever is a triumph for Black women’s representation. This formidable ensemble of women who grieve, fight, invent, love and preserve tradition provides a hopeful future of what distinct and fully realised Black women superheroes represent. To the male fans who appear to be agitated at the decision not to recast T’Challa, the answer is simple: let Black women enjoy things.