You Love Me depicts larger-than-life Black celebrities standing shoulder to shoulder with everyday Black people, shedding light on the centuries-long hypocrisy that America loves Black culture but fails to respect the lives behind it. The film aims to unpack the question, “You love Black Culture, but do you love me?” by speaking from inside the Black community, outwards. The intro sequence and Act 1 speaks on an outsider’s gaze and worship of Black art, athletics, and aesthetics, then moving into Act 2, which recalls a history of hate and violence toward Black people. From there, the third act’s narration turns toward self-love and love of others in the Black community, begging nothing of ill-minded people and plainly declaring that, “Love me or not, we love each other deeply.”

You Love Me is a commentary on America’s history of mistreating Black people as well as a look at the world’s fascination with and appropriation of Black culture. While using colloquial speechfar, the film still felt relatable to a global audience – including highlighting talent that is loved globally. It’s worth nothing that while some of the faces on-screen were well-known, it scripted in depictions of their identity that many don’t know about. Like highlighting Naomi Osaka’s Haitian heritage or showing a stripped-back, introspective side of Lil Baby. Even the voiceover artist, rapper Tobe Nwigwe, was chosen deliberately to connect on a deeper level with an audience in the know.

We open on black.

Out of the darkness appears Bubba Wallace sitting in an old muscle car, revving his engine. He turns to camera as we hear the voice of Tobe Nwigwe.

VO: You love me.

In a hard cut, we land on a pair of young Black kids, staring down the barrel of the camera, just like Bubba.

Tobe continues…

VO: You love me not.

We cut to a Black father with a child perched atop his shoulders. He’s firmly planted, representing everything fatherhood should be. Solid, grounded, unshaken.

VO: You love Black culture.

We jump cut to a close-up on the father’s face, his son – now in his arms – looks to camera.

VO: But do you love me?

We cut from our father to a man with his girlfriend – Lil Baby. We catch them in a moment of intimacy. Far from the spotlight we’re used to seeing Baby under, his girlfriend deliberately braids his hair while he sits in a deep moment of reflection.

VO: You love how I sound: My voice, these beats, this flow.

Lil Baby looks up from a notebook he’s scratching lyrics down in.

VO: Not me, right?

We cut from Lil Baby to a young woman also performing a small, everyday grooming ritual. She uses gel and toothbrush to twist her baby hairs into an intricate design, just so.

VO: You love how I look: My hair, these lips, this skin.

She shifts her gaze from the mirror in front of her...to us.

VO: But Me? Nah.

We cut from our young woman to a group of children outside in their yard at a kiddie pool, standing at attention.

VO: We don’t get to exist. We’re forced to survive.

From our kids outside, to another young girl inside. Her father is teaching her to fight. We hear him pushing her to keep her hands up and stand strong.

VO: We still fight.

From our young girl boxing to Naomi Osaka. Naomi enters her living room, approaching a large canvas painting and is instantly captivated by it. It depicts the Haitian Revolution, the first successful slave rebellion. We can see in Naomi’s eyes that this is a painting she's seen many times before hung in an elder's home. But she’s now just coming to terms with its meaning.

VO: We still play while the world burns. On fields that aren’t level.

We hard cut back to black.

And reopen on a group of men laying in a pile on the concrete. Each one wears a white tank top and a black durag. We recognize one of the men as the father from our opening scene.

VO: All men are created equal? That’s my favorite part.

We cut through portrait shots of each of our men on the concrete.

VO: You hate us so deeply but you’re still so impressed.

We cut to Janaya Future Kahn wearing a black tank top and approaching a white sheet, blowing in the wind.

VO: Why can't you see? There’s history in our skin.

We cut from Janaya to a group of Compton Cowboys standing tall on the backs of their horses.

VO: You built this country on our backs.

We begin to cut through tight portraits of our cast – establishing each face as equal.

VO: I’m him. He’s me. She. Us. We...Are all Black.

On “black” Janaya sets the white sheet ablaze – cuing a musical break from a gospel choir in a Southern field.

We reopen with a big breath of air. A gasp.

Just as our burning white sheet, now burnt to a crisp, falls – we see a young boy rise. He backflips off his front porch.

The flip cues another gasp of joy – our children at the kiddie pool now run, splash, and smile at one another. We then see a couple embracing in a field. And Lil Baby looking lovingly at his girlfriend. And Bubba Wallace peeling off.

VO: Love me. Or not. We love each other deeply.

Naomi sits down for a meal with her Haitian relatives. Our Cowboys stand proudly. Our men on the concrete look at the camera.

VO: We gon be us. We gon break bread. We gon defy gravity.

Finally, our father (also the man on the concrete) holds our gaze as we hard cut...

We now see the same man levitating, slowly rising high above the alleyway he was just lying in.

VO: You love my culture...but do you love me?

As he rises out of sight, we cut to a younger boy – also rising.

His head breaks the plane of a body of water and he holds our gaze.

VO: What a world that would be.

CARD: B-LOGO

[ROLL CREDITS]