The American Society of Magical Negroes (2023 | USA | 104 minutes | Kobi Libii)
Conjuring something between Hogwarts and Kingsman, Kobi Libii imagines an “American Society of Magical Negroes” as a real world organization behind the “supportive black friend” trope. Its an odd mix of fantasy, comedy, and commentary but it played very well from an enthusiastic audience receptive to its themes and eager for representation of modern contradictory existence.
In this rom-com wrapped in a fuzzy satire, Justice Smith plays Aren, a sputtering yarn artist, who we meet at an awkward gallery show. He strikes out at wooing sales from rich donors with his abstract sculptures, but his pathetic attempts and supreme discomfort make are enough to get him recruited into a shadowy organization by a no-nonsense David Alan Grier. There, amid centuries of history and collective magical powers, he accepts a well-paying opportunity and commits himself to working alongside an elite corps dedicated to being the unsung uplift in the lives of hapless white people. It’s a tough job, but it has its perks and plays a part in safe advancement (as elder statesman like the headmaster played by Nicole Byer insists from her levitating vantage).
In this case, he’s parachuted into a design firm to boost the confidence in the the work life of a well-meaning, but delusional tech-bro (Drew Tarver, in a role as self-centered if less flashy than his outstanding turn on The Other Two). The only problem, story-wise, is that Smith (and his incredible collection of sweaters) has far too much below-the-surface rizz for the gig. It sets up a frustrating if classic love triangle, but that poses an issue for the film itself.
Once the rom-com angle takes off — in large part through the magnetism of An-Li Bogan — the movie can’t quite decide what it wants to be. The already out-there fantastical elements, played for laughs initially, often get cast aside when they get in the way of any real life issues that become more compelling. When the magic parts come back, they’re sometimes intrusive, other times maudlin, and often at odds with themselves. There are plenty of laughs, skewering of white fragilitythe practiced oblivion up and down the ladder of a misguided startup (including some daring accent work from Rupert Friend). Still, quibbles aside I can’t deny the muddle contains some strong emotional beats, smart insights, and enough funny pieces scattered throughout even if the threads don’t entirely knit together.
The American Society of Magical Negroes played in the Premieres section; Focus Features will release it later this spring.