T’Challa and Shuri have reunited just in time to face their fiercest enemy yet. And unknown to them, the entire Intergalactic Empire of Wakanda is watching the battle, waiting to see who will rise to take their rightful place as Emperor of Wakanda, on Earth and in the stars. Black Panther: Intergalactic #4 is written by Victor LaValle, drawn by Stefano Nesi, colored by Bryan Valenza and lettered by Ariana Maher.
She and I had the most beautiful intimacy: a language all our own, a way of speaking without words or, if we decided to use words, a shorthand that made perfect, complete, aligned sense to us and only us.
The last time we spoke, in passing by happenstance, we exchanged the pleasantries you’d extend to a co-worker you only see in the break room every other day.
“HI. I’m well. Glad to hear it. Take care.”
She went from being my home to talking to me like HR; efficient and direct, with her only desire to plow through the conversation as quickly as possible.
I know you see where I’m going with this.
Black Panther: Intergalactic started off with such promise: mysteries, an expansive cast, the implication of a slow-roll plot with character development, deceit and the continued expansion of a space-faring dynasty.
This final issue, however, goes out not with a bang, nor a whimper, but something much more offensive for something I’m passionate about: mere pleasantries.
The big bad is taken out with one punch. The once and present King T’Challa dominates, barely breaking a sweat. All the “bad guys” are given a clean slate (and some admittedly cool names). None of the innuendo from the Imperial miniseries is mentioned.
The status quo is regained and maintained.
(Side note: The group of clone mutants — including and Archangel and Emma Frost analogues — are almost certainly never going to be seen again, which is a shame: A comic rooted in familiar characterizations, centering on what identity means in all the ways one can be identified, would be amazing. But it’s never happening.)
And while I don’t necessarily mind a status quo that places King T’Challa back as the emperor of an intergalactic empire (as opposed to an excommunicated outsider), the lack of drama, the lack of conflict, the clean bow with which this was wrapped up — all of this bothers me. This was a clinical and quite frankly unmemorable end to an intriguing concept. This series began as an epic and ended as the kind of story that would make up the plot of a not-so-memorable 1980s cartoon.
To be clear, the execution of the issue was fine; I’m disappointed in its ambition. Victor LaValle is an amazing writer, and I suspect the story he would have told would have been amazing; unfortunately, it appears he was given an edict to wrap things up neatly and quickly, as the entire Imperial line has (allegedly) been shut down. If true (and I kind of surmised as much in last month’s summary), I’m assuming creators were directed/expected to tie up loose ends quickly and efficiently. If I judge the book by the standard of what (I assume) it’s asked to, then Black Panther intergalactic #4 does a passable job; it’s just massively disappointing that the job itself is little more than drudgery. More was teased. More was possible.
But, at the least, this serves as a palate cleanser to maybe something better.
And I have a dream about what would make this line — and Black comics, if not comics as a whole — much, much better.
I’m writing this on the day after the 98th Academy Awards. Sinners, maybe my favorite movie of the 2020s, was nominated 16 times; it won four awards, and arguably should have won at least three more (supporting actor, director, production design). Michael B. Jordan, anime fan, museum aficionado and one-time Superman hopeful is now an Oscar winner; his partner in cinematics, Ryan Coogler, is now one, too. Ryan now has the hottest hand in Hollywood, and a green light to do just about whatever he wants, however he wants. His next film, of course, is Black Panther 3. I know nothing about this movie, save it will feature Denzel Washington in some way (which on its own is insane — good insane! — for a number of reasons). That Ryan has expansive ideas unbound by the limits of systems — Hollywood standards, horror movie convention, the expectations of empowered Black men — means that I, fairly or not, have huge expectations for the film. And it’s because of his history of system and convention breaking for the better that I have an unconventional dream ask:
Ryan Coogler should write Black Panther’s next ongoing.
He’s a comic fan. He knows how to storyboard and trust auteurs with his vision (what is a cinematographer but an illustrator with a camera for a pen?). He clearly loves and understands the character in a way that resonates with millions of people worldwide. He’s forever bound with the character, and has every motivation (including fiscal!) to ensure the character is a success in any and every medium.
Obviously his plate is full; comic writing is not a part-time hobby, and requires a level of dedication someone as busy as him likely does not have. There’s also the question of ownership — of knowing the characters and story you write will be owned by the studio, given to them freely for a pittance. There are any number of other writers who could do just as good a job (including the current writer, who, frustratingly, did not have the runway to tell the story he wanted, and Cheryl Lynn Eaton, whose Blood Hunt miniseries stands as one of the best Panther stories of the decade, if not the millennium).
But love and talent, which so many others have in abundance, are not enough: Ryan has leverage to ensure the comic is handled correctly, with care.
With everything he shares, he speaks with an uncensored language of love. His intention and personality are imbued in every film cell, every line of dialogue, every frame and camera angle. It’s an intimacy he forms with the audience, building a shorthand that makes perfect, aligned sense to the audience.
And if nothing else, Black Panther is in need of less banal edicts and more intentional love.
Black Panther: Intergalactic was fine, but (likely) knee-capped by comic politics, hurting fans and the character’s lore alike. Both need saving. Both need a champion.
Both would benefit from the world’s leading creative auteur leading the charge, imbuing a language of love in a space sorely in need of it.
Buy Black Panther: Intergalactic #4 here. (Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate, ComicsXF may earn from qualifying purchases.)
A proud New Orleanian living in the District of Columbia, Jude Jones is a professional thinker, amateur photographer, burgeoning runner and lover of Black culture, love and life. Magneto and Cyclops (and Killmonger) were right. Learn more about Jude at SaintJudeJones.com.
