Chuck “Jigsaw” Creekmur explores the many “what ifs” of two of Hollywood’s finest creative exports and what the vast possibilities reveal about resilience, redemption, and the realities Black folk face in the industry.
There’s a universe—not so far from our own—where Michael B. Jordan is simply remembered as Wallace. The wide-eyed kid from The Wire, who looked after younger, homeless kids in Baltimore. In that timeline, he never becomes Adonis Creed. Never channels righteous, revolutionary rage as Killmonger. Never evolves into a Hollywood director. He’s just another hood celebrity whose star dimmed before it had the chance to shine.
But in our reality, MBJ has ascended into Hollywood’s elite, crafting a career that celebrates Black strength, complexity, and resilience. It has not been without bumps, but he has bounced back from every misstep. His new film Sinners is set in the Jim Crow South. The Ryan Coogler-helmed movie fuses horror with history, creating a layered metaphor. As I see it, it is about the very real monsters that have hunted Black people in America since the first Africans arrived on this soil. The movie’s premise may hinge on fictional vampires, but the terror feels all too familiar.
It’s this concept of other realities is rooted in our infinite selves that exist based on an infinite number of choices, people around us and circumstances in and out of our control. While Marvel popularized the “Multiverse” as a cinematic spectacle, the idea has far deeper, older roots. In African cosmology, parallel realms and ancestral planes have long shaped spiritual consciousness. The Western world credits quantum theorist Hugh Everett III for the Many-Worlds Interpretation, but the African worldview has always known that there are other realities vibrating nearby.
Coogler and Jordan’s Sinners, intentionally or not, leans into that spiritual science. It’s a tale of two brothers—twins (both played by MBJ) navigating trauma, war, and success. It is set against the backdrop of a racially hostile South, KKK and all. It is horror, yes, but also a vision of self-determination. A juke joint becomes a sanctuary. There are moments of Black joy, Black love, Black community, momentarily free of white interference. Does that sound familiar? Whether you study the history of Black Wall Street or the possible future seen in Wakanda, these sentiments are real. This movie could be Jordan’s crowning achievement. Watching it, I couldn’t help but wonder: where would Jonathan Majors fit into this picture, if things had gone differently?
Remember, he and MBJ presented themselves as close, perhaps even best friends.
Somewhere in another timeline, Majors is still Kang the Conqueror. He is still Marvel’s anchor, a Black man as the cornerstone of a multibillion-dollar franchise. In that multiverse, he’s showered with accolades, adored by critics, and likely still with the woman he was eventually accused of abusing. But inside? Perhaps that version of Jonathan Majors is hollow, unhealed, untouched by the deep work necessary to be a whole, complete man.
In this reality, Majors has fallen hard. He’s been convicted of misdemeanor assault, vilified, cut loose by major movie studios. And yet, in the wreckage, something remarkable has taken shape. He has entered therapy. He has found new spiritual footing. He has re-emerged with Magazine Dreams, a punishing, brilliant performance that was nearly lost to the court of public opinion. Some outlets even tried to sabotage it. And yet, the film is a master class in acting. The controversy nearly drowned it, and yet it still floats, buoyed by the art and those who believe in redemption.
I recently interviewed Majors. Before his fall, it’s doubtful that conversation would have ever happened. He was orbiting a different sun. Now, the distance between us has minimized, if only briefly.
Michael B. Jordan, by contrast, has been just within reach. I interviewed him briefly when he came back to his native Newark, NJ to host community screenings of the Creed series. This is a rare gesture of give-back from someone who could have vanished into Hollywood’s ecosystem. On another occasion, he did something I’ll never forget. During the promo of Black Panther, Black media was essentially blacked our from any interviews. So, lets just say I decided to be more me to salvage the experience. I saw MBJ and he was flanked by white handlers that rushed him into an elevator, as I asked for a picture. They said he did not have time and they all went on the elevator. However, before the door could close he said, “I can’t do that to my people. He came out and took the picture. It was a glimpse into the man. He could have created a foe in me, unable to write such a glowing co-sign of his character.
Both Jordan and Majors reflect something deeply profound about the state of Black masculinity in a world constantly bent on distorting it. One ascends, nearly spotless. The other stumbles, seemingly permanently stained. But both are artists. Both are students of purpose. Both men remind us that resilience isn’t linear. Redemption, when truly earned, is a radical form of protest for Black men.
It is never just about talent.
In Hollywood, skin color, hair texture, political views, and even clandestine whispers can derail a promising career. Black actors must navigate a minefield even while portraying gods, superheroes, supervillains, boxers, revolutionaries and even nerds. We’ve watched clear-cut abusers like Mel Gibson flourish after a scandal. The hypocrisy is glaring and, quite frankly, disgusting.
So yes, I believe in the Multiverse. I believe in the infinite possibilities that emerge from every decision, every sacrifice. I believe every decision creates a ripple. I believe every fall cracks something open. And I believe some of our greatest growth happens at rock bottom, not the spotlight. I believe in the unseen forces that connect one life to another, one path to another. I mean, Majors is now a married man who defines success as waking up next to his queen.
Jonathan Majors and Michael B. Jordan exist at the intersection of fate and free will, ambition and even ancestry. They are mirrors, warnings, and aspirations all at once. We do not need to choose one over the other. They’re not opposites. They’re actually parallel forces. We don’t have to choose between them. We can hold both truths, both timelines, at once.
Ultimately, what matters is what we choose to do in our own universe. What we create, who we uplift, how we rebuild after the fall.
We are in a political climate full of book bans, voter suppression, authoritarianism, modern-day McCarthyism and more…like a return to Jim Crow. We don’t have the luxury of playing it safeIn this universe, Michael B. Jordan is a Hollywood heavyweight and Jonathan Majors is fighting for redemption. But what if things had gone differently?.
So what timeline are you choosing?
Oh yeah. Here’s that picture: January 30, 2018 – Beverly Hills.
