(Japa! is) a welcome attempt at genre experiments, it however fails to deliver a salutary answer to the question at the heart of this review.
By Victory Hayzard Solum
How does one make a Nigerian movie about time loops? You take a couple of characters and saddle them with a peculiarly Nigerian need. In Isioma Osaje’s debut feature film, Japa!, it is the economically expedient need to travel far beyond the shores of the country.
Mezu, played by Jide Kene Achufusi (Living in Bondage: Breaking Free, A Tribe Called Judah), a teacher heavily invested in plans to “japa” or emigrate from Nigeria, bonds with a few like-minded individuals he comes in contact with at the preparatory night classes for IELTS exams. With his travel plans approved and his flight in only a few hours, Mezu sells his car to bolster his finances. No sooner has he done this, however, than he is robbed. A last-minute gig as an exam invigilator offers an alternative to pennilessness, but when Mezu spots the proceeds of a charity drive in the care of his friend and colleague, Kamsi, played by the gorgeous Adesuwa Etomi-Wellington (The Wedding Party, Gangs of Lagos), he steals the money for himself and jets off as planned. Except when he falls asleep mid-flight, he awakens to find himself back in bed, stuck in Nigeria, reliving the same day in a time loop.
Of course, there are differences the second time around. He is forearmed with the knowledge of precisely which of his friends orchestrated the theft of his money. And with insights like this, he must convince and reconvince the members of the “japa” network to help him figure out a solution. The next series of montages and repeating days see him attempting a host of escape strategies while going through various emotions, not unlike what one finds in the 1993 Hollywood time loop classic, Groundhog Day. As a matter of fact, Japa! owes a lot of its ideas to Groundhog Day, only here, with Mezu at his wit’s end and despondent, the movie makes its first departure from this formula in the mode of the 2020 Max Barbakow film, Palm Springs: Mezu is not alone in this time loop; Kamsi is stuck in it as well.
How does one make a Nigerian movie about time loops? Prior to Japa!’s release on movie streaming platforms, media runs called it a sci-fi movie. But like the 2021 Akay Mason and Abosi Ogba feature, Day of Destiny, it is more rooted in the indigenous metaphysics of the Nigerian people, which in a reach for authenticity saw the earlier movie coined “Juju-fi”. Kamsi and Metu’s predicament has more to do with the contravention of some secret dictate of Omenala or Odinala, the moral philosophy and guide of the Igbos, than anything overtly scientific. But beyond jarring statements like “restore the Omenala” repeated ad nauseam — as though it were an actual physical object — it is in figuring out which Omenala dictate has been contravened and just how to fix it that Japa! gets really wonky.
Mezu’s theft of his school’s charity funds is an obvious enough wrong. But a revelation clues us in on the fact that Kamsi has been having an affair with Zino, a mobster bully played by Mofe Duncan (Sons of the Caliphate, WAR: Wrath and Revenge). But why is she being punished for a liaison she has practically been coerced into? Is this a Nollywood flirtation with victim blaming? Better yet is the question; why these specific individuals? Excluding the villainous Zino, we know of at least one other thief in this movie, Wasiu as played by the comedian Layi Wasabi (Adire, Anikulapo: Rise of the Spectre). Why are they not being targeted for their moral misdemeanours?
This is one of the pitfalls of making cosmic events the resultant effect of human actions. It is far too much responsibility for any one individual, one which demands justification for their specialness; a demand which Japa! never even attempts to meet. So, how do you make a Nigerian movie about time loops?
The looping state in Groundhog Day is one which just happens to its protagonist, Phil. It starts of its own accord and ends of its own accord. Sure, Phil learns some life lessons along the way, but there is no reason to believe this is what breaks him out of the loop. The cosmic event in Palm Springs is one Nyles just happens to stumble into. Sure, he does break out of it with the help of Sarah, his fellow sufferer, but… this is a but I’ll have to come back to later.
So Mezu and Kamsi decide that the way to undo their curse is to carry out acts of service to those around them. Doing this sees them reverting five minutes later into the day or longer — depending on the extent of their own initiative, as opposed to the proddings of Omenala — in the hopes of seeing their time in the loop reduced to as little as zero. However, there is the added effect that the beneficiaries of these services remember their kind actions with physical evidence; actions which were carried out in prior loops. Since only Mezu and Kamsi are truly aware of the loop, what then are the explanations for these memories in the minds of these other characters? While one of them might remember Kamsi fixing his welding issues with the physical evidence to back it up, on what day did it happen exactly?
This question may lie at the heart of the metaphysics of time loops, in how they work here and in other stories. I have a theory; a time loop must in some part be a mental phenomenon. There is no causality to it, a loop just is. Characters only become aware or conscious of its existence. The degree of awareness must be somewhat consonant with the disquietude in the lives of the characters. There is the possibility of bumping into a character stuck in a loop of their own. In the event, it would have to either be a subjective experience of their own, or an objective fact of the world one has been, thus far, ignorant of. Do Phil, Nyles, and Sarah break out of their different loops? Or do they, by finding new meaning and fulfillment, become less anxious about the trappings of their reality, enough to be subsumed once again into unity and a sense of continuance?
There is some absurdist closure to the nihilistic questions about reality and monogamy in the movies referenced above. Japa! tilts towards similar messaging, but there might be very little distinction between defeatism and the sort of contentment it preaches. For instance, the more impossible breaking out of the loop seems, the less enthused Mezu begins to feel about traveling out of the country, seeking new interests and less selfish opportunities within. Perhaps this would have rang true with a sense of contentment or growing indifference to peculiarities of his existence, except with the loop still very much treated as an evil force of imprisonment, it raises the question whether his newfound acceptance has not been forcefully imposed on him.
There is also the question of just the sort of reality the film seems to be asking its viewers to accept. There is talk of asking how one may help their country, instead of the other way around. But however noble this might seem, there is no wishing away the real world social insecurities and economic uncertainties. For the individual members of the millions displaced by terrorist groups in Northern Nigeria, might emigration not be a more viable option in the face of the government’s failure to act? Even more sinister about this Japa!’s premise is how so in tandem it appears with legislative calls to restrict the migratory attempts of certain professionals without preferring meaningful solutions to the root causes of the “japa” phenomenon. How does one make a Nigerian movie about time loops when its very claustrophobic features are in no way dissimilar to the harsh realities of life in the country, all attempts at humour regardless?
There is the questionable existence of Zino to consider. The time loop in Japa! poses a menacing enough antagonist without necessitating a need for another villain. Is he supposed to be some physical manifestation of the event? If Mezu and Kamsi’s fix with Omenala has brought the loop upon them, have they somehow contributed to Zino’s scourge on their lives? Or is he more of a stand-in for the oppressive structures of the Nigerian government or reality, where fleeing him might not be the answer? Suffice it to say that whatever shadow he casts on the plot, it is sufficiently outweighed by the mere existence of the time loop, and he is barely missed when not being talked about by the characters.
Written by Chinaza Onuzo and Tamara Aihie, and produced by Inkblot Productions, Japa! proves once again that Nollywood comedies can be carried convincingly by drama actors like Blossom Chukwujekwu (The Trade, Day of Destiny) and Etomi-Wellington in light-hearted and warm portrayals, without an over-reliance on slapstick internet skitmakers. A welcome attempt at genre experiments, it however fails to deliver a salutary answer to the question at the heart of this review.
Rating: 2.5/5
(Japa! is currently streaming on Prime Video)
Victory Hayzard Solum is a freelance writer with an irrepressible passion for the cinematic arts. Here he explores the sights, sounds, and magic of the shadow-making medium and their enrichment of the human experience. A longstanding ghostwriter, he may have authored the last bestselling novel you read.