Winston Duke on giving audiences heroes they can identify with and why he needs to visit SA
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Black Panther star Winston Duke opens up about loss, grief, body image and his love for being a part of a movement of change
Four years ago, Black Panther hit audiences like a tsunami, leaving a social and cultural footprint that changed the world in many ways. It became the superhero film to solidify the argument for more diversity and representation in movies and won an Academy Award, which inspired a new generation of Afrocentric storytellers. As the credits rolled, audiences wanted more.
With the untimely and unfortunate passing of the film’s starring actor Chadwick Boseman two years ago, uncertainty remained as to how the story of the Black Panther would continue. His death, felt by millions worldwide, forced director Ryan Coogler to rethink the movie that’d become Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. One thing for sure was that it’d honour the late actor and be a labour of love to what Boseman and his character, King T’challa, stood for.
The long-awaited sequel hit theatres in November 2022 and again captured the hearts of millions.
‘The reaction to Wakanda Forever has been incredible,’ says Duke. ‘We made the movie with great intention, hoping to create a sequel the audience could connect with in the same way they had the first film. What we’ve done with this movie builds on that connection, inclusivity and creating a space to give Black and brown people mythic heroes with whom they can identify.
‘At the moment, there’s little real estate for Black men and Black expression in cinema. It’s a real act of generosity by Ryan Coogler and the rest of the creative team to share that space with brown narratives. And to give brown people, in their diasporas, a mythic hero who feels larger than life, who’s unapologetic and takes into account the trauma of colonialism and post-colonialism and, says, hey, this is yours. These are warriors influenced by your history whom you can look up to, so you don’t have to look for universal identification through us – you can have your own.’
Duke says returning to the role of M’baku and understanding who his character is wasn’t difficult. ‘With a character you’ve played before, you’ve already laid the groundwork for their dialect and behaviour, so it’s really about opening them up and leaving them vulnerable to change due to present circumstances.
‘And the present circumstance for my character and I, the actor, was pain, loss, grief, confusion, having to charter an unknown course, finish a project and try to make something beautiful out of something we hadn’t seen coming. We didn’t foresee losing Chadwick; we didn’t foresee losing T’Challa.
‘Our return to the Black Panther set was bittersweet. I was really happy to be back there with friends but very sad about the circumstances. It was heavy on the heart to continue this amazing story without Chadwick physically with us, yet feeling his presence everywhere.
‘One of the hardest questions we asked was why him? It seems unfair that a young man with so much to live for and plenty more to give was taken away by what feels like an act of the universe. His death was neither the result of a drunk driver nor an act of violence, personal disregard or neglect. It was cancer, and that’s unfair.
Expanding on his preparation for playing M’baku in the sequel, he says, ‘I wanted to make him physically bigger, but also reflect that he’s different from the last time viewers saw him. Now, he’s a leader. He’s also more of a politician.
He’s gotten more sombre. He has more weight on his shoulders. There’s more grey in his hair and beard – which isn’t a reflection of age, as it’s only been four years, but more a reflection of ceremonial respect. As I like to describe it, he’s more “big daddy Mbaku” in this one. He’s the silverback gorilla of his tribe, and I wanted him to really lean into that.’
To bulk up for the role, Duke worked out twice a day, six times a week, for two months. ‘I had to put on 6kg. I wanted him to feel heavier yet defined and flexible. [Achieving that involved] a lot of cardio, weight lifting and flexibility and agility training
The body you’re in
It’s no secret Duke has an immense and commanding presence, not only due to his scene-stealing capabilities on screen but his (literal) size. Standing almost two metres tall and weighing over 97kg, he’s a big guy. Has his size changed how the industry views him and influenced his career progression?
He answers, ‘Great question! Most definitely. It’s been helpful because it’s made me specific. The directors I’ve worked with see my size as something that adds a layer of complexity to my characters. When you have this largerthan-life person being vulnerable and emotional, it changes the dynamic of what viewers see on screen. A good example is my character in Nine Days.
‘In the past, viewers wouldn’t have seen people who look like me through that lens and their bodies usually led the conversation. I’m the same size as The Rock (Dwayne Johnson), and if you look at his roles, they’re mainly physical. If you’re large in size and physicality, most of the roles designated to you are physical because the way they communicate is body first, mentality and emotions second and third.
‘But with many of the roles I’ve been playing, the directors have taken the opportunity to reveal the character’s inner self, reflected through the physical medium, which differs from what viewers expect and ultimately shifts their perspective. And I think that’s great.
‘I can’t get a good picture on the red carpet to save my life! Photographers often shoot me from poor, low angles using specific lenses to distort my image. I think many red carpet photographers and people that shoot quickly are adding their own lens of intimidation, reduction and simplification.
‘I have a dynamic, big body and I’m complex. I’m a big guy who’s comfortable and confident wearing bold patterns, shapes and colours. I’m big, but I’m no Imhotep! But looking at some of those red carpet pictures, you’d swear I was a giant.
And then, when I take pictures for an editorial piece, where photographers make a concerted effort to make the images look good, shoot from flattering angles with the right lens, it’s beautiful. In those images, I see what I see in the mirror, what the people who love me see. So, I don’t have dysmorphia; you guys have dysmorphia.’
Duke’s always accepted his body and felt comfortable in his skin. ‘I have good people in my corner to remind me how beautiful I’ve always been. Growing up, my mother would say, you’re a prince.
Even when we didn’t have much, she struggled to put food on the table and times were tough for her, she’d say, always remember, you’re a prince, you’re beautiful, and you deserve it. Whenever I doubted myself and said, no, I’m not right for that part, she’d tell me I deserved it. She’d ask me, why not you? That’s what I got from my mother and many other women. They’d always remind me how beautiful I was.
‘Yes, I went through that awkward phase of not trusting my size and height and, for a long time, I’d lie on my résumé and say that I was 1.9m, never 2m – I felt too big. But my insecurities and luck of having people to lean on and remind me of my beauty intersected at a helpful place. I got a good start in my late teens. I’ve had more support than not from my loved ones.’
Farewell, Mama Coco
Duke speaks candidly about grieving his mother’s passing in October 2022. Affectionately known as Mama Coco, he describes her as his best friend. ‘Losing my mother has been the most painful, challenging and confusing experience. The pain comes and goes, and anything can trigger it.
‘My pain is amplified by the blessing of this moment that I can’t share with her, and that I had an incredible, intimate relationship with her. She lived with me for her final four years. We were very close – she was a part of my daily routine and relationships with my friends. She was an active, mainstay pillar in my life. My pain is worse because I didn’t have a distant relationship with my mother. I didn’t have the sort of relationship where I only saw her every six months, once a year or only during the holidays.
‘It’s not just the holidays that are hard for me but every day. It’s waking up and not seeing her come out of her room. It’s not hearing about what dreams she had the night before. It’s not getting the warnings – people of the African diaspora’s families give them many warnings from their dreams.’
He says it’s also hard grappling with the guilt of feeling something less than sadness during this difficult time.
‘People believe I can’t be out there smiling and laughing, promoting a movie and yet be in mourning. Inside, it’s been gut-wrenching. And I get told, oh, man, you must be doing so great, and I’m, like, it’s not one or the other.
‘Then there’s survivor’s remorse. Why’s she gone, and what does it mean to be here without her? Emotions are complex. I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I would’ve liked to last year because I was working. To a degree, I question the cost of these good things happening to me.
‘The advice that I’m receiving is that time helps. I’m in that place of being good to myself and being patient. That’s the only thing that I hear helps. I’ve learned the best advice comes from people who’ve also suffered a loss because they’re less likely to sugarcoat it with phrases such as “they’re in a better place” or “they’re happier now” and more likely to focus on you in the present.
I’ve realised the most challenging aspect of grief is uncertainty. That’s what I’m trying to navigate now.’
Love, storytelling – and a visit to South Africa?
How does Duke define love? ‘It endures uncertainty and insecurity while transcending all doubt about what’s possible, who you are and what you want and deserve – those become clearer because of it.
He says the film What Dreams May Come, starring the late Robin Williams, is one of his favourite love stories.
‘It’s a beautiful love story about transcendence, a husband and wife who lose their children in a car accident, and [Williams’s] character dies and ends up in heaven. Then, his wife commits suicide. And he has to find her in the afterlife. She’s in the underworld. She doesn’t remember him; she’s stuck in his grief and pain. Eventually, he decides to give up trying to help her, accept that’s where she is, and not stay with her in hell – and that’s essentially what gets her out of it.
‘He saves her when he decides to stop trying to change the situation and accept that the only way to see someone’s pain is to accept it. I think it’s one of the most amazing love stories. It’s incredibly deep and timeless. It’s a beautiful and powerful story based on a book.’
He says his romantic relationships aren’t in the public sphere because he tends to look at relationships as precious commodities you can only protect them by keeping them private.
‘I find the court of public opinion isn’t very forgiving and doesn’t understand nuance. When you have any level of fame, privacy becomes your line of defence. A relationship is almost like an infant, and you wouldn’t put an infant out into the world unprotected. You’d raise that infant to survive – you wouldn’t let your children out until they were adults.
‘I tend not to expose my relationships to the world until they’re adults. Relationships are valuable. I’m looking for that. I’m dating. But until it’s an adult who can face the wilds of public scrutiny and the public lens, I’m going to keep it private.’
His ultimate dream as an actor is to continue to tell epic stories from every genre that encourage viewers to feel and look at the world differently and become more introspective.
‘I love the idea of helping audiences escape. Society tries to make everything reductive: how to see yourself, the world, others, your pain, their pain, joy and love, and that you can only be comfortable if you feel a certain way. But another person’s life has nothing to do with your comfort.
‘How people define things depends on the individual. Once we stop being reductive, we can get closer to being inclusive. I want to tell big stories that allow for less reduction. Everything I do, I try to add a little bit of that.’
Asked what the biggest misconceptions about him are, he says that, once again, it boils down to reduction.
‘People think you have to be a certain way. If I’m too serious, then I’m scary. If I’m playful, I’m not serious enough and probably not smart. If I’m very smart, I’m boring. Because I’m driven by artistic influence, I’m not the guy who wants to come to the party and the club. I’m all things; I feed every part of my being. I find it very frustrating that the world wants to be so reductive because they want to review you quickly. And I don’t think we need that.
‘I go through a lot of internal mayhem. Am I acceptable? Maybe, I need to share more of myself and my life on Instagram. At the same time, I’m asking, how do I protect myself? Early in my career, I said I didn’t want to be famous for the sake of being famous. I didn’t want Winston Duke to be the entertainment. I wanted to contribute my skillset as a generative artist, but I didn’t want my personal life to be other people’s entertainment. That’s where you risk losing yourself.’
Part of Wakanda Forever’s promotional tour was a historic premiere in Lagos, Nigeria. The major event was the first time a Marvel movie has held a premiere on the African continent. ‘So you guys come to Africa and skip South Africa?’ we ask. Duke laughs, ‘That wasn’t our call!
‘I need to come to South Africa. I feel I’ll find a home in South Africa. Something tells me it’s one of those places I’ll find a real attachment. The South Africans I meet, I get along with immediately. I get their humour. I’m attracted to the people, to the women. I need to come down. We need to make it happen.’