Black Adam began with promise. The first half of the film carried weight—an antihero awakening after centuries, clashing with the Justice Society, and a city torn between hope and destruction. But somewhere past the midpoint, the story lost its footing. Plot threads tangled, character arcs diffused, and one of the most glaring examples of lost logic was the treatment of the mystical crown of Sabbac.
The Crown Logic That Didn’t Add Up
The crown is introduced with an ominous scripture: “Death is the only way to life.” A neat bit of foreshadowing—except the way the film handled it felt like narrative gymnastics. Ishmael, the villain, kidnaps young Amon and taunts Black Adam with the situation, believing Adam will strike him down. Ishmael’s plan? To be killed by Adam while wearing the crown, fulfilling the prophecy and returning as Sabbac.
But here’s the problem: how would Ishmael know Adam would play along? Why wouldn’t he stage his own death instead of relying on his enemy to do it? It’s a ludicrously fragile plan, hinging on unpredictable choices. And when it does play out, the logic falters even more—Adam kills Ishmael, who resurrects from some distant water pit, while the crown back on the Justice Society’s ship conveniently disintegrates. The geography and mechanics of it all leave the audience scratching their heads.
Dodging the Cliché, But Losing Clarity
It’s clear what the writers were trying to do. They didn’t want the tired trope of “villain puts on the MacGuffin and turns into the big bad.” That’s been done in superhero films for decades. But in trying to dodge the cliché, they tied themselves in knots. Instead of clarity and inevitability, the crown subplot became contrived and confusing.
A Cleaner Alternative: The Crown as a Trap
What if the crown wasn’t an instant power-up but a deadly trial? A cursed object that kills anyone who dares wear it. That’s why it’s guarded so fiercely—not because it’s a simple key, but because it’s a death sentence. The wearer is reduced to ash. Only then, if the underworld deems the sacrifice worthy, does the person remanifest as Sabbac.
Imagine how much stronger this would play in the film. Ishmael dons the crown, confident in his destiny. He’s incinerated before everyone’s eyes—a shocking, seemingly final defeat. The Justice Society brings the crown back to their ship and puts it into its showcase, believing the threat ended. But then, in their very midst, Ishmael rematerializes as Sabbac beneath the crown’s resting place, catching them off guard. The resurrection feels immediate, tied to the crown, and organically escalates the tension.
Why This Fix Works Better
This alternative keeps the prophecy intact, avoids a hostage contrivance, and doesn’t require Sabbac to emerge from a remote, disconnected location. Instead of the villain’s return feeling like a clumsy afterthought, it becomes the natural consequence of his ambition and the crown’s curse. The Justice Society is implicated too—their decision to “safely” put the crown away is exactly what allows Sabbac to rise.
Conclusion
The crown subplot is a small part of Black Adam, but it’s emblematic of where the film stumbled. The first half set up intriguing conflicts, only for the second half to spiral into contrivances and confused logic. By reframing the crown as a deadly trial rather than a vague prophecy puzzle, the story would have avoided backflips, delivered a cleaner resurrection for Sabbac, and tied the climax more closely to the main characters. Sometimes leaning into a trope with a twist is better than dodging it with convolution.
Thank you,
Ira