By relying on poorly developed plots and characters, overused themes, and borrowed aesthetics, Tòkunbọ̀ perpetuates Nollywood’s tradition of unimaginative storytelling.
By Seyi Lasisi
For over three decades, Ramsey Nouah has furnished a successful career for himself by breathing life into various characters. From Chico Ejiro’s Silent Night (1996), Tade Ogidan’s Dangerous Twins (2004), Kunle Afolayan’s Figurine (2009), to Izu Ojukwu’s ‘76 (2016), the actor has fittingly delivered multi-layered performances.
In expanding his artistry, in 2019, Nouah transitioned into directing by remaking Living In Bondage: Breaking Free, a Nollywood classic as his directorial debut. In 2020, he continued his directing stint with RattleSnake: The Ahanna Story which can be described as a reimagined version of Rattlesnake, a 1995 Nigerian classic action thriller film directed by Amaka Igwe.
Both films, which are remakes of Nollywood classics, have earned the actor-turned-director accolades, including Director of the Year honours at the Best of Nollywood Awards (2020) and the AMVCAs (2022).
Four years later, Nouah returned with an original script that obsessively adopts Hollywood’s tropes and imagery. Co-written by Todimu Adegoke and Thecla Uzozie, Tòkunbọ̀ pursues a personal and political story. At the forefront of the personal story is Tòkunbọ̀, the titular character (Gideon Okeke), an ex-car smuggler desirous about leaving crime in a bid to fully commit to Lisa (Tosin Adeyemi), his pregnant wife.
Gaza (Chidi Mokeme), the street lord with a notorious reputation for violence, is Tòkunbọ̀’s boss. Iya Mulika (Adunni Ade), a store owner, and Chukwudi (Stanley “Funnybone” Chubunwa), another shop owner, serve as Tòkunbọ̀’s street confidants, the people he turns to when faced with significant financial challenges throughout the story. On the political front, we have Folashade (Funlola Aofiyebi), the newly appointed and highly celebrated first female Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN).
Folashade is “passionate” about weeding out corrupt practices and implementing ones that allow regulation of the Nigerian currency and promise vague economic benefits for the citizens. Unknown to Folashade, her “good intentions” have attracted the attention of an enemy intimately familiar with her movements. Raymond (Majid Michael), the Deputy Governor, is the enemy, who has recruited Aziba (Ivie Okujaye), her assistant.
Raymond, seeking to ensure Folashade’s compliance, enlists Tòkunbọ̀—desperate for money—to transport Nike (Darasimi Nadi), Folashade’s kidnapped only child, to an undisclosed location.
From this point, the questions start to arise: Why does the script obscure Raymond’s identity? Is it to add superficial intrigue or to convey an unnecessary message about betrayal by someone close? Why does Nike need to be transported to a different location? And why is Tòkunbọ̀ chosen to transport the kidnapped Nike when Raymond, who is resourceful enough, could surely find a more secure method for moving the abducted child?
Beyond these questions, the film is cluttered with additional plot details, conversations, and scenes that contribute little to the story’s overall impact. Tòkunbọ̀’s brief foray into drug distribution, the film’s misguided and awkward discussion about cryptocurrency, Raymond’s blackmail of Tòkunbọ̀, and the unnecessary helicopter scene all fail to drive the narrative towards a meaningful emotional or political climax. These uninspired scenes and dialogues highlight Nollywood’s tendency to recycle worn-out themes and aesthetics.
Taiwo Egunjobi, a Nigerian filmmaker credited with All Na Vibes (2021), A Green Fever (2023), and others, perfectly summarises Nollywood’s images as being an embodiment of “splashy melodrama and vibrant exploitation flicks”. For years, Nollywood has relied on this formulaic approach to filmmaking. The focus on topical issues, star-studded casts, hefty budgets, and high-end equipment often leads to the telling of poorly constructed stories. The outcome is frequently a disjointed, clichéd, and ultimately unsatisfying narrative and performance.
By relying on poorly developed plots and characters, overused themes, and borrowed aesthetics, Tòkunbọ̀ perpetuates Nollywood’s tradition of unimaginative storytelling. As 2024 draws to a close, Nollywood can claim only three films with richly developed narratives.
For an industry aspiring to achieve international acclaim at the Oscars, this is a sobering reality—one that offers little to celebrate. The issues with Nouah’s latest feature, without absolving the director of the inherent and avoidable flaws in his work, reflect a broader problem within Nollywood. It’s the problem of mainstream Nollywood filmmakers fixating on securing larger budgets while neglecting the creative development of compelling stories.
It’s the deliberate choice of mainstream Nollywood filmmakers to focus intently on flaunting their budget (in Nouah’s case the helicopter scene) while giving little to no attention to developing the story. This often results in a lack of imagination and a poor quality of storytelling.
As previously mentioned, Nouah’s film is entrenched in Nollywood’s generic storytelling pattern. It retells the same overused narrative of a poor, supposedly desperate man in dire need of money to solve pressing difficulties—a story we’ve seen time and again.
However, what this film does differently is subtly pattern itself after Louis Leterrier and Corey Yuen’s Transporter (2002). Had attention been paid to story development, Folashade’s constant reiteration of being taken less seriously because she is a woman would have been done away with. Although a towering reality of many top career women, at no point does any of Folashade’s subordinates dismiss her statement because she is a woman. Thus, Folashade’s constant bickering comes across as unfounded.
One can tell Okeke enthusiastically plays his role as the lead. Aofiyebi’s performance as Folashade is mostly reminiscent of her role in Adeoluwa Owu’s Adire (which I watched recently to contextualise my judgment) and Niyi Akinmolayan’s The House of Secrets (2023). It’s still that same stiff disposition and penchant for shouting to express control and dominance.
Michael Smith, who plays Bankole, Folashade’s ex-husband, looks mostly detached all through the film. When, in a bid to maintain masculine dominance, he shouts at the mystery kidnapper, his words and performance are barren of life.
Nouah’s new film underscores that Nollywood’s needs extend beyond mere funding. The film highlights that substantial budgets, when handled by seasoned filmmakers who lack dedication to the art and craft of storytelling, can lead to wasteful expenditure. It’s crucial for Nollywood to place a strong emphasis on storytelling and story development.
Dear Nollywood filmmakers, sit with your script!
Rating: 1.6/5
(Tòkunbọ̀ is currently streaming on Netflix)
Seyi Lasisi is a Nigerian creative with an obsessive interest in Nigerian and African films as an art form. His film criticism aspires to engage the subtle and obvious politics, sentiments, and opinions of the filmmaker to see how they align with reality. He tweets @SeyiVortex. Email: seyi.lasisi@afrocritik.com.