A new documentary provides an intimate and modern portrait of Black brotherhood and community through unprecedented access to one of New Orleans’ most revered cultural institutions. The film, titled “A King Like Me,” follows the members of the Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club, the city’s first and most historic Black Mardi Gras krewe, as they confront a landscape of profound adversity. With a runtime of about 90 minutes, the documentary centers its narrative on the club’s determined effort to bring its iconic parade back to the streets for Mardi Gras Day 2022. While the story is deeply rooted in the cultural soil of New Orleans, its exploration of how a community preserves tradition, identity, and joy against overwhelming odds tells a universal story of human endurance. The film uses the specific goal of a single parade as a vehicle to explore much larger themes, translating a hyper-local story into a relatable human drama for a global audience.
A Community Tested by Compounding Crises
The documentary meticulously details the series of crises that threatened not only the 2022 Zulu parade but the very fabric of the club itself. The narrative is set against the backdrop of a global pandemic that disproportionately affected the Black community in New Orleans, highlighting systemic inequities in the healthcare system. The Zulu Club, a brotherhood of over 800 men, suffered an immense toll, with sixteen members dying after more than seventy contracted the COVID-19 virus. This public health crisis was compounded by the devastation of Hurricane Ida and the persistent tragedy of gun violence, which also claimed the lives of club members. The film connects these contemporary challenges to the club’s past trials, including the flooding of their clubhouse during Hurricane Katrina, framing the fight to parade in 2022 as the latest chapter in a century-long saga of perseverance. Through the powerful testimony of members like Terrence Rice, the film moves beyond cultural celebration to pose sharp questions about the American Dream. His emotional commentary on the struggle of doing everything right only to be “stepped on every day of your life” elevates the film’s central question from whether the parade will happen to why this community must constantly fight so hard simply to exist and experience joy. The documentary, which includes content warnings for racism, classism, and death, ultimately portrays a community that, even in its darkest moments, holds fast to the ethos to “let the good times roll”.
The Origins of a Social Aid & Pleasure Club
To understand the club’s resilience, the film delves into its origins, tracing its history to 1909. It began as a marching club of laborers known as “The Tramps,” who paraded with freewheeling irreverence. The first king, William Story, famously wore a crown fashioned from a lard can and carried a banana stalk as his scepter. A pivotal moment occurred when members saw a vaudeville skit titled “There Never Was and Never Will Be a King Like Me”. Inspired by the performance’s African theme, the group adopted the name “Zulu”. In 1916, the organization formally incorporated as the Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club. This name was a mission statement. The club was modeled on the African-American benevolent associations essential for survival in the 19th and early 20th centuries, providing members with critical services like funeral costs and financial assistance when such support was denied by mainstream institutions. Early parades were sponsored by Black-owned businesses, most notably the Gertrude Geddes Willis Funeral Homes. This foundational purpose—as a mutual aid society first and a parade krewe second—is presented as the key to the club’s longevity and its deep-rooted authority within the New Orleans community.
A Legacy Forged in Tradition and Controversy
The documentary carefully unpacks the club’s most iconic and complex traditions, revealing them as artifacts of economic necessity and racial politics. The film addresses the controversial use of blackface makeup, explaining its origin in vaudeville shows, where it was common for both Black and white performers. It was also a practical solution for early members who could not afford the elaborate masks worn by other krewes. The documentary presents the modern interpretation of the practice as an act of empowerment—a way to reclaim and mock the racism it once symbolized. Similarly, the tradition of throwing decorated coconuts began because the krewe could not afford the expensive glass beads of wealthier, white krewes. Members, many of whom worked at French Quarter markets, could acquire coconuts—and, initially, even cheaper walnuts—at a low cost. These traditions, born from constraint, became indelible symbols of the club’s identity. The film also details the evolution of the parade’s cast of characters—including the King, the Witch Doctor, and Mr. Big Stuff—and its gender roles. From 1923 to 1933, male members masked as the Zulu queen, but in 1948, Zulu became the first krewe to feature a female queen riding on her own float in its parade.
From Pariah to Pillar of the Community
The film chronicles the club’s dramatic journey through the 20th century. A high point of recognition came when jazz legend Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong, who considered it one of his greatest honors, reigned as King Zulu in 1949. However, during the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, the club faced a crisis. Its traditions, particularly blackface, were criticized by many in the Black community as demeaning. Facing calls for boycotts, membership dwindled to as few as sixteen members. A major turning point came in 1969 when the city granted Zulu permission to parade on Canal Street, the grand thoroughfare historically reserved for white krewes—a significant civil rights victory. This evolution is powerfully symbolized by the story of Ernest “Dutch” Morial. As an NAACP leader, Morial had supported the boycotts; years later, as New Orleans’ first Black mayor, he became a “proud and active member” of the club. In the decades that followed, Zulu revitalized its “social aid” mission, organizing fundraisers for sickle-cell anemia research, feeding the needy, and establishing youth outreach programs and a gospel choir, solidifying its status as a pillar of the community.
The Vision Behind the Camera
“A King Like Me” is the feature directorial debut of Matthew O. Henderson, a native New Yorker with over fifteen years of experience as a producer and camera operator. His stated filmmaking philosophy is to “tell the story you find, not the one you expect to find,” an approach that lends the film an observational, vérité style. This intimate perspective is balanced by the involvement of a team of producers that includes Fisher Stevens, an Academy Award-winning documentarian known for his work on political and environmental activism. The project is backed by a consortium of production companies, including HartBeat Productions, Impact Partners, and the New Orleans-based Gusto Moving Pictures, which provided local production services. After its world premiere at the SXSW Film Festival, the documentary was celebrated as an official selection at other prominent festivals, including the New Orleans Film Festival, signaling its significance in the documentary landscape.
The film ultimately serves as a vital cultural document, an act of historical preservation that codifies the complex traditions and oral histories of the Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club for a new generation. By weaving together the club’s deep past with its urgent present, “A King Like Me” tells a story that is at once unique to New Orleans and universal in its powerful themes of community, history, and the unwavering perseverance of the human spirit.
The documentary premieres on Netflix on June 19.
