From whichever angle you viewed it, the events leading up to the release of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever are a set of circumstances nobody would wish to find themselves in. On an emotional, business and, most importantly, human level, the passing of Chadwick Boseman in 2020 rocked the industry and world in an immeasurable way, the world losing one of the most critical figures in the onscreen representation of Black culture. Deciding early on that they wouldn't recast Boseman in the titular, defining role of King T'Challa, Wakanda Forever seeks to forge a path forward while galvanising the legacy of Chadwick.
Following the sudden death of King T'Challa and with the Wakanda nation in mourning, their position on the global stage begins to falter with no clear leader. When a number of attacks are wrongly attributed to Wakanda, spurred by the discovery of new sources of vibranium, the nation finds themselves in a precarious position - all while dealing with their all-consuming grief. Ryan Coogler returns as director, alongside a number of key cast members, including Letitia Wright, Lupita Nyong'o, Danai Gurira and Angela Bassett in Wakanda Forever, which carries more than just the weight of being the latest entry into the Marvel Cinematic Universe and closing chapter of Phase Four.
Chadwick Boseman's presence is felt in every scene of Wakanda Forever, a film that seeks to memorialise both the character and actor who inspired a generation. From the very first scene, there is a tidal wave of emotion coursing throughout this sequel, not only driven by the themes of loss, grief and legacy at the screenplay's core but the same sense of mourning felt by the creatives dealing with the passing of their colleague, friend and leader. Beautifully paying tribute while searching for a sensitive route forward, it shouldn't be overstated how well the filmmakers have done to balance the impossibly difficult obstacles of crafting this film during such sorrow.
Thriving in the smaller, more intimate moments of the piece where the characters are often in conversation with each other or deep thought, the entire ensemble brings their all to Wakanda Forever, committed to honouring the story and the themes at the centre. Letitia Wright finds herself in the unenviable position of leading the cast but steps up with a grace and poise that results in a winning performance. Angela Bassett delivers an emotionally-charged turn as a mother suffering the loss of her son and further burdened with the pressure of continuing her reign as queen; it is such powerful work, even greater in its force given the circumstances.
Danai Gurira continues to be, for me, Black Panther's most valuable resource, with such commanding work that truly captures the Dora Milaje's total devotion, which Gurira executes in such a dignified, magnetic manner that it is often difficult to take your eyes off her. Similarly, Lupita Nyong'o remains a completely captivating presence in the film with one beach-set moment in which she stands alone, processing her anguish, that could arguably be the film's single strongest moment. The position these actors are in is devastating but the way in which they rally together is a testament to their strength and professionalism.
As a legacy to Boseman, and as an elegy to grief and healing, Wakanda Forever is a success; as a blockbuster, it is indisputably flawed and suffers from the same issues that have weakened a number of more recent Marvel flicks. Looking beyond the work they do in regards to the Black Panther mantle, it is a bloated feature in need of a forward momentum to alleviate the weary plotting that holds it back and prevents it from reaching the levels of excitement that the original film had in abundance. And even in spite of Ludwig Goransson's strong score which brings such life, there is even a sense of hollowness to the big, bombastic set pieces, with some drowned out by a combination of poor lighting and an over-reliance on CGI.
And it's not that director Ryan Coogler is unable to deliver these moments - a middle act siege is far stronger than the ultimate finale showdown and, again, it cannot be overstated how beautifully he captures the more contemplative and reflective moments of the film - but has more to do with how loose the plotting feels. Namor, played terrifically by Tenoch Huerta, is a worthy antagonist but his moral complexity and villainous intentions do not feel as carefully developed as they should to give the film that richer layer of meaning and consideration.
Wakanda Forever is no doubt a moving tribute to Boseman and a powerful exploration of the grieving process, an emotionally weighty and almost cathartic experience. But as a Marvel feature, it feels both overstuffed and surprisingly empty. At the risk of over theorising, perhaps these action set pieces are just the dictation of the blockbuster model that demands a splashy sequence every thirty minutes to meet audiences expectations, otherwise distracting the creators from the more meditative, moving and sombre story of loss they are validly more invested in telling. Wakanda Forever is far from a failure; it's also, sadly, far from the barnstorming success of its predecessor.