In a 2004 movie adaptation of H.R. Haggard's 1881 novel, King Solomon Mines, the protagonist, Alan Quartermain, is approached by Elizabeth Maltrain, whose scientist father has been kidnapped in Africa. Maltrain wants Quartermain as her escort to Africa, but the latter sees it as a bad idea because "Africa is a dangerous place" and "no place for a lady." For years, this has been the default characterization of Africa by Hollywood: exotic, savage, poor, under-civilized and in need of salvation by foreigners. Black Panther sought to cure this.

Positively, Black Panther shows very effectively that heroes must not be only white. Progress must not be only white. The suggestion, as seen in the case of the nation of Wakanda, is, if black countries were allowed their autonomy and not subjected to the brunt of foreign interventions, they would have developed as much as western societies have in science, technology and economics. But this is where Black Panther runs into problems.

Throughout the movie, references are made to how Wakanda is unique, developed, rich and technologically advanced, while other African countries are "third world" – the descriptor used as usual, pejoratively and not in its original Cold War sense of not being aligned with NATO or the Soviet Union. For a movie that seeks to shed some positive light on blackness and Africa, suggesting African countries and the two billion blacks around the world need to be saved by others, even if its by another African state, Wakanda (especially as the latter is fictitious), hardly provides a positive narrative about "real" African countries or changes what Hollywood has traditionally presented.

Killmonger, the main villain and cousin of Black Panther, wants to go and save suffering black nations, while Black Panther primarily objects to this idea because that will be too much exposure for Wakanda. The actual idea that other black nations need saving by others, is not thus effectively challenged in Black Panther, just like other Hollywood films do not. Black Panther is inspirational and cannot solve all the problems in the world, but I wish it did not present the real African countries virtually as failures, bearing "SOS" placards and thereby reducing the movie’s storyline to: "to save [these failing other African countries] or not to save." Yes, the movie turned on its head the White Savior Complex, but only by angling for a Wakanda Savior Complex and not distancing itself enough from what I call, the "Black Sufferer Complex." The movie could have better tapped into the "Africa Rising" narrative that has been in vogue on the continent in recent years.

The other big question — not for Black Panther to resolve, though — is why the many real-life black heroes have not been enough for blacks and for those who relate with us. Why is there so much enthusiasm about a fictional black superhero? There are the Obamas, Annans, deGrasse Tysons, Oprah Winfreys and Aliko Dangotes of this world. If these have not mattered for race relations, black emancipation and shown that blacks are as good as anybody else, how far can a fictitious Black Panther travel? Should not the real inspire more than the fictional? If the real has not been enough, then is Black Panther not merely a fleeting breather, a reverie destined to be short-lived? You enter the cinema from the real world of racism, social discriminations and inequity, and get back to the same structural challenges after two hours. The deep-seated challenges waited for us just outside the cinema — black or white.

This may, however, be an underestimation of the effects of popular media. Maybe the huge reception of Black Panther is in itself a protest – if the real cannot be rectified, we will cherish the positivity in ephemeral fantasy. Also, just as how as brilliantly shown by Edward Said, popular art in the western world contributed to the superiority complex and imperialist predispositions of Western nations, so could genuine diversity in Hollywood projects influence the minds of its consumers over time. If black children want to be like Black Panther or Black Panther's sister, Shuri, and not Snow White or Gulliver, then I can smile because human beings must be happy in their own skins. If a white kid would watch this movie and feel like he or she wants to be like Black Panther, or any of his relatives, then I can smile more because that ideally is where we should really get. But for this to be fair game, there should be true diversity in the options on the menu, and not the lopsided one-race supply of fictional and historic "universal" heroes.

T'Chala

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