I finally saw Níyì Akinmọ́láyan’s latest directorial, Líṣàbí: The Uprising, and I have a lot to say about it. Please note that I refuse to talk about the visual effects in any way as I recognise it as an infant entry to the Nollywood market. Let’s give it some time to grow. Now where were we?
First, it will be a crime not to state that Líșàbí is a desperate breath of life into the Nollywood epic industry (see what I did there?). The costumes are amazing, the makeup is great. The cinematography, the location choice... Hmmmmmm (I need to close my eyes and rub my lips to savour them).
The acting is also top notch. I have looked forward to hearing other dialects apart from the cliché ‘Ọ̀yọ́ dialect’ in Yorùbá films and I finally got Ègbá dialect this time. Big ups to the dialect coach, Ibrahim Yẹ̀kíní (Ìtẹ̀lẹ̀). Débọ̀ Macaroni proves his theatre origin with his depiction of Ṣókẹ́nù. Chatta’s shoulders must hurt from carrying that film, although Macaroni gives it fire for fire. Lateef Adédiméjì did what he could but the script hampered his character’s relevance, no matter the amount of praises and songs dedicated to him.
Chatta, as usual, is amazing. The way he portrays the ‘strong messenger’ who is also a subservient a$$ licker is awesome. I still can’t get over that “Olúwa mi, ẹ pàkan si” scene. He is evil, he knows it and he enjoys it. Give me a villain like that all day.
I also love how these guys didn’t make the mistake of understating Òyó’s wealth and influence during that time. The empire reportedly made up to an equivalent 9 million dollars (unadjusted for inflation) annually from tributes in Dahomey alone and that’s not factoring the wealthier trade routes Òyó commanded before its fall. The palace and location Líșàbí used respects this to an extent. Big ups to the team for that.
Again, I love the depiction of Oyó as the big bad wolf that it was. We’ve all managed to think the Empire were good guys when they did unfathomable things. The massacre of the Nupe people by Oba Òrònpòtò is a case in point. Killed them so much a once mighty kingdom became a kingdom of beggars. In her defence, the Nupe did it first. A round of applause for the Director and his team.
Now, the negatives. It is obvious the actors were struggling with the dialect. The dialogues were slow because actors were conscious not to make a mistake. Ironically, this made the dialect slip a lot. Débọ̀ Macaroni, Débímpé, Ikeduba and even Afọ́layan slipped several times.
And the repetition! Ugh. Yes, repetition creates emphasis but too much repetition creates boredom. The dialogue are repeated, as are scenes with the same points. It is almost as if they wanted to give actors more screen time or reach a quota to have two parts. This made characters redundant and the plot became congested.
I have problems with its score as well. What is the place of violins and pianos and auto tuned songs in a Yorùbá epic film? We have beautiful live singers who could create better scores and background songs. We have awesome instruments as well. Imagine bàtá, dùndún, gúdúgúdú and a live chanter in that first scene for instance.
Now, to address the elephant in the room. What in the name of Baahubali-esque filmmaking is that? It tries to copy the Tamil grandiose style but it ends up copying its strongest weakness as well – trading plot development for flashy show business. It’s a classic case of misplaced priority. The story of Débọ̀ and his bride plus Femi Adebayo would have been enough to depict the wickedness of the Aláàfin and Ọ̀yọ́. The plot would have benefitted from depictions of how Líṣàbí got Ẹ̀gbá especially the stubborn immigrants from Owú to work together. A scene in a shrine just doesn’t cut it.
They wasted precious screen time on redundant stories, montages and characters only to start stuffing the important parts in the end. Anyways, we will see how the second part improves in 2025.
P.S: Since the time of Jimoh Àlíù’s Àrélù (1987) which was actually influenced by Bàbá Ògúǹdé’s stage plays, we’ve had this stereotype of strong Yorùbá warriors being successful because of charms. The chess Ìbíkúnlé, Ògúnmólá and Kúrunmí played in Ìjàìyè was a case of strategy, experience and tactics, not charms. It’s an insult to believe these warriors wouldn’t have succeeded without spirits and sorcery and whatnot. We need to grow.
Before I grow old, I would like to see a Yorùbá epic movie where the warriors displayed military ingenuity instead of charms and sorcery. Believe it or not, that would be a realistic portrayal of warfare in Ọ̀yọ́. I want to hear stories of the Bàdà and the Sarumi who commanded the almighty cavalry that once defeated the Ashantis and Dahomey and Baribas and Tapas.
Give me a story of how Ọ̀yọ́ failed to capture the Benin empire for instance because the hills in Ekiti prevented their cavalry from moving forward. According to Yorùbá films, they could have used disappearing charms if they had them, no?
For the brilliant (over repeated) dialogue, the dialects, costumes, make-up, respect to Ọ̀yọ́’s sovereignty, the inclusion of how the Yorùbá were collaborators to slave trade and the cinematography, I’ll give it a 4/10.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and not of the organisation TheRadar.
FULL LIST: Here are all the films that have been shortlisted for AMAA 2024
Meanwhile, TheRadar earlier reported that the Africa Movie Academy Awards (AMAA) had unveiled the highly anticipated nominations for its 2024 edition.
The highlight of it was The Weekend movie leading the pack by bagging 16 nominations. This year’s event would come up on November 2, 2024.
