Ending compromises by the American Society of Magical Negroes in places where they shouldn’t be

The American Society of Magical Negroes is an uncomfortable film for many reasons – most of them intentional. The title clearly describes this intention. The film’s main character, a biracial black sculptor named Aren (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves co-star Justice Smith), tiptoes through an art gallery—and through his own life—as if he’s constantly walking on eggshells, consciously and unconsciously in pain from the weight and expectations of the white gaze. Unable to emphasize the value of his work as an artist or his value as a person – or simply unwilling to do so – he exudes an aura of discomfort that immediately catches the attention of Roger (David Alan Grier), a kindly elderly black man who just happens to be, you guessed it, a “Magic nigga.”

Kobi Libii’s writing and directorial debut attempts to strike a balance between presenting a satirical secret society of black men and women with magical powers, exploring Aren’s awakening awareness of his own needs and desires, and confronting the fragility of white expectations despite all attempts. to highlight the presence of racism in everyday society.

Unfortunately, the film’s scope exceeds its grasp, ending in a final act that feels like a concoction born of the desire for a happy ending rather than a satisfying or meaningful conclusion. The film satirizes the prioritization of white people’s comfort over all other considerations, but then sidesteps those potentially high stakes for the sake of an indulgent, easy solution.

Arrived early The American Society of Magical NegroesAren is recruited into a secret network of black men and women who – in keeping with the trope Spike Lee identified in 2001 – comforting and supporting white people while voluntarily putting their own lives and desires on hold. Libii reveals a rationale that explains this trope: the Society wants to soften white people so they are less likely to lash out against people of color.

Aren’s natural submissiveness makes him the perfect candidate for this type of work. His first client, Jason (The other TWO‘s Drew Tarver), a disgruntled employee of a social media company called MeetBox, seems to be a relatively easy fit for Aren’s particular skill set. But when the film introduces a love interest, MeetBox’s star collaborator Lizzie (After Yang‘s An-Li Bogan), the film’s satirical focus begins to splinter into a fantasy bordering on romantic comedy that foreshadows the fatal misstep of the film’s ending.

Throughout the film, Aren is torn between his feelings for Lizzie and his responsibilities to the Society, which strictly forbids him from pursuing a relationship with her once Jason becomes interested in her. During Aren’s initiation into the Society, he is told that its magic is supported by the members’ collective agreement to adhere to the rule of appeasing white people, even at the cost of their own happiness.

He has been told that failure to adhere to this directive will compromise the abilities of everyone in the Society – so members who prioritize their own desires in any way will be immediately expelled, stripped of their powers, and stripped of their memories deleted. Faced with this ultimatum, Aren is forced to decide whether he will continue to suppress his own feelings and serve the interests of the Society, or whether he will shun his responsibilities and risk forgetting that he ever knew Lizzie.

(Ed. remark: Significant spoilers ahead The American Society of Magical Negroes follow from this point.)

It’s a compelling conflict, one that forces Aren to reflect on his commitment to solidarity with a just cause (making the world a safer place for black people) and his discomfort with the way coddled white vulnerability affects his own life and happiness as a black person influences. The American Society of Magical Negroes asks audiences to question why the “Magical Negro” trope exists at all, and in what forms this trope still exists today. It asks whether the “magical nigger” is an intrinsically American concept, and if so, why? These are interesting, provocative questions, ripe for the analytical clarity that satire provides. That makes it all the more disappointing that Libii’s film doesn’t rise to its own challenge.

Aren ultimately decides to tell Lizzie his true feelings, despite the consequences. But when he can’t find her, he’s pushed to his limits by Jason, who expects Aren to serve as a sign of diversity during a live-streamed global presentation of MeetBox’s new rebrand.

Offended, Aren confronts Jason during the stream and chastises him for his casual racism. His growing frustration with Jason’s inability to see how his words and actions affect other people reaches a peak when Aren gives an impassioned speech on the livestream. Finally, he asserts his own worth as a person and stands up for the validity of his thoughts, feelings and experiences.

It’s a moving, cathartic moment, a necessary culmination of Aren’s character arc, which eschews the Society’s servility in favor of brutal, vulnerable honesty. Knowing that the Society will punish him for his insubordination, Aren uses his magical powers to take Lizzie away from MeetBox and confess his feelings for her, before being taken away himself to face his punishment.

As Aren’s mentor, Roger is tasked with erasing Aren’s memories as part of his expulsion from the Society. But he is unable to perform the spell, as Aren’s act of defiance has inspired other Society members to take action in turn, disrupting the group’s solidarity and weakening their magic. Aren, having parted ways with the Society with his memories intact (and possibly his own magical powers? It’s unclear), reunites with Lizzie and they walk into the horizon together.

It’s meant to be a feel-good ending, but even if it feels good at the time, it quickly sours when you think about it. Allowing Aren to keep his memories on a technicality undermines the significance of his decision to be honest about his feelings and overcome his discomfort at the cost of losing his memories of Lizzie. He knows he may never see her again, but he still stands up for himself and grows as a person because of it.

The complete lack of consequences for that choice – and the fact that Roger doesn’t seem to learn anything or make an equally daring choice in turn – feels like a cop-out. The ending feels as false as a magical negro appearing out of nowhere to solve the hero’s problems: the twist is just shy of a deus ex machina, allowing Aren to have his cake and eat it too. Finally, The American Society of Magical Negroes prioritizes Aren’s relationship with Lizzie over his growth as a person, with Libii opting to make the film a crowd-pleasing, fantastical romantic comedy rather than a sharp or satisfying satire.

There’s also the matter of the Society itself: by the end of the film, its existence and philosophy remain fundamentally unchanged, with Aren’s resistance affecting virtually nothing. The film presents this ridiculous, gruesome setup in which magical black people surrender to white people to mediate racism, but it does very little to explore what is wrong with that idea on a societal basis. It only takes into account that this setup does not work specifically for Aren. The American Society of Magical Negroes leaves its biggest, most important questions unasked and its potentially most relevant messages unsaid. It is evidence of a lack of courage to navigate difficult truths, a lack of clarity about the purpose of the ultimate intention. No amount of magic can fix that.