Holes Shaped Like Our Fathers
“Tell me the story of home.”
Black Panther’s opening dialogue, of a father telling his son (and us, the audience) the story of Wakanda, serves to set the scene for the film. It’s a great opening, exposition-wise, and gives us context before the first action scene of the story (set in Oakland, 1992)—but it wasn’t until the day after I saw the film that I realized something.
Namely: that the boy asking for a story is the child who will become Killmonger.
He longs for a home he has never seen, and is relying on his father to illustrate his heritage. The son of an exiled prince dreaming of his lost kingdom.
The brutal sudden orphaning of Bruce Wayne is inextricably linked with the mythos of Batman. Superman’s planet exploded behind him as his life-raft-rocket sped towards Earth. There is something about not having a parental anchor which causes some people to seek wholeness in saving others from pain.
While, for other folks, growing up without a moral compass leads to a morally-broken adult.
Black Panther opens with a bedtime-story told by an exiled father to a son who’s never seen his homeland.
Poignantly—although without lingering on the fact—the first action scene of the movie ends with a black boy losing his father.
Midway through the film, the surprise villain Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) reveals that he was that boy, and that his father N’Jobu (Sterling K. Brown) was murdered by the man who would become King of Wakanda—his own brother, T’Chaka (whose younger self is played by Atandwa Kani, the son of John Kani). Fans of the Marvel films saw T’Chaka (John Kani) die during a bombing of the U.N. in Captain America: Civil War (2016), which introduced T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) as Black Panther, seeking vengeance for his father’s death.
There is a particular weight to the blood of brothers shed by their own blood, and the harsh tragedy of Killmonger’s orphaning makes him more sympathetic than simply a charismatic and unpredictable contender to the throne of Wakanda. He is cousin to T’Challa, and equally worthy of the throne.
FIRST VISION:
a just king
In the first act, T’Challa must prove himself worthy of the kingship; part of that involves an anointing ceremony which begins with the powerful potion of a sacred purple flower (which contains “the strength of the Black Panther”) and then a gentle burial in red sand.
Our hero goes on a vision-quest which is centrally an affirmation by the spirit of his father, that T’Challa is worthy of being King of Wakanda.
- T’Challa visits the Ancestral Plane. Note the black panthers on low branches of the tree.
As they quietly talk beneath a spreading tree populated by watchful ancestor-panthers, King T’Chaka reassures his son that his time has come: “Have you not prepared to be King all your life? Have you not studied and trained, and been by my side?”
To which his son replies, with quiet grief: “That is not what I am talking about. I am not ready to be without you.”
While the start of the King’s reply is most relevant to this essay, I’m including the whole thing because it is a sweet moment and the first of three astoundingly raw spirit-plane confrontations of this nature.
A man who has not prepared his children for his own death… has failed as a father. …… You’re going to struggle. So you’ll need to surround yourself with people you trust. You’re a good man with a good heart. And it’s hard for a good man to be king.
And on that note, T’Challa awakens from his spirit-journey—reassured of his worthiness to succeed his father.
Awesome uplifting moment, and handled with great finesse by Ryan Coogler, his cast, whoever did the effects and musi….it’s great. Is the point.
It is more insightful, both in concept and in its ambitious execution, than what’s usually thought of as Superhero Fare. The brief reunion of a grieving son with the shade of his wise and benevolent father gives closure to the loss suffered in Civil War, and confirms T’Challa’s aspiration to follow in his father’s footsteps.
If that was a standalone scene, it would stand out. But in fact, T’Challa’s vision is the first of three in the film—which, seen together, reveal the subtle artistry of this father-and-son theme.
SECOND VISION:
boy without a father
When T’Challa is deposed (and assumed dead) by Killmonger, he goes through the same ritual anointing, and the same burial in soft red sand.
And: he, too, meets his father again.
This is a hard scene, and a tremendously powerful one—Killmonger’s spirit journeys back to his childhood apartment-complex (a manifestation of the Ancestral Plane which, unlike the wide-horizoned savanna populated by King T’Chaka and the panther-kings before him, is contemporary (c. 1992—note the Public Enemy poster nexto the hidden compartment).
However, the same leitmotif plays as Erik enters the Ancestral Plane (signaling the similarity with the first vision), and solidifies Killmonger’s role in opposition to T’Challa not just as an adversary, but a doppelganger as well: a dark reflection of the hero. But while T’Chaka (“A man who has not prepared his children for his own death… has failed as a father.”) taught his son the fundamentals of life and kingship, Erik had to make his own way in the world without guidance or parental love.
Erik’s early loss–and lifelong struggle to find his own footing in the world after losing his father–has led him to kill indiscriminately and, in fact, joyfully.The second vision creates a counterpoint to T’Challa’s uplifting acceptance-of-manhood by the King’s spirit: while T’Challa approaches his father tenderly, Erik’s brief conversation with his long-dead dad has a wariness (and deep, unspoken sadness) which physically articulates the distance between him and his father.
N’Jobu cannot assure his son that he will be either good or strong–only that he is lost.
In the shot-reverse-shots between Killmonger and his father, Erik switches between the grown man revisiting a traumatic scene, and the child (played by ten-year-old Seth Carr) whose grief is still too palpable to openly deal with.
“I fear you may not be welcome [back to Wakanda],” N’Jobu tells his son sadly.
“Why not?” the boy asks.
“They will say you are lost.”
“But I’m right here,” the boy replies, puzzled and uncomfortable with the idea of not having a home as well as being robbed of his father.
“I should have taken you home long ago,” N’Jobu says sadly. “Now we are abandoned here.”
“Well, maybe your home is the ones that’re lost,” Erik (the grown son) replies quietly, but firm. Thoughtful, rather than the brash proud killer we’ve seen thus far. “That’s why they can’t find us.”
With that, he suddenly awakens from the spirit-journey. His determination to send Wakandan resources into black communities around the world is the direct consequence of this realization, and the painful confrontation with his long-ago dead father.
As Erik confronts the father-shaped hole in his life, Coogler (and the actors) gives us a startlingly raw glimpse into the depth of his alienation and childhood trauma.
“Everybody dies,” N’Jobu muses to the grown son he has never known. “It’s just life around here.”
That resignation, the acceptance of a reality where fathers die, is…..a terrible but unavoidable truth. In facing the shape of his loss—the loving father who never saw his son grow up—Erik emerges from the vision with a clearer sense of himself.
QUICK SIDEBAR ON CREED (2015)
This is apparent on the level of the film itself, but it is superbly clear if you saw (or, like me, tracked down subsequently) director Ryan Coogler’s film immediately before Black Panther—CREED.
A rare excellent late installment to a beloved franchise, CREED is the story of Apollo Creed’s son (also played by Michael B. Jordan). Though he never knew his father, boxing is in his blood, and he seeks out the legendary Rocky Balboa to…..well, that’s another movie—and while you can absolutely see where it is going, it is a tremendously passionate entry in the history of sports movies.
And if you saw it, you can see the return to that theme in Black Panther.
But while Donnie Johnson (who does not trade on his father’s legacy, and struggles to take up the mantle of his name) fights because it is what he was born to do, Erik Killmonger is a reckless killer because he was robbed of love at an early age.
His journey into the Ancestral Plane is one of reconciliation with the parental love he has lost. He accepts his own tragedy, and becomes determined to save other children of African descent who live in the harsh and predominantly white world.
THIRD VISION
Savannah under the sun
Of course, T’Challa isn’t dead—Marvel couldn’t just kill off Black Panther out of the blue, halfway through his own movie. Like the majority of named characters who fall off a cliff (even non-feline-themed heroes), T’Challa has another life coming.
- While T’Challa first meets his father’s spirit with deference, this time his mode is one of defiance.
But the way to that next life is a hard one. He journeys (with the help of loyal friends who find and prepare his near-lifeless body) back to the Ancestral Plane, and confronts his father with the newfound knowledge that the man he admired for being a wise and benevolent king once killed his own brother and abandoned his orphan nephew in a distant land.
And this hard journey is signaled by a wonderful visual cue: the sweeping of snow across T’Challa’s face (like the red sand in the two previous vision-scenes).
When T’Challa first goes to the savanna, it is night. But on his second visit, the plain is well-lit by the midday sun. Nice ambiguous symbolism (knowing more of his father now)—and, just cool to watch (like this whole movie:).
- In the daylight, T’Challa’s forebears are human; by night, they prefer to be panthers.
T’Chaka justifies his abandonment of Erik, “choosing Wakanda” instead—but T’Challa rages that he (and all his ancestors gathered around them) is wrong to hold back the boons of Wakanda from the world, and shrugging off black oppression.
In defying this isolationist tradition, T’Challa both proves his worthiness to be king—and echoes Killmonger. While he doesn’t want open violence, he is likewise determined to improve the lot of black folks the world over.
AFTERTHOUGHT:
a personal reflection
While I had been trying to find a time to see Black Panther for a few weeks, I finally had a chance during the week my dad was visiting.
As the trailers had unaccountably featured mostly action-moments, and not even alluded to the deeper themes of fatherhood, isolationism, and female empowerment, we were both surprised and deeply moved by the confrontations which spurred me to write this essay.
I am sure I would’ve appreciated the artistry of these scenes in any case–but I am equally sure that, had I seen it with friends, the depth of these father-son connections would not have resonated so strongly.
(Love you, Dad–happy and blessed to have you in my life:)
and: Happy Father’s Day <3