Remythequill … In T’Challa We (Sort Of) Trust

Brothers and sisters, if you have not seen the new ‘Black Panther’ trailer, you need to stop whatever it is you are doing right now and fix the re-align axis of your life.

World events may have overshadowed the release of this highly anticipated film but I have to come out and say it: I am foolishly excited. I am talking about watch-the-trailer-at-least-three-times-a-day kind of excited.

Since Chadwick Boseman appeared in ‘Captain America: Civil War’ as T’Challa, the vibranium-suit clad Prince of Wakanda, kicking ass all over the place, balling out with his wealth and beard that connects, I have eagerly followed news about the Black Panther’s standalone film.

Who would be the cast? What would the storyline be? What direction would the production and costume design take? On a scale of one to messed up, how many cultural artefacts would the film get wrong while feeding us a distracting diet of explosions and chest-day close-ups?

I had so many questions. Some have been answered.

The cast is eclectic. Hollywood A-listers like Boseman, Jordan and Nyong’o, sprinkled with some newer talent like Guurira, Kaluuya and Kasuumba. The majority black cast is something that minority audiences in the hegemonic whitewashed media world have been asking for only since forever. The storyline seems to revolve around T’Challa’s ascension to the throne and will probably involve some Mufasa-Simba-esque “remember who you are” scenes – this is to be expected. I mean, what superhero prince does not have daddy issues?

As for the costume and production design, well, I think the brief was simple: Get everything from the African continent and put it in Wakanda. Regardless of place, time, and context, everything will be in there, somehow, someway. From the preliminary footage, it all looks like the filmmakers went for the shock-awe factor. Colours and textures from places and parts unknown, combined to create a cultural kaleidoscope that could only exist in some futuristic, technologically advanced African utopia, have been squeezed into each and every frame.

This should have been expected, though, given that in ‘Civil War’ T’Challa and his father spoke Xhosa even though Wakanda should be somewhere in East Africa where Swahili is the lingua franca.

This, of course, is what happens when you do not let Africans advise or consult on scripts and stories that take place in Africa – interpretation without representation always leads to gross and embarrassing oversights.

To be fair, though, ‘Black Panther’ is not about cultural nuance. This is not the film that will finally harmonise the representation of Africa on cinema screens.

At the end of the day, it will come to down to bashing, smashing, and all of the other delectable CGI that will surely make it a thrill to watch.

As for the all important question about how ripped one must get to make it to the sequel’s casting call, it seems to be a heck of a lot. So sign me up for every gym programme ever.