In 1966, I was six years old when my mother and cousin took me to see Walt Disney's Bambi at a movie theater in Downtown Los Angeles, which was crowded with movie theaters at the time -- as lovingly documented by a kind soul -- but without any warning about the movie itself, except it was for children and it was animated and I was completely involved and enthralled as I sat between my mother and cousin in the big, dark, lovely movie theaters.
It was in color! It was big! Our family's television set also displayed in black-and-white and was relatively small, as I recall, though plenty big for six-year-old me, at least until I saw Bambi on a big beautiful screen. I was completely caught up in the movie, so much so that it felt like my little heart stopped when Bambi's mother unexpectedly met her demise.
Before that moment, I don't recall experiencing the death of anyone in real life. Bambi was the first movie I saw in real life, on a big screen, and without commercial interruptions. I was devastated. My other and my cousin had no idea that I was traumatized, since I was a quiet child anyway, and they probably couldn't see any facial indicators that I was traumatized rather than simply bored or peaceful or respectful as I trudged along behind them on the bustling streets of Downtown Los Angeles, filled with people who had no idea that I had seen death for the first time, writ large and in color.
These memories came rolling back to me when I finally caught up with Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, which debuted on Disney Plus on February 1. Because I had missed the original press screening and wasn't in a financial position to attend a theatrical screening, I avoided as much of the press coverage as possible, though I recall hearing that writers Ryan Coogler and Joe David Cole had thrown out their original script for the sequel after Chadwick Boseman died in August 2020, which caught everyone involved in the production unaware.
The off-screen death of T'Challa (Chadwick Boseman) is handled at the beginning of the film, which then leaves the story free to examine the consequences of a world without him. His death hangs over every character, however, in a manner that feels familiar from personal experience. His death is felt in the actions of every character.
Obviously, death affects everyone in different ways; some to a greater extent, some to a lesser extent. Some grieve in public, some grieve in private. Some want to talk about it, some do not ever want to talk about it. Each person's grief is solitary and, yes, survivable, but grief lingers all our lives, and is rekindled each time another loved one passes away, each time someone that played a big role in our lives comes to their earthly end.
Time lessens the pain, but does not eliminate it. While I was watching Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, which, like most Marvel movies stretches on and on, and is filled with intricately animated, dynamically varied action sequences that feel like they will never end, I found comfort because I had time to think about other things, and to consider loved ones who have passed away, some at a premature age.
Black Panther: Wakanda Forever feels like a very fitting memorial to a friend who died unexpectedly from a horrible disease, far too young.
Are you children ready to see a film that runs two hours and 45 minutes, and is soaked in death and destruction? Only you know if they are ready to be traumatized. Be nearby, and be ready to talk or listen, whether your viewing companions are your children or fellow adults who don't normally watch Marvel movies.
Death is an enemy, and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever is a movie that is filled with death as its characters endeavor to deal with death as an enemy. Can they do that successfully? Only time will tell. [Disney Plus]