When Marvel Studios introduced Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) in “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” she was somewhat overshadowed by the film’s multiple narratives. The sequel had to address T’Challa’s death, the rise of Shuri as Black Panther, and the geopolitical tension surrounding Namor and Talokan. Three years later, head writer Chinaka Hodge steps in to give Riri the solo spotlight she deserves in “Ironheart.” The new six-episode series isn’t just another excuse to expand the MCU — which, at this point, feels like a given with any Marvel project. At its core, Ironheart is a coming-of-age superhero story grounded in emotional truth, one that celebrates Black genius and offers sharp commentary on gentrification.
Superhero fatigue is real. On the other hand, some projects are overhyped before they even premiere. Only time will tell how “Ironheart” lands with audiences. But to its benefit, the series doesn’t concern itself with the larger MCU machinery. Instead, it stays focused on telling Riri’s story rather than acting as a setup for the next big MCU event.
Set shortly after the events of “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” “Ironheart” follows Riri, an expelled MIT student returning to her hometown of Chicago. Determined to continue building her state-of-the-art suit of armor, Riri finds herself entangled with the enigmatic Parker Robbins, aka The Hood — a complex misfit with ties to dark magic. Together, their unlikely squad pulls off a series of heists, each for their own reasons. For Riri, it’s about leaving her mark on the world. For Parker, his motives are far more sinister. And when Riri realizes what she’s gotten herself into, it’s up to her — and her tech — to undo the damage and stop Parker from using his mystical cloak to carry out his dangerous agenda.
What makes Ironheart work is how it steadily builds upon itself — and specifically, how it builds up Riri Williams. Here, she’s a far more complex character than when we first met her in “Wakanda Forever.” Yes, she’s still the tech prodigy capable of crafting high-powered armor, but beneath all that genius is a vulnerable young woman carrying heavy grief. She lost both her best friend, Natalie (Lyric Ross), and her stepfather, Gary (LaRoyce Hawkins). Riri is prone to panic attacks, impulsive choices, and moments of self-doubt.
While we’ve seen that Riri is perfectly capable of building high-tech armor, the show digs deeper into why she does it. Throughout the season, she has been asked more than once, ‘Why build the suit?’ Why take on this burden? And every time, her answer is the same — “Because I could.” It’s a defensive, almost deflective response. And while it might satisfy the moment, it isn’t the answer her challengers — or the audience — are really looking for.
So, as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Riri’s relationship with her tech is rooted in tragedy. One that circles back to the loss of her loved ones and one that pushes her to build suits that will allow her to protect her support system, like her mother, Ronnie (Anji White), and her best friend, Xavier (Matthew Elam). Although they may not have the expertise to make suits like hers, they possess the emotional intelligence to help guide her in the right direction whenever she finds herself in trouble.
The same can’t be said for Parker. As the chief antagonist of the series, Parker assembles a ragtag crew of misfit hackers, demolition experts, muscle, a wheelman, and a tech expert to pull off heists that affect the community around them. Beneath the veneer of high-tech projects like Tunnl or futuristic greenhouses run by a multibillionaire, the show exposes how these projects often come at the expense of marginalized communities, echoing real-world conversations about gentrification, urban displacement, and exploitation under the guise of tech-driven solutions.
As such, Parker represents the contrast to Riri. The one similarity they share is a tragic story. However, Parker’s grief comes from a place of abandonment from his own father, who saw him more as a liability than a son. Where Riri builds her suit to protect herself and prove her worth, Parker turns to dark magic and crime as a way to take what the world — and his father — denied him.
The two characters create an interesting dynamic, one that goes beyond the usual hero versus villain. It’s a reflection of how grief affects others in different ways and what happens when there is no support system in place. Both are building towards forging an identity they can call their own. They just go about processing their grief in very different ways that lean into the story that fits the MCU.
But what sets “Ironheart” apart from typical MCU fare isn’t just its tech-versus-magic clash — it’s who’s telling the story. Created by Black woman Chinaka Hodge, featuring a majority Black cast and unapologetically rooted in Black Chicago culture, the series celebrates Black brilliance. And not just through STEM achievements but through the quiet, often-overlooked strength of the community. It’s refreshing to see a series where young Black women can not only see themselves as intelligent and superheroic but have their stories centered with honesty, complexity, and care.
And that is not just in the dialogue but also in the visuals and name drops. The little details that ground the show — like Dipo Faloyin’s “Africa Is Not a Country” displayed in a bookstore window or a quick but meaningful name-drop of astronaut and trailblazer Mae C. Jemison celebrate the identity and the genius that “Ironheart” champions.
In addition to making Chicago feel like a character in its own right, “Ironheart” effectively utilizes music to deepen the story. These aren’t surface-level needle drops — they reflect the cultural heartbeat of the show and often reveal more about the characters than their words do. Dizzy Fae’s “Altar” plays during one of Riri’s most vulnerable moments as she pleads her case to the MIT deans for funding. The track, with its themes of transformation and self-empowerment, underscores Riri’s quiet desperation — her acknowledgment that brilliance alone isn’t enough without resources and that, like Tony Stark, she needs support to bring her vision to life. It’s a fitting cue for a young Black woman fighting to be seen in a space not designed for her.
Other music moments lean into humor or emotional intimacy. Alanis Morissette’s ‘You Oughta Know’ blares as we meet Joe (Alden Ehrenreich), a suburban introvert blackmailed into Riri’s world. The iconic breakup anthem plays ironically as Joe gets trampled — figuratively by his neighbor’s dismissiveness, literally by the mess left on his lawn, and emotionally as his secrets slowly unravel. Then there’s Saweetie’s ‘Best Friend,’ blasting as Natalie convinces Riri to finally let loose, or the tender flashback of Riri and her stepfather dancing to Leon Bridges’ ‘Brown Skin Girl,’ grounding the show in warmth and loss all at once.
What makes “Ironheart” resonate is its grounded, street-level tone. It may be set within the MCU, but it balances grief and vulnerability with sharp humor, cultural specificity, and moments of sci-fi spectacle and magic. The longform storytelling that an episodic series like Ironheart provides gives the characters — especially Riri — room to breathe, stumble, and grow in ways a two-hour film simply couldn’t. The show takes its time with them, building emotional connections so that by the time the stakes rise, we actually care about who they are and what fate has in store for them. This is especially true for both Riri and Parker, who, despite having their own families, serve as imperfect support systems.
Thorne anchors the series with a vulnerable yet sharp performance, and “Ironheart” benefits from its supporting players, too. Riri’s dynamic with her best friend Xavier and mother Ronnie adds warmth and a sense of grounding, reminding us that even in a world of tech, magic, and high stakes, it’s the quieter moments of friendship and family that keep her tethered. Their presence, especially Xavier’s ability to see through Riri’s iron defenses, brings a necessary emotional layer to the show. Meanwhile, there’s Ronnie. While not technically savvy, she brings a complementary magical and emotional perspective that contrasts with Riri’s purely technological approach, offering a holistic form of support and guidance.
Then there’s Natalie, the sister Riri never had. Through flashbacks, the series reveals the depth of their bond and the lasting emotional impact she has on Riri’s life. Natalie’s presence lives on in the A.I. Riri constructs, modeled after her personality. Though initially introduced as a glitch, this A.I. quickly becomes a playful challenger and a steady source of encouragement—so much so that she gives herself the name “Neuro Autonomous Technical Assistant and Laboratory Intelligence Entity” or N.A.T.A.L.I.E. since it rolls off the tongue better.
These dynamics feel authentic and necessary, reflecting the complicated ways grief shapes who we become. “Ironheart” isn’t just a superhero story. It’s a thoughtful exploration of loss, healing, and the resilience that follows. Through Riri’s journey, the series shows how grief can be isolating and heavy, yet also a catalyst for growth and connection when met with support and understanding. Sure, the superhero action is fun, and the MCU’s plot twists and surprise character appearances keep things exciting. Plus, the clash between metal and magic adds an extra layer of entertainment.
“Ironheart” reminds us that even in a world of heroes and villains, the greatest battles are often fought within, and healing and leaning on your community for help is a great power.
10/10
