Coogler is not formal to the subject and is probably why through Jordan, his best asset, he blatantly rubs hard on the matter.
Coogler’s incense stick burns slow but has an enchanting fragrance that teases our speculations with thought provoking familiar themes. With Ryan Coogler, the director, on the realm, he has a politically correct film as the crown, it may not age well, but it definitely is the headline of the today’s newspaper. The up rise in the rich culture that it sparks is unfortunately a double edged sword, as much as it is essential to shine the light on the other side of the door, it also is necessary to be nuanced in that very speech, unfortunately at a certain point it grows loud- the forced humor is probably the dullest of the franchise- and undermines the quality. Chadwick Boseman as the king, never feels like the “king”.
He may have all the James Bond-alike gadgets but his body language isn’t flamboyant as his competitor Michael Jordan. But then, to be honest, it is Jordan’s film from the start. With a ferocious provocative performance his leadership has much more jarring impact than Boseman could ever cast. And Jordan single-handedly carves this film like his appealing figure, the film grows three dimensional when his opinions come alive, only because every other character is given a baggage, except for him, and then he too is cooked with those same ingredients.
This middle act is where the film wins all the credit and as much as gritty this very act is, the last act shucks that earned respect as it gets reduced to a fist fight in the end- the commercial aspect once again anchors the flight of another bohemian chapter of the MCU. Coogler offers enough to ponder about and enough to exhale for, the gold that it digs for, comes with a price that as an audience we are paying for unknowingly, it is not manipulative but an inadequacy to cut deep, for the time the myth, the king, the Black Panther is their reliable protector.