“Queen & Slim” Reminds Us That Black Love Is Worth The Fight
Source: Universal Pictures / Universal Pictures
With #BlackLove constantly cluttering our newsfeeds, it’s easy to write off the hashtag as just another gimmick for engagement versus a declaration of commitment. But beyond the superficial posts online, there is a real life movement bubbling in the veins of our communities that stands brave and defiant against the hellish circumstances of our lives—and that movement seeks to revive trust between Black lovers.
Lena Waithe & Melina Matsoukas’ latest film, “Queen & Slim,” picks up on that pulse, reflecting back to us all the heat, sweat, passionate loyalty and divine intelligence that only comes with loving us, as us. The heart of Black love, in its purity, is a call and response to not only love and respect yourself, but to love the ones who look like you as an extension of our larger selves. The heroes in this tale are not devoted based on a longterm relationship, instead, they walk hand in hand with a stranger connected only through history and hue.
During the opening sequences of the film, two lives collide and forever intertwine after a Tinder date turns into a twisted date with fate. A “routine” traffic stop, which is usually a marker of death for us, suddenly becomes an invitation for two people to fully and truly live for the first time. The unlikely pair are forced to take off on a quest for freedom and are Underground Railroad shepherded on their journey through the unknown.
Throughout the most precarious of scenarios, Queen and Slim find meaning and laughter despite their notorious “on the run” status. There is an unspoken safety and comfort that allows them to confidently dance pass the threats from “the man” while still finding space for joy.
And perhaps our love has always survived this way, through the alchemy of finding sanctuary in each other’s skin when we were told it was ugly or through making a generational delicacy out of pig intestines and throw away greens. We are the people who have always made something from nothing.
In fact, our survival is so inexplicable that they call it magic sometimes—black girl magic. And while they dismiss it as sorcery, we are merely flesh and blood committed to love in a way that’s unconditional, and when diligently practiced, godly.
“Queen & Slim” reminds us that this nirvana is possible in everyday interactions. Black love isn’t some Camelot or a destination, it’s a daily practice. This film calls to the part of us that knows Black love is worth the fight in all its forms which can be as simple as a neighborhood head nod or fixing a plate.
And if we do that—cultivate love and tend to its roots through seeing each other and holding each other as we heal ourselves, we will live forever. Because love, particularly Black Love, never dies. We are proof of its enduring legacy.
