It’s Champion vs. Champion in a new Netflix series following the feud between a South London brother and sister in the music business. Series creator and acclaimed author Candice Carty-Williams introduces us to British-Jamaican siblings, Bosco and Vita Champion. Rapper Bosco Champion is finally out of the pen, ready for a musical comeback. However, the rap scene waits for no one, and Bosco faces tough competition from antagonistic newcomer Bulla. Then, unbeknownst to his adoring fans, he suffers anxiety attacks and post-traumatic stress from his time in prison.
As the saying goes, “Behind every great man is a great woman.” Vita Champion is that woman. Vita writes all of Bosco’s raps and is the only one who can clear his mind before a performance. The first episode, “Champion vs. Champion,” is about her sacrifices. She sings along backstage to Bosco’s latest song praising Black women because she, in fact, wrote it. Then, when Bosco gets arrested after a noise complaint at his 25th birthday party at the daily home, she gets him out of jail after creating a social media movement in his support. Bosco may be the main event in the Champion family, but this series is not about him. This is Vita’s story.
Champion explores the complications of mixing the music business and family. Through Vita, we enter the world of a Black immigrant daughter, taken for granted and put into a maternal role at a young age.
At the beginning of “Champion,” Vita reaches her breaking point when Bosco refuses to make her his manager despite doing the work without credit for years. Frustrated with her life, Vita decides to step into the spotlight and see where her singing voice can take her. She records backup vocals for Bulla, and the producer wants to sign her and record solo music.
Even with newfound success, this girl still can not catch a break. Her friend, Honey (RAY BLK), is mad at her when the producers favor Vita’s voice over hers in the recording. Her mother, Aria (Nadine Adedji), dismisses her dream as she needs Vita to work at the family restaurant, and Bosco forbids her from going solo because he needs her to stay behind and write his new album. However, Vita isn’t backing down and defies her family for the first time.
What makes Champion such a fascinating series is how invested viewers are in the Champion family relationship dynamic: the “golden child” son, responsible daughter, suave yet manipulative father, and the toxic mother-daughter relationship.
London-based writer Bashirat Oladele’s article, “13 Going on 30: The Parentification of Black Girls,” explains a phenomenon prevalent in Black families, detailed explicitly in the plot of “Champion.” Parentification is when children must grow up and adopt adult roles in the home. In African and Caribbean homes, eldest daughters are often the victims of parentification. Daughters are the ones supporting their siblings, helping their parents, and acting like second mothers to their siblings. Then, in the face of racial injustice, these Black women become the voice of movements and are the first ones to do community outreach.
Vita Champion perfectly embodies the parentification of Black girls in an eerily relatable way for Black girls everywhere. Throughout the season, she struggles to reconcile what she wants with the desires of her family and friends. She frustrated me with her need to self-sabotage her burgeoning career to be there for her brother. Bosco is dealing with troubles with his manipulative father, Beres, incompetent manager, Dawn, ex and mother of his child, Chantelle, and police who wait for him to mess up.
The differences between the treatment of Vita and Bosco highlight yet another family dynamic: the coddling of Black boys. With Vita focusing on her singing career, Bosco has to write original lyrics and deal with his mental health struggles alone. Aria enlists Vita to look after him after his arrest as police eagerly wait for him to get in trouble. Then, he hides behind Vita’s pen game to remain a force in the rap game while also relying on his sister to ease crippling panic attacks. Bosco’s sheltered life is reminiscent of how some parents coddle Black boys out of guilt and fear about police brutality. A 2020 study found that Black children are six times more likely to be shot to death by police. About 93% of those children are Black boys.
“Champion” is not afraid to call out police brutality in South London’s Black population. It’s hard for a Black man to stay out of the system when a target follows him everywhere. Audiences can’t help but feel sorry for Bosco while rolling our eyes as he calls on Vita to rescue him every time he gets in trouble.
“Champion’s” ending is a win for daughters everywhere who once were (and still are) Vitas. In the last episode, Vita takes the stage for her first performance while accepting a Best New Artist award. We finally see her step into the light and solidify her identity as the talented star of the Champion family. She’s a reminder that daughters are people outside of being caregivers and responsible siblings.
“Champion” adds to a growing collection of Black stories on Netflix. The charismatic Deja J. Bowens stars in her TV debut, pulling off a sympathetic performance for many Black women to relate to. Bowens provides great representation as a dark-skin female lead, admired for her talent and beauty (hence her fine love interests Memmet and Laurent). Overall, “Champion” is binge-worthy, captivating, frustrating, and thoroughly entertaining. The highs and lows of this talented family is a must-watch.
