TLDR: Aaliyah starred in the vampire film Queen of the Damned, showing how Black women shaped alt music but were too often overlooked.
Black women’s influence on metal and connected sub-genres is still often overlooked. As part of my research into Black women in pop culture, I’ve looked at the relationship between race, gender, onscreen portrayals of immortality and nu-metal.
Nu-metal, popularized in the early 2000s, is known for combining the mood of metal with riffs and hues of rap and hip-hop. The genre drew on the creativity of Black artists, singers and musicians across different genres and generations.
My research on this has involved reflecting on the nu-metal-themed film Queen of the Damned (2002), based on Anne Rice’s enduring Vampire Chronicles books. It starred the singer Aaliyah as the powerful vampire Akasha. It was to be her final acting role before her death aged just 22. Shortly before, she had also signed to appear in the sequel to The Matrix, another nu-metal franchise.
Aaliyah doesn’t sing in Queen of the Damned, but her hip-hop stardom is still central to the film, as is suggested by the emphasis on her image in its marketing. Aaliyah being foregrounded in a nu-metal film, paired with the limited dialogue and plot development of her character, reflects how Black women in alt and rock music and accompanying media are sometimes treated as simply there to be seen, not heard.
With a 17% “tomatometer” score on Rotten Tomatoes and a 2.8 star ranking on Letterboxed, Queen of the Damned is generally seen as a flop. But despite this, the film remains influential, particularly due to Aaliyah’s poised presence as a hip-hop star in a fictional and vampiric nu-metal world.
The character of Akasha can be criticized for representing stereotypical ideas of Black women as being dangerously seductive. Still, Aaliyah’s portrayal made an impression.
In recent years the film has received renewed attention, sparked by the resurgence of nu-metal and the creation of the AMC TV show Interview with the Vampire (2022-present). Its much anticipated third season is due to include Akasha. This has led to some fans calling for her to be played by hip-hop artist Megan Thee Stallion. The rapper made a Paris Fashion Week appearance in 2025 in an outfit that harked back to Aaliyah’s performance as Akasha.
This demonstrates that part of Aaliyah’s ongoing impact is the way she established the character of Akasha as canonically connected to hip-hop.
More than ‘seen, not heard’
Understandably eclipsed by her wider work, Queen of the Damned is not focused on in many ways Aaliyah is memorialized. But, for me, her involvement in the film symbolizes how Black women’s creativity and coolness is leveraged by music genres and their media marketing.
Aaliyah in 2000. (Wiki Commons, CC BY-SA)
When remembering Aaliyah’s cultural influence, her multifaceted role in the new millennium and nu-metal landscape must be meaningfully acknowledged. More than that, how all Black women in music are publicly memorialised must involve more care and recognition of their important work across, between and beyond genres.
When news spread of the death of Roberta Flack in February, her fans took to social media to mourn her loss. Legend, musician, singer, teacher – those were just some of the many words used in online posts rightly celebrating her life.
But as layla-roxanne hill and I discuss in our new book, Look, Don’t Touch: Reflections on the Freedom to Feel, memorialising people as “icons” sometimes reduces or reframes who they were to little more than symbols and soundbites. There should be space to name Black women’s impact on music and society, but in ways that affirm the multitudes of their lives.
This is touched on in the documentary TLC Forever (2023), as is society’s disregard for the grief experienced by Black women such as TLC members Rozonda Thomas and Tionne Watkins. Following the death of their friend and band member Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes in a bus crash aged 30, they faced pressures to push forward with releasing music while grieving.
Another documentary, 20 Feet from Stardom (2013), also illuminated the inequalities faced by Black women singers. Their signature sounds propel the success of many genres, but they seldom benefit from this in substantial and sustained ways.
The way the tragic death of Aaliyah was treated is a case in point. The R&B and hip-hop singer died in a plane crash in August 2001. Media headlines mounted, including coverage that referred to “her movie debut last year”, but which did not discuss that role or her broader acting work.
It may be impossible for any memorial message to fully express and appreciate someone’s essence. However, the ways that Black women are remembered (and forgotten) in society are shaped by the specifics of misogynoir – the interconnected effects of racism, sexism and misogyny.
Black women are so much more than the binary narratives projected onto them – strong versus soft, young versus old, singer versus actor, survivor versus victim and living versus dead. As the title of one of Aaliyah’s own songs conveys, she was More Than a Woman.
Written by Francesca Sobande, Reader in Digital Media Studies, Cardiff University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
