A low-budget black take on 1991’s King Ralph, this comedy oddity stars Senegalese-American rapper Akon as Sebastian, an ex-con who, having a hard time finding work, stumbles upon the hustle of dressing himself and his buddies up in African costumes and begging white people for alms. Imagine their surprise when the Priestess (Nse Ikpe-Etim) and her entourage arrive from Africa to inform them that, verily, We Wuz Kangz. In fulfillment of a 400-year-old prophecy, Sebastian is whisked to “The Kingdom of United States of Africa” to become its ruler. (“Nigga, who are you? Marcus-ass Garvey?”) As with King Ralph, much of the humor revolves around royal prudery as contrasted with invigorating American irreverence and egalitarianism: African courtiers outraged at the sight of white bimbos in bikinis, etc. What ultimately matters to the filmmakers, however, is how much solemnly prophesied wealth black people have coming to them.

2 out of 5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that The American King is:

Pro-drug. Sebastian’s friends and grandmother are all weed heads.

Pro-gun. A store proprietor and her customers foil a robbery attempt by pulling guns.

Racist! One of Sebastian’s friends “can’t tell the difference” between Asian Indians and Mexicans. The movie also makes light of American blacks’ misconceptions about the Dark Continent: “I thought y’all lived in trees and shit.” Sebastian and his friends are also afraid to get off the plane when they arrive, worried they might be attacked by cannibals.

Islamophobic! An Indian fears that Americans will deport him to Pakistan, where he expects to be beheaded.

Russophobic. The hero owes $10,000 to Russian gangsters.

Populist. “Let’s say we take every drone and every bomb and convert it into fish and bread for the people.”

Anti-white. Africa, The American King reveals, enjoyed 1,000 years of peace and prosperity before the Portuguese arrived. It turns out it was Africans fleeing the horrors of colonialism who established the original American colonies, again enjoying a period of peace and prosperity – even helping the newly arrived Pilgrims survive – until European usurpers falsified they Constitution and enslaved them. Somewhat at odds with the premise of African wisdom and generosity as juxtaposed with European violence and evil, however, is the depiction of black deviousness in playing white women for suckers. Sebastian and his buddies, in posing as Africans and begging for money during the first part of the movie, find that gullible white women are willing to open their wallets for seemingly any cause that bears the holy stamp of blackness. Alternatively, the hero suggests that whites’ generosity can be motivated by hostility: “I just started my GoFundMe account, a’ight. All these white folks gonna put mad money in there to ship my black ass back to Africa.”

Conspiracist. “Everything we think we know about history has been an elaborate cover-up.” The song that opens the movie references a “secret society” and also claims, “The government are killing us.”

Trumpist. Probably unique among cinematic representations of the 45th US president, The American King features a Trump-like commander-in-chief (Brad Potts) who is dopey but well-meaning and even committed to anti-racism. Perhaps in a nod to Trump’s 2020 “Platinum Plan”, the fictional president proclaims the “African Renaissance and Reparations Act” in a bid to be remembered as “the greatest president of all time.” The edict aims to “Make Africa Great Again” by transferring one trillion dollars to King Sebastian. In addition, the president promises to withdraw all aid to Europe to make amends for that continent’s suppression of African achievement. Sheeeeit.

Rainer Chlodwig von K.

Rainer is the author of Drugs, Jungles, and Jingoism.