It’s so hackneyed to say that there are too many comic book shows. There definitely are, and the CW is leading the way. I won’t make the effort to name them all here, but rest assured, there are plenty that clutter up the commercials during my Riverdale binges on the CW Apple TV app. [1]
BUT. Don’t sleep on the CW’s newest comic book show [2], Black Lightning. It is one of the better comic book shows currently out there, mostly because it has its finger on the pulse of culture and politics. Black Lightning centers around Jefferson Pierce, a.k.a. Black Lightning, a retired superhero who comes out of retirement to save his city from the grip of gangs, drugs, and violence. Before returning to his capers as Black Lightning, Jefferson Pierce is a local hero in his own right as the principal of Garfield High School. As principal, Pierce empowers the black youth of Freeland through the tenets of education, integrity, and self-confidence. But when the gang known as the 100 begin to creep into the edges of his school, his city, and his family life, Pierce decides to take up the mantle of Black Lightning one more time.
Black Lightning has many of the tropes that you’re used to from comic book stories: a grizzled old hero (played by Cress Williams), back on the beat to stop bad guys, with a weird old white guy sidekick/techie/mastermind assisting our hero on the back end. [3] Of course, there are also bad guys who are violent for seemingly meaningless and/or dumb reasons; and then there are the prototypical high stakes: Pierce’s daughters, Anissa (played by Nafessa Williams) and Jennifer (played China Anne McClain), are coming of age in the tumult of Freeland, hopefully surviving and evolving for the better.
Fortunately, Black Lightning takes its comic book tropes and shapes them into something refreshing: an episodic narrative that celebrates black representation and a nuanced view of the cultural moment. Black Lightning takes place in a mostly black community, Freeland, which is still relatively rare to see on primetime, and is therefore something to celebrate. [4] Yet beyond that, Black Lightning shows us a kind of multi-dimensional superhero that we’ve rarely seen celebrated in the black community, or any community, for that matter: women.
Black Lightning’s depiction of its two female leads, Anissa and Jennifer Pierce, [5] is such a pleasant break from the heroines of the past. They are not love interests for our hero; they are not villainous foibles; they are not sidekicks (at least, not yet). They are their own independent characters coming to terms with the changing nature of themselves and their city. [6]
Anissa, Pierce’s eldest daughter, is a lesbian medical student, an exciting phrase to type, and an engaging character to watch develop. In the beginning of the series, we see Anissa shy away from an unfulfilling relationship, as she slowly begins to uncover her mysterious powers. The actress who plays Anissa, Nafessa Williams, really delivers in this role. Williams conveys the determination and scientific thinking of Anissa from scene to scene with ease. One of the best things about Williams’s character and performance is that she is unafraid to face the unknown and tap into her inner strength to do so (literally, but no spoilers). This character will definitely inspire the young (and even old) girls watching.
Then you also have the relatable Jennifer Pierce, Anissa’s younger sister. Jennifer is a high-schooler bent on making her own way. In the beginning of the series, Jennifer, played by China Ann McClain, is a straight A student, flirting with the dangers of adulthood (and gang life). McClain has been acting for at least the past 8 years, making her a young star that some of the CW audience may recognize and admire. More than that, though, McClain plays Jennifer with the emotional maturity of an older soul. She successfully vacillates between impetuous teen who makes mistakes, to a young adult who knows and understands better after the fact. Jennifer’s decisions to make a wrong choice, but to then learn from them and redeem herself, also makes her an easy favorite for the audience.
One thing both sisters have in common is that they want to save (and serve) their community, and make their parents proud, albeit in different ways. They are one of the reasons why Black Lightning is so great: they are young women of color that have intentions and actions of consequence in a story that is supposed to be centered on another male superhero. I have seen a lot of comic book movies, and the sidelining and/or flatness of the female heroes (excluding Wonder Woman, IMO) is a constant you can depend on. The Pierce sisters in Black Lightning, though, are not your average ancillary characters. They are given their own complicated storylines, their own ambitions, their own voices, and they are why I personally continue to watch the show.
So, before seeing Black Panther this weekend, which everyone is amped up to see, make sure that you take a peek at the CW’s Black Lightning. Black Lightning has many merits, from its casting, storyline, and music, to of course its incredible female leads. We need more women kicking ass on TV, and you can definitely find them in the Pierce sisters.
Black Lightning airs on Tuesday nights at 9PM on the CW, but is also available streaming through the CW website and app.
Endnotes
- What a discouraging sentence for a grown woman to write.
- It is possible that 5 other new comic book shows have come out since this one started, so this is a figurative usage of “newest.”
- WOWGS, for short (Weird Old White Guy Sidekick), played by Dexter’s dad. [6] Seriously, what is with this trope of a white guy with the actual god-like powers of omnipresence/surveillance? Creepy.
- This is changing slowly, with the success of Empire on FOX, black-ish on ABC, and other great shows on paid and premium cable (Insecure on HBO, The Chi on Showtime, grownish on Freeform, and several more I am sure I am unaware of).
- This sentiment also applies to Lynne Pierce, played by Christine Adams, their mother.
- This must be credited, at least a little, to Brock Akil, one of the show’s creators. Brock Akil is a long-time writer and producer of television for black women (whose credits include Moesha, Girlfriends, and Being Mary Jane, to name a few). She worked along her husband, Salim Akil, to help develop this show for the CW.
- James Remar.
Amusing Ourselves to Death 