Yes, I'm a little late to the party, but not for lack of trying to get there. The MCU has its ups and downs for me. Its almost theres and its near-misses. Add to that the fact that I am not much of a binge watcher and what you get is a long, drawn out attempt to finish a TV show. Without the pressure of having to watch a live first run, just knowing that episodes are there and that I can catch up later means that unless a series is crazy compelling (I'm looking at you Sherlock Holmes and Stranger Things) then I don't necessarily feel rushed to watch … anything. It's at my leisure and with the million and one must do things that exist in the course of a week, Netflix TV series typically get abandoned on the back burner.
Despite my love for the MCU on the actual big screen, I haven't been as committed to the plot arcs happening on the little big screen. I loved what I saw of Agent Carter and I've been a casual, at best, Agents of Shield viewer. Daredevil was intriguing, but at three episodes in I was intrigued without being committed and never finished it. Then came Jessica Jones and it was love at first sight. Kristen Ritter was perfection and I gobbled up the thirteen episodes in quick time. And then there was Luke Cage … now, Luke Cage was a long, slow burn. Enticed by all of the yumminess that is Mike Colter, I wanted to love Luke Cage from jump street. Alas, I did not. I liked it, it was entertaining, but even with the amazing Merhershala Ali chewing up scenery as the villainous Cottonmouth, it took awhile for me to commit. So, I started it in 2016 and finished the series two years later.
Luke Cage does a lot of things right and a lot of things are done rather cleverly. I love that Luke Cage is a bulletproof black man fighting crime and saving lives in the neighborhood all the while wearing a hoodie. It's a powerful appropriation of what has become an iconic symbol representing the state of race relations in America. In Luke Cage, the ubiquitous hoodie, a representative threat on a black man is ultimately expanded into a dual symbol of persecution and righteousness. For every bullet hole littering Luke Cage's hoodies we are reminded of every dead black person felled and failed by a system that systematically erases individual identity and refuses humanity because of ignorance and intolerance. In a universe where black lives are everywhere and the focal point for the narrative itself, Luke Cage reminds us that Black Lives Matter as a movement and as truth.
Luke Cage's Harlem is a complex society made up of good guys and bad guys, the morally bankrupt, the conflicted, victims and heroes in all facets. I loved that Luke Cage wasn't the only good guy and it's made very clear that lots of people are working together to achieve an end to the tyranny in Harlem. From Claire Temple to the mature black cop in Cage's convoy detail who lets him get away, these are champions for good. We all do our part here. Everyone.
The thing that I loved the most about Luke Cage goes hand in hand with the thing that I liked the least because, of course, you have to take the sour with the sweet. For all of the amazing people that populated the Harlem of the show, the women were the most amazing. A cavalcade of complex, conflicted women who killed the game every damn episode. They were AMAZING! Powerful, decisive, conflicted, corrupt, hopeful. OMG, if Rosario Dawson called Luke corny one more time while smirking at him because she KNOWS her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard … She might just be my new girlcrush (sorry Eliza Dushku but those eyes and that mouth, huh). Claire was also never about the easy answers or the simplest path. She was a woman who got done the things that needed doing regardless of fear or personal risk. She followed her gut and gave her everything. Simone Missik's Misty Knight and Alfre Woodard as Mariah Dillard were equally as mesmerizing. All of the shades of gray that make-up people in real life were woven together in these characters and in their interactions so that in all of their over the top shenanigans there was the heart of the true and the real. It made them infinitely believable and sympathetic.
For all that I loved how complicated and capable the women of Luke Cage were, was how much I disliked the largely flat, cartoonish, one-note men who populated the series. This is where the series fell down. With the exception of Cottonmouth, the villains were villains in big bold letters. The problem seemed to be one of steam and time. The second half of the series, as the plot ramped up and threads needed to be pulled together, there was a flattening of the men that didn't happen with the women. Replacing Cottonmouth with Diamondback gave us a crazy, raging cartoon villain but it also nuanced Mariah Dillard as we got to see more of darkness and all of her fear. She was enriched, but the series lost a fascinating counterpoint to Cage in Cottonmouth. We did also get Priscilla Riley and how much did I just adore all of these powerful and complicated women of color.
The storyline was serviceable and the visuals were gorgeous despite the 70's blacksplotiation feel. There were moments in the beginning where I thought that I was watching a period piece and I don't really get that. So, overall, a fun ride and great color (pun intended) for the MCU.
Despite my love for the MCU on the actual big screen, I haven't been as committed to the plot arcs happening on the little big screen. I loved what I saw of Agent Carter and I've been a casual, at best, Agents of Shield viewer. Daredevil was intriguing, but at three episodes in I was intrigued without being committed and never finished it. Then came Jessica Jones and it was love at first sight. Kristen Ritter was perfection and I gobbled up the thirteen episodes in quick time. And then there was Luke Cage … now, Luke Cage was a long, slow burn. Enticed by all of the yumminess that is Mike Colter, I wanted to love Luke Cage from jump street. Alas, I did not. I liked it, it was entertaining, but even with the amazing Merhershala Ali chewing up scenery as the villainous Cottonmouth, it took awhile for me to commit. So, I started it in 2016 and finished the series two years later.
Luke Cage does a lot of things right and a lot of things are done rather cleverly. I love that Luke Cage is a bulletproof black man fighting crime and saving lives in the neighborhood all the while wearing a hoodie. It's a powerful appropriation of what has become an iconic symbol representing the state of race relations in America. In Luke Cage, the ubiquitous hoodie, a representative threat on a black man is ultimately expanded into a dual symbol of persecution and righteousness. For every bullet hole littering Luke Cage's hoodies we are reminded of every dead black person felled and failed by a system that systematically erases individual identity and refuses humanity because of ignorance and intolerance. In a universe where black lives are everywhere and the focal point for the narrative itself, Luke Cage reminds us that Black Lives Matter as a movement and as truth.
Luke Cage's Harlem is a complex society made up of good guys and bad guys, the morally bankrupt, the conflicted, victims and heroes in all facets. I loved that Luke Cage wasn't the only good guy and it's made very clear that lots of people are working together to achieve an end to the tyranny in Harlem. From Claire Temple to the mature black cop in Cage's convoy detail who lets him get away, these are champions for good. We all do our part here. Everyone.
The thing that I loved the most about Luke Cage goes hand in hand with the thing that I liked the least because, of course, you have to take the sour with the sweet. For all of the amazing people that populated the Harlem of the show, the women were the most amazing. A cavalcade of complex, conflicted women who killed the game every damn episode. They were AMAZING! Powerful, decisive, conflicted, corrupt, hopeful. OMG, if Rosario Dawson called Luke corny one more time while smirking at him because she KNOWS her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard … She might just be my new girlcrush (sorry Eliza Dushku but those eyes and that mouth, huh). Claire was also never about the easy answers or the simplest path. She was a woman who got done the things that needed doing regardless of fear or personal risk. She followed her gut and gave her everything. Simone Missik's Misty Knight and Alfre Woodard as Mariah Dillard were equally as mesmerizing. All of the shades of gray that make-up people in real life were woven together in these characters and in their interactions so that in all of their over the top shenanigans there was the heart of the true and the real. It made them infinitely believable and sympathetic.
For all that I loved how complicated and capable the women of Luke Cage were, was how much I disliked the largely flat, cartoonish, one-note men who populated the series. This is where the series fell down. With the exception of Cottonmouth, the villains were villains in big bold letters. The problem seemed to be one of steam and time. The second half of the series, as the plot ramped up and threads needed to be pulled together, there was a flattening of the men that didn't happen with the women. Replacing Cottonmouth with Diamondback gave us a crazy, raging cartoon villain but it also nuanced Mariah Dillard as we got to see more of darkness and all of her fear. She was enriched, but the series lost a fascinating counterpoint to Cage in Cottonmouth. We did also get Priscilla Riley and how much did I just adore all of these powerful and complicated women of color.
The storyline was serviceable and the visuals were gorgeous despite the 70's blacksplotiation feel. There were moments in the beginning where I thought that I was watching a period piece and I don't really get that. So, overall, a fun ride and great color (pun intended) for the MCU.