In mainstream cinema, Black women are rarely allowed to just be angry. We are granted the space to grieve, to love, to show vulnerability, and to serve as the joyful, resilient backbones of everyone else’s stories. But raw, unadulterated rage? That is a luxury historically denied to us. When we express anger, it is systematically flattened into a stereotype. We become the “Angry Black Woman,” a caricature designed to dismiss our pain rather th…