Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, directed by Disney/Marvel veteran Ryan (Creed) Coogler, and co-penned by Joe Robert (Failsafe) Cole, adds to the hero's legacy by assaying his ornate homeland and noble culture. There's only one sorrowful catch. Chadwick Boseman's armored Avenger isn't in it. King T'Challa, we learn, has passed away from an ambiguous disease, even though he's supposed to be immune to any and all diseases.
That misfortunate turn makes this otherwise sprawling chapter awkward. Despite that awkwardness, the tangent sojourn heaps on plenty of tantalizing, audio/visual garnish (including Ludwig Gorranson's multifaceted score and Autumn Durald Arkapaw's otherworldly photography), which sets the pace for T'Challa's focused heir apparent, Letita Wright's Princess Shuri, to take charge. And T'Challa's sister has no choice but to do so, for there's a menacing, new gamechanger in wait, sprung from a Golden Age, Marvel favorite.
As such, Tenoch Huerta's four-hundred-year-old King Namor, the Sub-mariner (aka Kukulkan), leaps from the sea to tear up the scene, as a jaded, Mayan-derived mutant who believes that a crush-the-world alliance with Wakanda would preserve his people, while keeping all weaponizing-vibranium imperialists at bay. Of course, the proposal goes against Wakanda's ideology, leaving the scorned, Talocanian (Atlantean) lord vindictive to a water-bombing extreme.
The unfolding clash between the sheltered worlds is tense (as most warring-nation situations are), but even so, the emotional core would have benefitted from a Rocky III steal, where two seasoned opponents encounter a third, inspiring each other to decimate the new antagonist before the final bell. As it stands, Sister Black Panther isn't structured that way, no matter how hard it tries to insinuate the required, melodramatic angles.
This leaves Wakanda's cultivated (though sometimes snobbish) culture, its proud inhabitants and diligent allies to enlighten viewers. These interludes are highlighted by Angela Bassett's unflinching Queen Ramonda, Danai Gurira's faithful General Okoye, Morgan Freeman's respectful Agent Everett Ross and Dominique Thorne's brainy Riri (aka Ironheart), along with the latter's Iron Man-inspired, Midnight Angels tech. But again, though these characters prove interesting, the ensemble misses that one, essential spirit who would have made all else sublime, perhaps enough to have placed this sequel on a par with The Winter Soldier, The Dark Knight and Superman II (any cut).
Considering how Boseman's death was destined to hinder a viable, direct sequel, Wakanda Forever would have been better realized as a Disney+ miniseries, wherein the kingdom's crowning specialties (in addition to those of Talokan) could have unrolled with much more elucidation. From there, Shuri could have matured toward her own big-screen (no doubt, three-hour) adventure, a veritable Black Panther II, all set and running with no need for a belabored, fit-the-mold ascent.
Perhaps as the years pass and hindsight intervenes, Wakanda Forever will seem a logical insertion in light of Boseman's demise, but for now, as good as the epic is, it just doesn't seem to be as good as it is (if that makes any sense). It's an enterprising wannabe, which quite frankly, falls short of what Panther loyalists were assured. Maybe there's no cause to blame anyone on this woeful basis, but all the same, what a bloody shame.
