Luke Cage reinvents itself along with its hero
After the mystical and enigmatic happenings in The Defenders, it’s a real treat to return to the down-to-earth setting of Luke Cage. The subject matter feels familiar; the thrilling chess game of the underworld, dirty cops, drugs, stylish musical performances, and jazz and that’s a good thing. The season two premiere of Luke Cage feels confident and controlled. It feels like a comfort after other more daunting cross-over events in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Most notably, Mike Colter shines in his portrayal of Luke Cage in the premiere. Something has changed in the writing and performance of Luke. In the first season, Luke and most of Colter’s performance felt burdened by obligation and in The Defenders, he played the elder statesman in his scenes with Danny Rand. In “Soul Brother #1,” he’s still the same Luke, a little corny and pragmatic, but there’s a new sense of play in the performance this season. Whether Colter is still riding high from his charismatic turn in Girls Trip or if some of the pressure has been taken off Luke Cage to represent blackness in the Marvel Cinematic Universe after the release of Black Panther, Luke no longer feels like the concept of responsibility and duty personified. It’s most likely that this is Colter’s third season portraying the hero and he’s settled into the role. There are still stately monologues from Luke and he’s still looking over his shoulder, but at the same time, Luke is feelin’ himself.
There’s a new lightness to the series. The episode’s direction by Lucy Liu is slick. Action doesn’t lumber around the screen; it glides. Luke and Claire’s relationship feels sexy and playful. The dance between Claire and Luke before their sex scene reveals a new friskiness between Rosario Dawson and Mike Colter. Mariah’s relationship with Shades is imbued with that same friskiness and while Mariah is searching for her next move, she’s more than content to throw her sexuality in people’s faces. I am here for a hot, older bitch sucking on a thumb in public. It feels like ten years have been shaved off every character.
This episode was laser focused on the idea of image and reinvention. Luke is stepping into his role as Harlem’s Hero. Pop’s Barbershop has become a defacto gift shop with random white dudes with GoPros stumbling in to catch a glimpse of Luke. Luke is carefully selecting charity t-shirts to wear when he busts up trap houses for maximum impact on camera. Even his name has become a commodity with drug dealers labelling their product “Luke Cage.” All he has is his name and he’s doing what he can to protect it. But Luke isn’t the only one concerned about how to capitalize on whatever is left of their fame, looks, and strength.