Short film production has been on the rise with producers taking advantage of the availability…
Movie Review
This section humanises Wizkid by refusing spectacle. Even at this height of his success, the documentary insists, greatness is still labour. Fame does not erase anxiety; it simply magnifies what is at risk. And when he learns that his ailing (now deceased) mother’s health has worsened, almost colliding with his struggles to get his set ready, we see the pain behind the fame.
Aside from its focus on the persistent pull of depression and suicidal thoughts, the film also shows how younger people battling depression and other mental health challenges seek support through social media like WhatsApp, Telegram, or Facebook to help themselves heal. While occasionally helpful, these groups often devolve into corrosive and illogical spots for peer pressure, where suicidal tendencies are encouraged and reinforced.
A strong thread running through the film is the idea of desperation, not just the kidnappers’, not just the families’, but a national kind of desperation that corrodes values and bends every character toward self-preservation.
Despite all these, My Father’s Shadow is not a dirge. Its fragmented form allows for moments of tenderness and beauty, even humour. These flashes underscore the resilience of ordinary Nigerians, who, despite betrayals by their leaders, continue to love, to sing, to imagine futures for their children.
My Father’s Shadow is not a film that tells you what to think about 1993 or about Nigeria’s long arc of disappointments. It’s a film that teaches you how to feel history: to smell it, taste it, hold it against your ribs. It’s a portrait of a father whose love is messy and incomplete, and a nation whose promises frequently arrive late or not at all.
For a movie that runs for two hours, its pacing is incredibly rushed, with timelines not clearly delineated. Jaiye proposes to Adaora within two months of dating her, and they get married with very little on-screen chemistry allowed to truly develop. What is even more implausible is how such a successful business woman is forced into such a naïve and juvenile arrangement, where she cannot spot the glaring ulterior motive, external pressures be damned.
In Freedom Way, writer-producer Blessing Uzzi and first-time director Afolabi Olalekan collaborate on what might…
Kemi Adetiba’s ‘To Kill a Monkey” has every ingredient that makes for an engaging crime thriller; tension, intrigue, impressive visuals, layered characters, high stakes, tight pacing, heightened soundtracks and narrative density.
Francois wants the head for its priceless historical value and for the feeling of power it accords. This leads to the relentless cycle of death and violence that ensues, signifying how greed and power always spill over to cause havoc. This is further amplified by the existence of corruption and lawlessness in places that should be pillars of justice.
They are ‘traps’ which the viewers should not be able to easily detect, and they must truly inspire misdirection and doubt. Without this apparent sense of jeopardy, a murder mystery loses its capacity to elicit and maintain tension.
In Landline, Shalewa (played by Zainab Balogun) dies 11 times. Here’s why. A dual-protagonist story…