by Tim Gordon
Black Panther: Wakanda Forever is not just a film, it’s a eulogy, a reckoning, and a call to carry on. In the wake of Chadwick Boseman’s passing, director Ryan Coogler and co-writer Joe Robert Cole were faced with an unenviable task: honor the irreplaceable legacy of both Boseman and T’Challa while continuing the story of Wakanda within a living cinematic universe. What they’ve delivered is an emotionally weighty, gorgeously rendered film that deeply mourns and ultimately moves forward.
The film begins not with action, but with silence. In a powerful choice, the traditional Marvel Studios fanfare fades into a wordless tribute to Boseman. That moment, and the beautifully choreographed funeral procession that follows, set the tone: this isn’t a standard MCU installment, it’s a meditation on grief. The Wakandan nation’s mourning mirrors our own, and Coogler wisely lets the pain breathe rather than rush back into superhero spectacle.
Letitia Wright steps into the spotlight as Shuri, delivering a performance that evolves from intellectual detachment to emotional vulnerability. Her arc is the film’s emotional spine, a young woman grappling with the loss of her brother, her faith in tradition, and her place in a changing world. Angela Bassett, as Queen Ramonda, is nothing short of commanding. Her grief simmers beneath a regal surface, and in several standout scenes, she becomes the soul of the film, holding together both the kingdom and the narrative.
The supporting cast is uniformly strong. Danai Gurira’s Okoye experiences her own fall from grace and redemption, while Winston Duke’s M’Baku offers unexpected warmth and perspective. Lupita Nyong’o’s Nakia returns with grace and sorrow, and Dominique Thorne makes a spirited debut as Riri Williams, the genius inventor who adds spark and energy to the dense plot.
But the film’s most electrifying addition is Tenoch Huerta as Namor, the MCU’s first major mutant and the ruler of the underwater kingdom of Talokan. Huerta brings quiet menace, cultural gravitas, and a personal tragedy that makes Namor more than just a villain; he’s a mirror to Wakanda’s own history of trauma and resilience. The deep-sea civilization of Talokan is a visual and thematic triumph, reimagining Atlantis through a Mesoamerican lens that enriches the MCU’s mythology.
Coogler’s direction is thoughtful and textured. The battle sequences are visceral, but it’s the quiet moments, a mother’s anguish, a sister’s guilt, a nation’s burden that linger. Ludwig Göransson’s score builds upon the original’s Afro-futurist soundscape while incorporating haunting new motifs for Talokan. Ruth Carter’s costume design once again dazzles, and the production design continues to push boundaries with its blend of tradition and futurism.
Still, the film isn’t without its flaws. At 2 hours and 41 minutes, Wakanda Forever is densely packed. Some narrative threads, including the U.S. government’s involvement, the role of Everett Ross (Martin Freeman), and Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, feel more like setup for future MCU chapters than integral to this story. The final act, though thrilling, feels slightly rushed in resolving such a sprawling and emotionally charged journey.
Yet despite these quibbles, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever achieves something rare in superhero cinema: it acknowledges pain without wallowing in it. It honors the past while carefully laying a path for the future. In a story driven by loss of a leader, a brother, a mother, the film finds hope in legacy and transformation.
This isn’t simply the continuation of a franchise. It’s a cinematic act of healing, reminding us that even in our deepest sorrow, we can rise not in the shadow of those we’ve lost, but in the light they’ve left behind.
Grade: B
