RZA’s latest film, One Spoon of Chocolate, seeks to capture the Jordan Peele social horror influence, but falls short both as a martial arts spectacle and as an incisive social drama. Premiering at the 2025 Tribeca Film Festival, the film offers little in the way of impact, struggling to merge themes of racial tension and genre violence in a convincing or compelling way.
While RZA’s reputation as a key figure in the legendary rap group Wu-Tang Clan is undisputed, his transfer of a lifelong wuxia martial arts fascination into filmmaking has so far produced mixed results. Previous directorial efforts like The Man with the Iron Fists, co-written with Eli Roth, and work on Marvel’s Iron Fist set some expectations, but One Spoon of Chocolate’s execution suggests a lack of cinematic fluency, particularly when measured against its bold ambitions.
Inspired by ‘Get Out’ but Struggling with Execution
The film leans heavily on the long shadow cast by Jordan Peele’s Get Out, whose groundbreaking approach to social horror set a high bar many have aspired to but seldom matched. One Spoon of Chocolate’s opening prologue directly echoes Peele’s work, showing a young Black man cautiously making his way through a predominantly white town before being violently ambushed by masked hoodlums. The attackers, all white, are rendered more confusing than menacing through inconsistent lighting, awkward editing, and poor framing—an attempt at ambiguity that instead muddies the intended horror.
In its most disturbing early sequence, the Black protagonist is laid out and has his organs harvested by a white doctor in a luxurious workshop adorned with images of American slavery. This scene sets up the film’s central threat, but the black-market organ-harvesting subplot disappears for much of the movie, resurfacing only later and without the narrative clarity or tension such material demands.
A Town Awash in Misguided Symbolism
The main story takes place in Karensville, Ohio—a fictitious name nodding not so subtly to viral archetypes of racist behavior, but also recalling recent attempts at race-focused satire like the poorly received 2021 film Karen. Former U.S. soldier Unique, played by Shameik Moore, returns to civilian life and moves in with his cousin Ramsey (RJ Cyler) after the film’s shocking opening. RZA sets the stage for a confrontation between Unique and local white vigilantes, yet the film’s depiction of racial animus relies on heavy-handed references and symbols that lack nuance.
Despite the implication that Unique’s presence in Karensville, a glass of milk “irrevocably altered” by “one spoon of chocolate,” might stir underlying social tensions, the metaphor never gains traction. The town’s sizable Black community further undermines the intended message, as the racial dynamics required for this allegory to resonate simply do not exist within the film’s own logic.
A pivotal confrontation at the local community center lays bare the film’s shallow grasp of racial conflict. A group of white youths hurl slurs and demand that Unique and Ramsey
“stick to their side of town.”
While Ramsey shows cautious familiarity with these threats, Unique responds defiantly—yet the encounter lacks substance. The film foregoes meaningful exploration of either character’s approach, rushing instead into a brief and uninspired action segment.
Ineffective Action Undercuts the Martial Arts Element
Once Unique demonstrates his fighting prowess against the town’s white vigilantes—styled as a proto-Klan group—the action sequences rapidly disappoint. The martial arts choreography is limp and unconvincing, with blocks, kicks, and punches landing more like comedic slapstick than genuine combat. Despite RZA’s background and enthusiasm for wuxia traditions, the film fails to generate either the physicality or the energy expected of the genre.
The striking, saturated visuals seem to promise an exaggerated reality or heightened stakes, but the execution falls flat. Unique spends much of the narrative isolated in the vast garage belonging to his white love interest (portrayed by Paris Jackson), a character whose presence has little bearing on either the story or its broader commentary. Meanwhile, the vigilante group, unmasked as participants in the organ-harvesting ring, mounts listless attacks on other Black characters. What should read as hate-fueled brutality comes across as awkward and inert, with fight scenes so lethargic they seem stripped of all threat.
Periodically, Unique is depicted training with a survivalist manual, constructing makeshift brass knuckles from car parts while apparently prepping body armor. These moments, instead of building anticipation or tension, merely distance him from the central conflict and end up as unfulfilled narrative promises. When action does resume, it is with Unique donning a black cloak and launching into a bland, anti-climactic spree.
Even the film’s climax fails to deliver on the cathartic or vengeful resolution typically sought in social horror or martial arts films, settling instead for drabness and missed potential.
Social Commentary That Lacks Depth or Impact
Moore’s portrayal of Unique, a Black ex-soldier cast adrift after his discharge, is hampered by a script that offers only surface-level insights. Rather than using his experience to probe deeper national contradictions—for instance, the parallels between violence at home and abroad—the film presents only “bullet-point facts,” leaving the notion of a forgotten veteran largely unexplored.
Attempting to confront white supremacy directly, the film’s vigilantes spout racist vitriol with an appropriate venom during encounters. Yet, any sense of narrative or ethical payback is diluted by inert direction, lackluster choreography, and an absence of real tension. The texture of the film borrows from the aesthetics of wuxia cinema but never meaningfully integrates these with the supposed social critiques inspired by Jordan Peele’s work.
Hints of deeper, systemic violence—the commodification or disposability of Black bodies within white supremacist frameworks—surface only as distant echoes. The once-prominent organ-harvesting plot is relegated to the background, robbing it of urgency or meaning. The film ultimately comes off as an uneasy, incoherent hybrid, unable to commit to either the visceral spectacle of martial arts or to a complex meditation on race.
The closing act of One Spoon of Chocolate eschews bold confrontations for a stilted finale, relying on a heavy-handed sermon about its own insubstantial ideas. The result borders on unintentional self-parody, undermining any sincerity the project might have possessed.
One Spoon of Chocolate’s world premiere at the 2025 Tribeca Film Festival underscored the critical challenges facing filmmakers blending genre action with social commentary under the influence of contemporary giants like Jordan Peele. While seeking to engage with pressing issues and cinematic traditions, the film struggles to find its voice, offering neither the thrills nor the insight that such themes demand.
