Disappointments came quickly as favorite characters were eliminated in the final throes of Thano's dastardly deed. On the screen appeared the warrior-king of Wakanda, T'Challa. As the theater-goers continued holding their collective breaths in shock, Chadwick Boseman started to experience the same fate.
In the middle of his decomposition, a black lady in the front row exclaimed, "Aw, HELL no!"
Her hero was gone. The fictional, but remarkably powerful, heroic inspiration for many black people all over the world, was no more.
I thought about that grieving lady this week. I, too, was aggrieved by the passing of such a powerful actor that has breathed so much humanity into some truly great cinematic characters. I was saddened to hear that his private battle with cancer was happening while he was bringing joy and inspiration to so many, literally the world over.
I am an emotional cuss, my family will tell you, so I blinked back the tears thinking that Boseman's oeuvre, while amazing, would be forever cut short. I know that we fail often at separating the characters on screen from their real life persona, but since we have nothing else to go by, we eagerly ascribe their actions and personalities on-screen to the actors themselves. I know this, but still, with the sheer quality of the people Boseman played, I have to think that he chose parts that fit him well and didn't simply play parts to show off the range of his acting ability.
So, of course, I grieved for the characters he played and hope that they represent the person enough to know that I am grieving for Chadwick Boseman. But I also grieved a bit for the lady in the front row in that dark room way back when, before we knew that he would be magically restored in the sequel (cinema, right?).
Unfortunately, there will be no Infinity Stone miracle this time.
I have thought of that lady all week, in her sincere grief, going, "Aw, HELL no!"