On April 8, 2018, Rapman released the first of his three-part series, Shiro’s Story, on Link Up TV. Each drop combined his filmmaking with his rap-storytelling to craft a shiesty tale of life on the roads.
The UK film and TV industry, by that point, had only boasted a few Black British-led productions: if not calling on cult classics like Kidulthood, Bullet Boy or Desmond’s, then Top Boy was as fresh as it got. Discussions led to a recognition that only a certain brand of Black British stories were being told—hood tales, surrounding gangs, drugs and violence. There was also an understanding that many of these Black-led productions didn’t receive the greatest of budgets, meaning less resources and a scarce opportunity for commissioning.
Shiro’s Story was equal parts controversial and entertaining, amassing millions of views in between each release. It also created a pathway for many careers, with an inspiring message at the crux of it. Despite a career in rap and filmmaking stemming over a decade, including Rapman’s original Blue Story trilogy some years prior on SBTV, it was here he embarked on a journey to fulfilling his ambitions as a storyteller, filmmaker and director. The success of Shiro’s Story led to Rapman being scouted by Jay-Z’s Roc Nation, and led to Blue Story being adapted by Paramount Pictures for the big screen in 2019.
Now, five years later, I speak to Rapman as he awaits the release of his first television show, Supacell, as the first Black filmmaker to write and produce an original series for Netflix. “I’m excited, I’m anxious, counting down the days,” he tells me, wearing a proud smile. A Black British sci-fi set in South London, where Rapman and most of the cast are from, Supacell is a story about five ordinary, young people who unexpectedly develop superpowers—Marvel-worthy powers, at that. The one commonality between them is their Blackness, and it is down to Michael Lasaki (Tosin Cole) to unite them in a bid to save the woman he loves.
In the early stages of Supacell’s creation, Rapman exchanged ideas and prompts with his son over lockdown, exploring the nature of the characters and the different metaphorical worlds that they traverse. The show itself is fantastic, boasting a cast that truly captures the spirit of South London and its people. There is also an ease in Rapman’s direction and recognition of his characters, their storylines, and the different worlds he emphasises throughout the show. But most importantly, it relates back to a disease we tend to overlook in society: sickle cell, a blood disorder that largely affects Black people.
Here, Rapman opens up about the conception of Supacell’s world, its star-studded cast, and the wider sense of culture it encompasses.
“This was the hardest I’ve ever worked on a project—by a million miles—so I know it’s blessed. Because when you put your heart into something, the blessings always come back.”
COMPLEX: When did the concept of Supacell come to you? It’s a phenomenal show, teeming with our culture and a freshness that we haven’t really seen on-screen before.
Rapman: Thank you, bro. I don’t know when it first came to my head, but the first time I ever spoke it out loud was when I was doing some promo for Blue Story. I was on the back of the bus with a few members of the cast; I never spoke it out loud, but I got asked by one of them: “What are you going to do next?” I said I wasn’t sure, but I had this sci-fi idea bubbling. Even after that day, I remember thinking, “Rah! This has been sitting here this whole time, but I’ve never spoken about it to anyone.” I never wrote anything down—it was just in my head. I wondered: what would a sci-fi show with the mandem be like? You know, man like us with powers, normal people. Not people who are super righteous. We’re not evil, and we’re not angels, so what does that look like in a mandem sci-fi show? The first time I thought about it was 2019, and I started writing it in 2020.
The transition from Blue Story times to now has included a lot of work, right? Tell me about that journey.
See, where I’ve been gone for four years, it’s not like I’ve been sitting around. Every single day I have been working on the show. It’s been four years of work. Not, I did something in June, and did something in January. No: every day I have been writing to a deadline. I wrote every episode, and you get notes on every episode. It’s like writing six movies, and each one is a process where I write it—the producer comes back with notes, Netflix comes back with notes, and then you have to back and improve on it. I never knew it would take so many years to do it! So, all I ask is that people get to the end and finish it. So much work, not only from myself, has gone into it.
How did it feel producing such a show with Netflix?
Remember, it’s deep: Blue Story was my debut project, Shiro’s Story was obviously a YouTube thing and, usually, you’re not meant to go from indie filmmaking—like Blue Story—to a big Netflix production. But luckily, they believed in my idea and believed in me. They did point out to me, though, that if I was going to write every episode, which is something that people don’t usually do, that it was gonna take a lot of work. They were like, “You’re going to have to take six loads of notes for each episode.” It was the hardest I’ve ever worked on a project—by a million miles—so I know it’s blessed. Because when you put your heart into something, the blessings always come back. I learnt loads! I felt like I did my film school over the last four years, and graduation day is the day Supacell comes out.
It’s funny that you say film school, because the other day I saw a tweet which took a still from the film Challengers—which, by the way, is a brilliant film, with captivating shots and angles for the camera to work. But in reference to the tweet, a film school graduate was critiquing everyone’s praise of the shot, downplaying it as something so basic in his studies. Not everyone has the privilege of being able to go to a film school, so the way you came up has been super-inspiring.
Ah, man! I appreciate that. If what I do inspires others to do it—that’s the aim. Growing up, I never thought that someone from where I was from… Let me be honest with you: making film and TV, I thought, was for white people who went to those superschools. I didn’t even think it was something within our realms, considering the most we could get was an acting job—if we’re cold enough. Now I know you can do it from trial and error, persistence, and everyone aspiring for such should just go for it.
“Making film and TV, I thought, was for white people who went to those superschools. I didn’t even think it was something within our realms… Now I know you can do it from trial and error, persistence, and everyone aspiring for such should just go for it.”
Your worldbuilding is one thing that really fascinates me, again leaning into characters and very real themes unexplored cinematically before. How did you go about solidifying and expanding the Supacell world, in terms of the power dynamics, factions, and stakes at hand?
It took a lot of step-by-stepping. I started writing it in the middle of lockdown, where you couldn’t really go out. So I started going on walks with my, at the time, 9-year-old son, and we’d talk. Like, first off: what type of powers do you think would be sick? He’d say some powers, I’d say some powers, then I’d write them down; generating names for characters, everyday names that people can remember, nothing crazy. It could be months just building on the villains, months on the protagonists, months on the actual storylines and months on the world I’m trying to create.
So if it’s South London, we’d question what type of South London are we showing? If you notice the characters, they each come from different worlds. For instance, Tazer’s world is what we’d call the street world; then you’ve got Rodney’s world, the cockney world; then there’s got Andre, who’s a bit in both, but he just wants to work—he just wants a job! I wanted every part of South London in this as South London isn’t just one thing. To answer your question, it was about taking time on every single part of the process. It’s fulfilling to a point you get a bit of everything. There’s such an ensemble feel to the story, although some may feel the main characters are Michael and Dionne’s stories. But every character feels solid, every story line is injected with life.
The one thing that really caught me was the divide in lifestyles. You can see a split moment between Tazer and Michael, of thought, anger, and frustration, where someone can do something so crazy it changes the entirety of their life. It’s symbolic of happenings in our communities here in South London. But it’s a split second of thought.
People will look at Tazer’s character, for example, and think this is some any street kid. But if you just talk normal to this bredda, he’s very reasonable; however, the minute you touch one of his, it can go a different way. That’s with a lot of these kids: just be normal with these youths. The cast is star-studded and represents a wider breadth of our culture; there’s a few features I don’t want to spoil, but the likes of Travis Jay, Michael Salami… Travis, I watch the Undefeated Podcast that he’s on, which is about boxing. Travis is my guy, man.
He’s amazing. I also saw him perform at the Backyard Comedy Club hosted by Dave Chappelle a while back. To see the inclusion of these characters as well seems to be capitalising on that wider spread of culture, in which we are all interconnected.
To be honest, when I first put together the cast, I concentrated on the main six: Michael (Tosin Cole), Dionne (Adelayo Adedayo), Sabrina (Nadine Mills), Tazer (Josh Tedeku), Andre (Eric Kofi-Abrefa) and Rodney (Calvin Demba), solid characters that could carry a whole show on their back, all played by experienced actors. When we did that, then it was about supporting characters and I wanted to bring in people with personality. The shows that you like the most, deep down, it’s not because of the storylines—the storylines play a massive part, but the supporting characters stand out. When you think of Goodfellas, you think of Joe Pesci kicking the shit out of everyone. You want energy! So I’m not gonna lie: I didn’t reach out to Travis or Salami—we auditioned the best actors the UK has to offer. Travis came in and he utilised his comedic timing to make his character stand out. Travis and Eric, who plays Andre, their chemistry is something else.
They’re hilarious together [laughs].
[Laughs] Their one-two act is fire. But Salami, when I tell you we auditioned everyone for his character—it was long! I couldn’t find anybody who could do it. We needed someone who was a brother to Michael, played by Tosin, someone who’s not gonna try and outshine the lead character, someone who will support but has his own personality. We got Salami through the door, and he was a breath of fresh air. I’m someone who is very hands-on with the casting, and my casting director, Henritta [Lee], she knows that; she’s the one that cast Blue Story as well. She knew what I wanted, and I had to make the casting calls myself. Like, “Yo, Travis! You got the role.” It made us emotional. Salami, too: speaking to him, he was about to quit acting. I’ve seen them do interviews on it, and they’ve said working on Supacell has changed their life. I love that I can be a part of that. And they earned it! I’m happy for them.
There are many take-aways from this show, which is what I love the most about it. What would you like people to feel and gain from watching Supacell?
I really want sickle cell awareness to be raised. I’m not saying this politically or anything, but when I started writing this, hardly any of the people in Supacell knew what it was. Bare people didn’t know what sickle cell was—some of the people at Netflix, the cast—and I was like: “This is mad!” There’s a massive sickle cell centre in the show, where it’s really nice and facilitated. I would love to see someone make that in real life. I did research on it after doing the show, and I believe there’s one in Texas or something. Why is there only one, that nobody’s heard of? So I would love for that to happen.
Another big thing is, when I think of Black British TV shows, I think of all of these shows that are small, domestic, in the house—which are fun to watch, and I really like them, but we haven’t had anything big, nothing heightened. I want people to watch this show and be like, “You know what? Black shows aren’t a gamble.” I want this to be big, big enough that Amazon makes one, that Apple makes one, and it provides more actors great opportunities that pay them well enough so they don’t have to fly to the States; they can show the true extent of Black British acting talent at home.
Even though there’s that stereotype—“It’s another Rapman thing, so it’s gonna be hood”—nobody’s watched it yet. If you watch episode 1-6, you’re not thinking of the hood; you’re just thinking, “That was a journey!” I want more shows like that. Supacell shouldn’t be the first of its kind, and if it is, it needs to open the door for many more. It can’t just be one big show in, one big show out, now that Top Boy has finished. No. I’m hoping it opens up the doors for more high-end Black British TV shows.
Supacell is streaming now on Netflix.