Loose Cannon seeks to evoke a deeper understanding of personal losses suffered during wartime.
By Joseph Jonathan
It was Benjamin Franklin who said that “wars are not paid for in wartime, the bill comes later”. A reference to the fact that the consequences of war often linger long after the fighting has ceased. This is the premise of the Olisa Eloka-directed short film, Loose Cannon, which has been selected for the Eastern Nigeria International Film Festival (ENIFF) later this month.
Co-written by Eloka and Kene Ibeneme, Loose Cannon follows the story of a former Biafran soldier, Ijezie (Keezyto) who struggles with survivor’s guilt at the end of the Nigeria Civil War in 1970.
Despite the film’s 20 minute run-time, the plot progresses slowly and there is a level of subtlety that comes with it, delicately woven by Eloka and Ibeneme to convey the complexities of Ijezie’s emotional turmoil. Through a nuanced exploration of his experiences, the film sheds light on the often-overlooked human cost of conflict, revealing the lasting impact of war on individuals.
For many people, the consequences of war are mostly understood from a communal point of view — the destruction of infrastructure, the displacement of people, and the devastating impact on economies. However, Loose Cannon seeks to evoke a deeper understanding of personal losses suffered during wartime. As Ijezie navigates his post-war reality, the film raises important questions about identity, trauma, and redemption.
Further accentuating the plot is the dialogue, which is authentic and aptly captures what was obtainable in ‘70s Eastern Nigeria, transporting viewers to an era with rich cultural nuances and idiomatic expressions. The screenwriters’ meticulous attention to linguistic detail recreates the distinct flavour of the Igbo language. Unlike many Nollywood films, the Igbo dialogue in Loose Cannon is refreshingly genuine and devoid of awkwardness.
Keezyto delivers relatively fewer lines for a major character, but he still gives a measured performance as Ijezie that anchors the story. Battle scars are visible on his body, but it is his silence and body language that gives the audience insight into his emotional trauma, revealing the depth of his inner turmoil and the weight of his unspoken memories.
His quiet introspection, hesitant gestures, and the haunting emptiness in his eyes speak volumes about the horrors he witnessed and the scars that refuse to heal.
In the same vein, Nkeoma Umudu delivers a telling performance as Ijezie’s sister, bringing depth and nuance to her portrayal of a woman worn down by the weight of caring for a loved one. She aptly portrays the frustration of caring for a war veteran who would rather not talk about his problems, conveying the emotional exhaustion and helplessness that comes with supporting someone trapped in their own silence.
Loose Cannon is shot in black and white, and this adds a level of intensity to the story, stripping away distractions and focusing the audience’s attention on the stark realities of the aftermath of war. The monochromatic palette also serves as a visual metaphor for the moral ambiguity and emotional trauma that Ijezie faces, emphasising the shades of gray that define his emotional state.
By removing colour from the frame, the film is able to heighten the emotional impact of each scene, creating frames that draw the audience deeper into Ijezie’s world of pain, regret, and struggle.
Loose Cannon’s impactful exploration of personal loss and trauma serves as a potent reminder of war’s devastating consequences. Eloka’s direction, coupled with nuanced performances, elevates this short film into a powerful testament to the enduring impact of war on individuals and will resonate with audiences.
Rating: 2/5
Joseph Jonathan is a historian who seeks to understand how film shapes our cultural identity as a people. He believes that history is more about the future than the past. When he’s not writing about film, you can catch him listening to music or discussing politics. He tweets @JosieJp3.