With unhandy direction and an unwieldy screenplay, Summer Rain crumbles under the weight of its own ambition.
By Vivian Nneka Nwajiaku
There’s not enough young love on Nigerian screens. Certainly not many that are sincere or interesting enough to be memorable. This is what makes Summer Rain worth watching—not its adult couple reconnecting through pretentious montages, but its expression of the exhilaration and anxiety that comes with young love, earnestly portrayed by its younger cast.
Genoveva Umeh (Breath of Life (2023); A Tribe Called Judah (2023)) and Kayode Ojuolape (Ijogbon (2023); Leaked (2022)) take on supporting roles as the younger versions of the film’s lead characters, with heartfelt performances that give the film its allure. But with unhandy direction and an unwieldy screenplay, Summer Rain crumbles under the weight of its own ambition.
Directed by Adenike Adebayo-Esho, whose last film, Chemistry, was released on YouTube in 2024 after the collapse of a previously announced Netflix deal for that film, Summer Rain is one of about five anticipated Nollywood big screen romance releases for the 2025 valentine season.
Adebayo-Esho co-produces it with Bolaji Ogunmola, popular for her YouTube productions from Searching to Something More and TV movies such as Hope Springs Eternal). Ogunmola also takes up the lead role in Summer Rain, alongside Daniel Etim Effiong, the male lead of Chemistry and Something about the Briggs, another romance release bidding for the audience’s attention this season.
In Summer Rain, Ogunmola and Etim Effiong star as Murewa Abe and Adimchi Amadi, former best-friends-turned-lovers who bump into each other after ten years of being apart. We shuffle between the couple’s past, where they fall in love as they come of age, and their present as adults still holding on to the feelings that were left unresolved.
Now all grown up, Adimchi splits his focus between his work and his ailing father (Femi Branch opts for a theatrical rendering), and Murewa splits hers between her work and a daughter as old as their breakup (the talented Darasimi Nadi, criminally underutilised).
Call it destiny or sheer coincidence, they both find themselves contracted to work on the same construction brief. Her first instinct is to avoid him, while his is to seek her out. Of course, they both have different understandings of the circumstances that led to the loss of their friendship, each of them blaming the other.
The idea of Summer Rain is to watch them rekindle old flames—or not, seeing as they have baggage to sort out. There’s no doubt that the film wants us to root for them. But both of their best friends think it’s not worth the risk. Kachi Nnochiri (A Simple Lie; Hotel Labamba) is cast as Murewa’s friend (portrayed in his younger years by Emeka Nwagbaraocha as a troublesome teenager trying both nice and mean tactics to get her attention) who was around to pick up the pieces that trailed Adimchi’s leaving.
Nnochiri approaches the role with smouldering eyes and a disinterested demeanour, almost as if he’s in agreement that the character he plays is a mere plot device that will be forgotten as soon as he’s done playing his part in a potential love triangle.
Then, there’s Adimchi’s best friend, played by Michael O. Ejoor (who also played best friend to Etim Effiong’s character in Chemistry, and best friend to the love interest of Ogunmola’s character in Something More), advising his friend to not lose out on this new contract because of a woman.
Their new employer doesn’t seem to mind, though. Performed by Lateef Adedimeji (Ayinla; Lisabi: The Uprising), with a bashful smile that makes you wonder if he knows something we don’t, the screenplay hands him lines that unintentionally set him up as a matchmaker (even if not as brazen as his matchmaker role in The Order of Things).
In one instance, after he’s observed the undeniable history between his new contractors, his excitement is palpable as he gleefully urges them to get along. His “You both should shake each other because you’re now partners” comes off even more awkwardly than the awkward situation between the former lovers who, despite their best efforts, can’t rise above the limitations of the screenplay.
Ogunmola and Etim Effiong put in their best to capture that wistfulness that a story like Summer Rain demands. Murewa and Adimchi have both carried with them, into adulthood, the memories of the moments that defined their teenage relationship, their eyes bearing the weight of the lingering pains and the longing for past joys.
But the lead actors stumble their way through the initial edginess of reconnection and the subsequent journey of falling in love again, a job made difficult by the uninspired dialogue and inadequate plotting.
Adimchi has never stopped loving Murewa. That much is made clear even if he’s convinced she made all the bad decisions that tore them apart. It’s the same for her, though she’s more avoidant and initially treats him with hostility. So, when he hovers around her, and she unexpectedly relaxes around him, it’s not completely surprising. Still, with feelings as complicated as theirs, both characters deserve some space to confront and process those feelings. But the screenplay of Summer Rain does not give them that.
Instead, scenes where they could be rediscovering each other are either collapsed into showy and unoriginal montages or shared with secondary characters whose contributions have little or no impact on the emotional journey of the leading duo.
To be fair, there are a couple of scenes in which their supposed internal conflicts come to a head, and the hurts of the past eventually crawl into an explosive climax. But, at this point, it’s too little too late, and the only reason to care about Summer Rain’s resolution is that the teenage lovers managed to make a case for caring.
Umeh and Ojuolape are convincing together, although they are aided by the fact that their share of the Summer Rain script is better fleshed out, with the screenplay appearing to be much more interested in the backstory of the lovers than in their present.
If there’s some overacting from Ojuolape, Umeh keeps things grounded. And if you had any doubts that her presence is the difference maker, consider any flashback where she’s missing. It’s most telling in one scene where young Adimchi spars with his drunken father after a painful discovery. None of them is able to contain their delivery; neither is the director, who is also unable to control the direction of the story itself.
By the time Summer Rain approaches its third act, it suddenly starts to throw in all the conflicts in the book, from “you-never-knew-me” and “what-are-we?” dilemmas to paternity twists, financial secrets, death, and, the most disappointing of all, a grossly unwarranted plot device around sexual violence.
The result is an excessively stretched out, distracted, and exhausting final act that quenches the little bit of fire that existed at the start of the film.
In the last meaningful scene in Summer Rain—which should have been the last scene but is followed by three more impossibly indulgent and cringy scenes—Adimchi’s declaration of love begins with the words, “I know people will say this is unnecessary”. Well, his speech is not unnecessary. But most of that final act is.
Rating: 2/5
(Summer Rain is currently showing in Nigerian cinemas.)
Vivian Nneka Nwajiaku is a writer, film critic and lawyer writing from Lagos. She’s just returned from a long hiatus and can’t wait to unpack as many films as humanly possible. Connect with her on Twitter @Nneka_Viv