#movieramble

Another ramble by The Pop Culture Ramble

So I just watched Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning. Great stunts, cool explosions, Tom Cruise sprinting like he’s trying to outrun time itself — you know, the usual. But what caught my attention this time wasn’t Ethan Hunt or the IMF. It was Angela Bassett.

Angela. Damn. Bassett.

As the President of the United States. And she was convincing, commanding, and absolutely radiating that “leader of the free world” energy like she was born for it.

But it made me pause. Because it’s not the first time we’ve seen this fictional America — the one where a Black woman can hold the highest office in the land. Viola Davis did it in G20. Regina King has played roles commanding armies and justice. Even in Shonda Rhimes's TV empire, Black women are everything from fixers to presidents. Hollywood keeps pitching this dream of a future we never seem to arrive at in real life.

And it made me think of Kamala Harris.

She was right there. First Black Vice President. First woman Vice President. And for a moment, it felt like history was going to repeat itself — in the best way. First Black president? Check. Now the first Black woman president? The timeline almost made sense.

Until it didn’t.

Until America did what it does best: get scared of a mirror and break it.

Because let’s be honest — Kamala should’ve been the next logical step. She had the credentials. The momentum. The backing. But instead, we got the rerun nobody asked for: Donald Trump, again. TWICE. A man who’s currently on trial more than he’s on television. And yet, he gets re-elected while a capable Black woman gets sidelined like she’s asking for too much just by existing?

Make it make sense.

Actually, don’t. Because I know exactly what it is.

It’s misogynoir. That special brand of hatred reserved just for Black women — not just misogyny, not just racism, but the cursed cocktail of both. It’s why Kamala’s laugh became a talking point, why her confidence was called arrogance, why her every move was hyper-analyzed while white mediocrity is given chance after chance to burn the house down.

And yet, in movies, we keep seeing Black women as presidents, commanders, superheroes, warriors, gods. It’s like Hollywood knows something the electorate doesn’t — or refuses to admit. They create a fantasy where a Black woman can hold power because, deep down, they know the country will never let it happen for real. So they do it in fiction. Where it’s safe. Where it’s controlled.

But here’s my problem with that:

If the people consuming these stories don’t get the point — if they think it’s just “cool casting” or a diversity checkbox — then what’s the point of the fantasy?

The people voting for Trump don’t walk out of Mission Impossible thinking “Wow, maybe we should elect a woman like Angela Bassett’s character.” They either ignore it, mock it, or worse, see it as a threat to “their” America. They live in the same broken system as everyone else, but as long as their guy is in power, even if it burns down around them, they’ll roast marshmallows in the flames before they vote for someone like Kamala.

That’s not just fear. That’s willful destruction.

And yet, American cinema keeps pretending like we’re progressing. Like if we show it enough, it’ll manifest. But the truth? America doesn’t want to see itself for what it is. So it projects who it wants to be — even when the evidence says otherwise.

You can’t keep casting Black women as the leader of the free world when your real world would rather watch it crumble than let one actually lead.

Maybe that’s harsh. Maybe it’s too much.

But I’ve lived through Trump getting elected twice. I’ve watched how people flinched at the idea of President Hillary Clinton, and how they smirk at the mention of Kamala. I’ve seen how quickly America forgets the hope it once bought into with Obama, and how bitter it became when that dream proved too "disruptive" for the comfort of whiteness and patriarchy.

So I ask again: why does Hollywood keep selling a lie?

Or maybe — just maybe — they’re telling the truth through fiction. Maybe it’s the only place they can show an America that’s brave enough, evolved enough, just enough to let a Black woman lead. Maybe they’re not selling a lie — they’re showing the ghost of a possibility that died before it had a real shot.

But it still feels cruel.

Because some of us are sitting here, watching Angela Bassett be president, while knowing that Kamala Harris was right there… and the country looked at her and said, “Nah. We’ll take the chaos again instead.”

It’s not just disappointing.

It’s exhausting.

Anyway. That’s been another ramble from the PCR.