Jamelle Bouie NYT, Bio, Age, Wiki, Family, Salary and Net worth

Jamelle Bouie is an American journalist and columnist for The New York Times. He was formerly a chief political correspondent for Slate Magazine. According to the Columbia Journalism Review, Bouie is “one of the defining commentators on politics and race in the Trump era.”

Jamelle Bouie Biography

Jamelle Bouie is an American journalist and columnist for The New York Times. He was formerly a chief political correspondent for Slate Magazine. According to the Columbia Journalism Review, Bouie is “one of the defining commentators on politics and race in the Trump era.”

Jamelle Bouie

Jamelle Bouie Age

Jamelle Bouie was born on April 12, 1987, in Virginia Beach, Virginia, United States. Jamelle Bouie is 32 years old as of 2019.

Jamelle Bouie Net worth

Jamelle Bouie earns his income from the journalism work and his businesses that he runs. He also earns from Awards industry. He has an estimated net worth of $ 1 million.

Jamelle Bouie Family

Jamelle Bouie family are not recorded in his records but we will update in due time. In 2012, he was chosen for The Root Magazine’s Root Top 100. They stated that “he is a strong, influential and necessary voice during the 2012 election season and beyond.” Forbes magazine recognized Bouie in their “30 Under 30 – Media” list in 2015, saying that “he became a leading voice on the Ferguson story.”

Jamelle Bouie Education

Jamelle Bouie was born in Virginia Beach, Virginia. He attended the University of Virginia in 2009 where he graduated with a B.A degree.

Jamelle Bouie Awards

Jamelle Bouie was awarded a writing fellowship in 2010 for the magazine The American Prospect. Then in 2012, he was awarded a Knobler Fellowship at the Nation Institute by the print magazine The Nation. In 2013 Bouie became a staff writer for The Daily Beast, an online magazine, writing about national politics. In 2014, he moved to Slate Magazine as a Chief Political Correspondent. In 2019, he joined the New York Times as a columnist.

Jamelle Bouie Journalist

In 2013 Bouie was a contributor to Barack Obama and the New America: The 2012 Election and the Changing Face of Politics, a book about the 2012 presidential election edited by political scientist Larry Sabato. In 2013, he published the blog post “What Does It Mean to Be Privileged,” which has since been widely praised. He writes articles focusing on history, public policy, and national politics including the 2016 presidential race. He also writes about entertainment, such as science fiction, comics, and film.

In 2012, he was chosen for The Root Magazine’s Root Top 100. They stated that “he is a strong, influential and necessary voice during the 2012 election season and beyond.” He also has written extensively on racial politics including the Ferguson unrest, the Charleston church shooting, and the subsequent Black Lives Matter movement. Shortly after Donald Trump was elected president in 2016, he wrote a controversial article for Slate arguing that there was “no such thing as a good Trump voter.”

Several days earlier, he compared Trump voters to the “angry, recalcitrant whites” who pushed back during the Reconstruction era after the Civil War. He has criticized the media for an unwillingness to label racism as “racist” (opting instead for terms such as “racial” and “racially charged”). He criticized the media for its “horse-race” coverage of the 2016 election. His writing on racial and national politics subjects is often quoted by other journalists. Since 2015, he has been a political analyst on CBS News.

He has frequently appeared on the network’s Sunday morning show Face the Nation, as well as during the network’s election night 2016 coverage. In January 2019, the New York Times announced that Bouie would join their lineup of Opinion columnists. The Times stated that (Bouie has) “consistently driven understanding of politics deeper by bringing not only a reporter’s eye but also a historian’s perspective and sense of proportion to bear on the news. His interests, as you will certainly know if you’ve been a reader of his newsletter as well as his columns, range well beyond politics to the visual arts, food, and movies.”

Jamelle Bouie Batman

Jamelle Bouie, Ben Affleck, and Warner Bros have finally stopped pretending that Zack Snyder didn’t murdalize Batman so badly that he already has to be rebooted barely a year after his last on-screen appearance, it’s time for the casting game. Except for this time, folks aren’t here to play. After catching wind of Playlist editor-in-chief Rodrigo Perez calling for Daniel Kaluuya as the next Bruce Wayne, New York Times opinion columnist Jamelle Bouie tweeted his way through an epic thread where he reimagines Batman as a black American that goes far beyond just “racebending” the character.

Even as a lifelong comic nerd who loves the shit out of these spandex goons, at the end of the day, I recognize that they’re fictional characters that should be bent and stretched in all kinds of interesting ways to tell compelling stories about our world. You’ve got a guy who jumps off of rooftops without breaking every bone in his body, has a freaking arsenal wrapped around his waist, and hangs out with a flying alien in his spare time, but somehow making him black is unrealistic? Get the f*ck outta here.

And don’t come at me with “honoring the original creator’s intent” because we’re talking about a bunch of white guys in the 1930s who, even if they did want to write about a black superhero, would have a hell of time getting it published let alone read by a racist as hell general public. Also, and this seems to be the hardest concept to grasp, but making Batman black doesn’t permanently erase the almost century worth of content where he’s lily spanking white. Take it easy, David Duke with a Mylar bag.

Anyway, back to Bouie’s pitch. Right up front, Bouie confesses that he’s drawing heavily from David Walker’s Nightawks, but his version of a black Bruce Wayne is easily better than a shitload of Batman stories floating around out there. (For example, Dark Nights: Metal. Yup, I said it.) In Bouie’s mind, the Waynes are still wealthy philanthropists, but as “descendants of prosperous free northern blacks” who arrived in a Chicago-esque Gotham and established a prominent HBCU. However, it’s their murder in Crime Alley where Bouie’s pitch really takes hold:

Jamelle Bouie Black Panther

Jamelle Bouie is involved in the show of Black Panther, which is the latest entry in Marvel’s shared cinematic universe, is a remarkable feat of world building and visual craft. It’s setting, the fictional central African nation of Wakanda, is a technologically advanced wonderland light years ahead of the rest of the world that lives and breathes, unlike anything we’ve seen from Marvel Studios or the superhero genre at large. Its protagonist, King T’Challa who fights in defense of his nation as the Black Panther, equipped with a bulletproof suit and imbued with enhanced strength, speed, and agility is played with both regal confidence and real vulnerability by the versatile Chadwick Boseman. But what drives Black Panther isn’t its visuals or superheroics. What drives the film is its pursuit of the idea that arguably defines the superhero genre, best articulated in 1962’s Amazing Fantasy No. 15: “With great power comes great responsibility.”

And what makes Black Panther unique is that it pursues this in the context of its characters and its setting. It asks not just, “What is T’Challa’s responsibility to Wakanda?” but “What is Wakanda’s responsibility to the world?” First, the basics. Black Panther is unmistakably a film from Marvel Studios, with all the humor, action, and callbacks to past movies that act as connective tissue between the different entries in its mega-franchise. But it strains against that template. Throughout the movie, director Ryan Coogler delivers moments that feel as rooted and personal as anything in his previous films, while building environments that carry a real sense of atmosphere and place.

Wakanda is fantastical, but in Coogler’s hands it feels as real and as lived in as the Oakland, California, of Fruitvale Station or the Philadelphia of Creed, the two films he wrote and directed before signing up with Marvel. With Killmonger, Coogler and Jordan give us the single most compelling villain in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Chadwick Boseman anchors the film, but he is nearly upstaged by an impressive cast of cinematic veterans and relative newcomers. Lupita Nyong’o shines as Nakia, T’Challa’s close confidante who hopes to see her country take a larger role in the world.

The Walking Dead’s Danai Gurira gives what ought to be a star-making turn as Okoye, the fierce leader of Wakanda’s royal guard. Letitia Wright steals the lion’s share of the movie’s laughs as Shuri, T’Challa’s younger sister and a technological wunderkind who develops the tools and weapons deployed by her brother. (It is worth noting here that this is probably the first movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe in which women drive the story and plot as much as their male counterparts.) Angela Bassett, Forest Whitaker, and Andy Serkis give more than capable performances, as they are wont to do, and Sterling K. Brown makes an unexpected, moving appearance as an important relative of the king.

The most dynamic performance, however, comes from Michael B. Jordan, a longtime collaborator of Coogler’s who dominates the screen as Erik Killmonger, T’Challa’s chief rival. With Killmonger, Coogler and Jordan give us the single most compelling villain in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It’s not just Jordan’s muscular build and physical presence. It’s the fire in his eyes. Driven by pain, anger, and ideology, this is a character who believes in his cause with an almost religious fervor. And critically, it’s hard to say that he’s wrong.

Which gets us back to the ideas in Black Panther. The plot is straightforward. Set shortly after the events of Captain America: Civil War, the film begins as T’Challa prepares to take the mantle of king. When an old and dangerous adversary appears on Wakanda’s radar-carrying a stolen cache of vibranium, the fictional metal that is the source of the nation’s wealth the new monarch springs into action, hoping to bring him to justice while securing Wakanda’s future and continued secrecy. But his path crosses with Killmonger, who hopes to use Wakanda’s power and technological prowess to spark a revolution of oppressed peoples around the world, exporting weapons and assistance to those who suffer under the boot of racial oppression.

From the view of the American-born Killmonger, Wakanda and its leaders are morally bankrupt. They’ve isolated themselves with their wealth and technology, indifferent to the fate of the African diaspora. They have great power, but they won’t take responsibility, cloistering themselves away from the world, when they could rule it, inverting racial and colonial hierarchies. “The sun will never set on the Wakandan empire,” declares Killmonger at one point in the film, imagining a future where an unconquered people become conquerors themselves in the service of liberation. Black Panther is the most political movie ever produced by Marvel Studios.

It’s a provocation that flows directly from the premise. If there were a Wakanda powerful African nation that never experienced colonization and white supremacy wouldn’t it have an obligation to those African peoples, and their descendants, who lacked the resources to defend themselves? And if it took revolutionary action to liberate them, wouldn’t that revolution be justified, just desserts after centuries of theft and bloodshed? Killmonger, a man who has experienced racism intimately, says yes. T’Challa, privileged to have never experienced the sting of color caste, says no. And Nakia, who has traveled the continent and believes Wakanda has a humanitarian duty to the world, plots a middle course. With great power, what exactly is the responsibility?

Of course, Black Panther isn’t a political thriller. These conflicts and tensions play out in action as much as dialogue, and the ideas come naturally. There are no mouthpieces speaking on behalf of the writers. But it is fair to say that Black Panther is the most political movie ever produced by Marvel Studios, both in its very existence it’s the most expensive movie to have ever starred an almost entirely black cast—and in the questions its story raises. Indeed, the ideas are almost too big: There are times when you wish they, and the characters, had more space to breathe.

The best superhero films don’t transcend the genre as much as they embrace it in all its respects. Richard Donner’s Superman: The Movie captured the wonder and optimism of the Superman mythos. Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2 did the same, fully realizing the earnest melodrama and quotidian feel of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko’s first comics. Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight distills both Batman and the Joker to their cores and raised the bar for what this kind of blockbuster could accomplish.

With its aesthetic ambition, depth of imagination, and genuinely challenging themes, Black Panther belongs with this group. It doesn’t just capture the essential qualities of the character, it expands on the concept itself, standing as a film that matters for what it says as much as what it is. Black Panther could have been just another Marvel romp—a fun but ultimately disposable entry in the studio’s catalog. But Ryan Coogler and company had the power, and perhaps the responsibility, to do much more. And they did.