Less Harry Potter and more American Fiction, this politically charged satire is more banal than it first seems.
In 2001, filmmaker Spike Lee, frustrated with the heaps of Hollywood movies with depthless black characters written with little purpose other than to mystically aid their white co-stars, coined the term “Magical Negro”. One film that particularly stoked Lee’s ire was The Green Mile, in which a black prisoner on death row miraculously cures a white guard of his sickness. In his directorial debut, Kobi Libii takes inspiration from Lee’s criticism, even poking fun at The Green Mile; however, in 100 dreary minutes, he says little other than the fact that this trope exists – something Lee already did 23 years ago.
The Society of Magical Negroes opens in a gallery, where Aren (Justice Smith), a skittish biracial artist, is unable to captivate the mostly white visitors with his craft. Instead of being apathetic towards those neglecting his art, Aren becomes servile, even apologetic. This catches the attention of the eponymous Society, a clandestine group that recruits black people just to keep white people happy. Aren is thus brought on board to be one of their magical Negroes.
After Aren comes to terms with his responsibilities as the newest member of the society, the film’s provocative premise becomes consigned to its periphery as it metamorphoses into a half-baked rom-com with Aren falling for Lizzie (An-Li Bogan), a co-worker of Jason (Drew Tarver), a millennial tech-bro he is assigned to assist. Although wholesome, thanks to a captivating performance by Bogan, this does little to develop on the film’s central thesis. If anything, it does the opposite, as it’s Aren’s fascination with Lizzie, a white girl, that sets into motion the events that push him to find his own voice.
Meanwhile, the society repeatedly tells Aren that he needs to walk a tightrope between being “authentically black” and “acceptable to white people”, literally etching these words onto a board at the society’s headquarters. Yet there’s no point in the movie where Libii shows us what this entails. All Aren does is continuously massage Jason’s ego by voluntarily losing to him at table tennis games or praising his work despite Jason’s evident incompetence. He internalises his discomfort, which only manifests after Jason asks Aren to help him get with Lizzie.
Libii does rehash some of Lee’s criticisms of Hollywood through some sharp – albeit over-the-top – one-liners. He explores, through Jason’s entitlement, notions of white privilege and how corporations try to divert from crises through diversity hires; however, he does not commit to a comprehensive analysis or even take a position. It’s difficult to understand what Libii wants to say; his commentary remains aimless, and for every joke that hits, twice as many miss.
At various points, the film seems to be on the verge of something riveting. There is a scene where the tension between Aren and Jason simmers to a boiling point after an uncomfortable back-and-forth, only for it to invariably fizzle out. This is only compounded by the movie’s wonky pacing, emanating from a cliché-ridden script that leans too hard into contrivance; and its simplistic filmmaking, which is almost entirely comprised of medium shots with way too many abrupt cutaways.
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Published 25 Apr 2024
The American Society of Magical Negroes – it’s a mouthful, isn’t it?
There’s some sharp, striking satire, but for every hook that lands there’s two that miss.
Rudimentary filmmaking and a toothless script let down an initially exciting premise.
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