40 Days, 40 Moments in Art — Day 3: When Okoye Ditches the Wig
Was it just me or did the women of Wakanda steal the show in Black Panther? This was no small feat in a film where Chadwick Boseman transforms into the title role and the insanely talented Michael B. Jordan gives us what might be the most nuanced and complex villain in the history of the M.C.U. Yet, in spite of the strength of these characters and more, to me the real shining stars were the women.
Angela Basset fully embodied the regal aura and refined wisdom of Ramonda, a true queen on the screen. Letitia Wright was brilliant as T’Challa’s tech-savvy sister, Shuri (I use the term “brilliant” because she was smart… and witty… and because Letitia is a British-Guyanese actress… and “brilliant” sounds like something a person in Britain would say… when she’s not saying “What are those?!”). Lupita Nyong’o made us fall in love with her all over again, but was more than just the token love interest. Her character represented a forward-looking Wakanda, the difficult tides of change, a new hope for Africa and the world at large.
And then there was Okoye.(Exhale… deep breath… take a moment…)
In sharp contrast to Lupita’s Nakia, Okoye (played by the incredible Danai Gurira) stands tall and unwavering as the bastion of Wakanda tradition. She serves as the leader of the King’s bodyguard, the Dora Milaje and her loyalty to her homeland, her dedication to its identity and ultimately the secrecy that has protected it for generations, is one of the primary motivators of her character.
The fact that Danai Gurira shaved her head for the role is not insignificant. The bald look is usually taboo for women, a sign of vulnerability or hard-core counter-cultural sensibilities. It’s a look that’s generally reserved for random 80s celebrities or “victims” giving weepy monologues from hospital beds. Yet, Danai not only “pulls it off,” she turns the shaved look into a sign of strength and confidence (at least in the humble opinion of a random white dude that knows next to nothing about hair, aka the author, aka “this guy”). It’s almost impossible to imagine her character any other way.
For King T’Challa, Okoye’s baldness is both normal and expected as is the way in which he depends on the women in his life for protection and counsel. Wakanda offers a peak into a world where women and men share in the important work and are valued accordingly, yet it never seems to suggest a society in which gender is discarded or dismissed as some sort of antiquated social construct. Okoye is a fully realized character with her own flaws, fears, and frailties, but she always manages to embody the best aspects of Wakanda: strength tempered by patience, tradition boldtered by innovation, and the ability to handle adversity with confidence and grace.
When T’Challa, Nakia, and Okoye find themselves working undercover in a sort of high-society shmooze-fest, Okoye wanders upstairs in a red dress and wig. She’s the first to realize that the party has been compromised and ensures she that she has the last word on the matter.
Unlocking her telescoping spear, she literally throws her wig into the face of an incoming hitman. It was a simple action that felt natural and in-character in the moment, but deeply symbolic in hind-sight. It was as if she was freeing herself from the bondage of Western beauty standards while fully embracing her own. It was as if she was throwing the heavy burdens that all too often weigh women down back in the face of the patriarchy. When she spun her spear around her neck and took care of business with her own brand of breathless bad-assery, I literally cheered out loud.
Okoye showed us all the ways that a female can be fierce without losing an ounce of femininity. In ditching the wig and grabbing her spear she seemed to declare the simple truths embodied in her traditions in a roaring voice that would not and could not be ignored:
Bald is beautiful.
Black is beautiful.
Wakanda is here: forever.
