Black is King (2020) dir. Beyoncé, et al. Rated: TV-14 image: ©2020 Disney+

Black is King (2020)
dir. Beyoncé, et al.
Rated: TV-14
image: ©2020 Disney+

In the glut of remakes Disney has released in which they make a cash grab by simply reshooting their animated classics as live-action versions, their 2019 retelling of The Lion King is one I missed. (To be honest, I think 2019’s Aladdin is the only one of these that I’ve seen. To me, they seem like cynical bits of content trading on raw nostalgia. I found Aladdin superfluous at best.) The general impression I got of director Jon Favreau’s remake of The Lion King is that it was a CGI – so, basically animated – shot-for-shot remake of the original; a project lacking in purpose outside of making a huge sum of money.

Inspiration for something truly original can come from anywhere, though, and singer/songwriter/megastar Beyoncé – who played Nala in the Lion King remake – used the Disney property as a jumping-off point for something fresh, stunning, exciting, and unapologetically in praise of blackness. Black is King is a visual companion art piece to Beyoncé’s tie-in album The Lion King: The Gift, in which the artist “reimagines the lessons of The Lion King for today’s young kings and queens in search of their own crowns.”

Beyoncé is credited as Black is King’s director, writer, and producer, although the end credits list a whole host of supporting directors, writers, and producers helping to bring this sprawling, ambitious art film to life. Beyoncé is, without a doubt, the central driving creative force at the head of the project, and her vision is a thing of power and mesmerizing beauty.

Black is King is so original, finding other works of art to put it up against for comparison is a challenge. The film version of Pink Floyd’s The Wall probably comes closest to getting the job done. Both projects – Beyoncé describes hers as a “visual album” – make a film narrative out of their respective collection of songs.

In this reimagining of The Lion King story, Simba is a young African prince who is cast out into the cruel world. He must listen to the stories and lessons of his ancestors in order to return to his rightful place as heir to the throne. Black is King, as well as the album The Gift, uses lines of dialog from The Lion King to give the projects a basic narrative structure. Beyoncé’s vision doesn’t need these connections. They are the least interesting thing about Black is King.

The real power of the picture – what feels, in some sense, like an extended, 85-minute music video – is Beyoncé and her visual team’s focus on avant-garde aesthetics. The film’s powerful use of costuming, make-up, and hairstyling – what the end credits list under the heading “Glam” – along with meticulous poses and carefully orchestrated camera movements all combine to create striking visual tableaux. Beyoncé and her cinematographers also rotate between several film formats (16mm, digital, video) in order to give the movie a very tactile feel.

As you might have noticed, it’s hard to describe the plot of Black is King. On top of its visual symbolism and abstract form, the movie feels very much like a dream. Its gorgeous and endlessly interesting visual patterns and entrancing soundscape combine to draw you into its world. You don’t so much watch Black is King as let it wash over you.

Beyoncé’s film also hits the scene at a very apropos moment. In the wake of the mounting world-wide Black Lives Matter uprisings, as a result of the horrendous police killing of George Floyd, Black is King celebrates black – and specifically, African – heritage. It seeks to empower and praise a culture which Western civilization has marginalized for centuries.

As a middle-aged white guy, I’m certainly no expert on the myriad references to African culture contained within Black is King, but I know they’re there, and Beyoncé frames them in such a way that makes me thirsty to know more. Chief among my interests is the film’s ties to Afrofuturism.

And lest you think Black is King has nothing to offer we melanin-challenged folk, nothing could be further from the truth. In addition to the opportunity to expand your horizons when it comes to an experience other than your own – because that’s what non-shitty people should always be actively doing – the movie is a cornucopia of enchanting visual references. One sequence featuring dancers in a swimming pool turns Black is King into a Busby Berkeley musical for thirty seconds. There is also a funeral sequence in the movie that echoes – in everything from costuming, set design, and even human motion – the films of Chilean experimental filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky, specifically his surrealist film The Holy Mountain.

The movie has taken a few hits for classism and problematic stances which I frankly feel ill-equipped to tackle (the links I’ve included will have to suffice), but the defense I can offer is that this middle-aged white guy was deeply moved by what he saw. Black is King is a revolutionary piece of art; its creator is a one-of-a-kind artist.

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Why it got 4 stars:
- Black is King is such a visual and auditory feast. I’m a sucker for experimentalism in film, and this certainly fits the bill.

Things I forgot to mention in my review, because, well, I'm the Forgetful Film Critic:
- “A journey is a gift to the rooms of your mind.” This movie is informed by and speaks to the Black experience, but this quote is a message of wisdom to all of us.
- Throughout Black is King (and really I mean The Lion King: The Gift) Beyoncé uses Auto-Tune. I know she’s a good enough singer not to need it, so I’m assuming it’s an artistic choice. Maybe I’m just showing my age, but every instance of it grated on me.
- I loved seeing all the cameos. From her kids, to her husband Jay-Z, to Lupita Nyong’o, and an incomplete Destiny’s Child reunion with Kelly Rowland, it was fun spotting all the familiar faces.

Close encounters with people in movie theaters:
- What’s a movie theater? I’ve almost forgotten.

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