The American Society of Magical Negroes’ greatest transgression, despite its thought-provoking title, is its dullness. This is a nice notion in theory, almost like a very specific parody of Key & Peele carried to a bizarre extreme, but it feels uncomfortably drawn out over the course of an endless feature storyline. The way the society is shown is disjointed; it appears and disappears from the narrative to the point that it seems more like a side plot than the main idea of the movie.
The film, which was written and directed by Kobi Libii, centers on the struggling artist Aren (Justice Smith, who is the only thing keeping this together). He is surrounded by white people who don’t understand his work or really give him any attention at all. The movie centers on the societal norm that white people should be appeased rather than challenged, and Smith emphasizes this meekness in Aren. A parody of this can be found in the American Society of Magical Negroes, which takes its name from the popular movie cliché of the wise Black character who comes to save their newfound white companion from their emotional load.
Its truly bizarre concept sounds as though the volume has been completely turned down.
Everything seems plodding, with the supernatural element itself appearing hazily imagined and the genuinely strange premise having its volume completely dialed down. Why does the title’s “magical” element seem so unnecessary given how important it is to the joke? The subject of why these choices are being made is raised throughout a large portion of Libii’s movie. There is only one joke that truly makes sense in this satire, which illustrates its point with a monologue that is neither overly humorous nor biting.
Unfortunately, Libii’s visual direction is likewise lifeless; none of its physical humor has any energy or timing, so Justice Smith has to bear a lot of the humor in his shocked and uncomfortable reactions. The performer emerges from this relatively undamaged, as if he or she is living in the eye of a storm of badly performed ideas. It’s amazing. Even in an odd mid-film shift into a mumblecore-flavored romantic comedy that honestly indulges in cliché before exposing its point too late to make any real impact, he uses pure willpower to make what little character he is given work. Unfortunately, the entire picture feels like too little, perhaps even a decade too late for its central theme to have a lasting impression amidst the plethora of more intelligent social satires directed towards and starring Black creatives.