BY IKENNA OBIOHA
When compared with their male counterparts, the number of female Nollywood filmmakers is quite insignificant, but there seems to be a steady rise in the number of female filmmakers recently. Following in the footsteps of Stephanie Linus and Tope Oshin Ogun, more women in the film industry are sensitised to take narratives and tell tales from a different perspective instead of settling for acting alone. One of such women who took up the mantle to achieve the rare status of becoming a director is Nollywood’s star actor Genevieve Nnaji.
Securing a spot at the Toronto International Film Festival, streaming giant Netflix acquired her movie Lionheart on its first screen date to be its original content. The directorial debut from the Mbaise born would go to become the first Netflix original from Nigeria.
Following this impressive feat, the fanfare for the movie kicked off from fans and critics alike, mainly in anticipation of what Nnaji could bring to the table in terms of storytelling and cinematography. And this anxiousness grew even more with the knowledge of the acquisition by Netflix whose reputation for pushing premium contents on its streaming platform is established worldwide.
The 94-minute plot of Lionheart chronicles the journey of Adanna Obiagu (Genevieve Nnaji) who through rational means ensured that her family owned business Lionheart Transport is rescued of the debt incurred by her father Ernest Obiagu (Pete Edochie), but more importantly, making sure it didn’t fall into the hands of their nemesis, Igwe Pascal (Kanayo .O. Kanayo), a hovering vulture eager to take the spoils brought about by internal company friction.
Although, painted as the heroine of the story, help came in the form of her uncle, Godswill Obiagu (Nkem Owoh). The movie exploits the power of family in the face of adversity and portrays the typical Igbo family setting to highlight certain traditional norms like the trade occupation majorly taken up by the Ibos. A probable sequence in the event of things, we see how the ‘family factor’ plays out well in the face of external forces when Godswill steps in, rendering the plot with fair level of plausibility with the cliché script.
With a line-up of veterans like Pete Edochie, Onyeka Onwenu and Kanayo .O. Kanayo, it is a no brainer that each would hold their own in delivering stellar performances, but where the problem lies is with its limited use of contemporary faces in the industry, and even when they appear, they take on minor roles as serving a cup of coffee or finishing the sentences of others.
Featuring music stars like Mr. P and Phyno further exposed the ambition of the film project. Not only will these artistes attract much fanfare for the movie, but also will swing their core fans who will be eager to see them in cameo roles to the Lionheart camp.
This is not an entirely bad move; however, it strips original actors the opportunity to showcase real acting that would have improved the arty taste of the film.
On Lionheart, Nnaji had a lot to prove to the African and Nigerian audience thematically, and this comes as no surprise considering the central character of the film Adanna. Here, she banked on the femininity and some of its shortcomings in a society where men are more recognised and more listened to. Being a mother of one who worked her way up in the movie industry it is safe to say that the character Adanna is a projection of Nnaji, hence making the task of playing Adanna natural as she delivers in her role. Having a strong message as promoting the values of the female child in a Nigerian home in this case wouldn’t be an easy task to accomplish. Nnaji did compromise on her message delivery and for a very good reason too.
Considering the immediate market which is the black continent, she deftly plied the narrative with a dose of comedy. A culturally sensitive African market may not readily buy into her story, but would applaud anything that come styled as comedy. Clearly, the comedy genre was employed to cajole the audience into swallowing the bitter pill that comes in the form of female empowerment.
In another sense, the script was manipulated to help the character Adanna thrive. In a typical Igbo setting, the son, no matter his position in the family is normally groomed to oversee his father’s accrued wealth. But in this case, Obiora’s obstinate focus on his not so successful music career, the responsibility falls on Adanna. It would have been more compelling story had both children shown interest in the family business but Lionheart shows Adanna saving the day. At this point, it loses plausibility because in reality, the responsibility of running the business will fall on Obiora, even if he would be mediocre at doing so.
Still, Lionheart wasn’t exactly unpredictable in its plot sequence. The end was obvious, the comedic offerings maintained a particular fashion, the script laboured with too many messages that sometimes were eccentric from the rather controlled setting, but overall, cinematography takes the cake on this one, a success currently lacking in most Nollywood productions .
Nnaji in her long spanning career has achieved many first greats, and Lionheart goes on to further solidify her artistry. On a platform as Netflix, representation is imperative to change most narratives and correct false perceptions; this is what Lionheart does in telling the tale of African girls. Little wonder she dedicated the entire movie to Amaka Igwe, a woman whose era had little feminist support but nevertheless paved way for most female filmmakers in the industry today.
Despite its strong feminism bent, the movie highlights values such as nation building, family, love, and ethics. Its many hues reflect entities that tell collective story of a people, a true reflection of the many journeys embarked by women and men of the black continent, its displays the incredible natural endowments of Nigeria and encourages patriots to embrace unity as a source of unbeatable strength that defeats all foes.
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