Film Rats Club

August 31, 2021

Feature

KING OF BOYS: THE RETURN OF THE KING, EPISODE 2 “A WOUNDED LION IS STILL A LION” REVIEW

by Eke Kalu Everyone’s favorite adage-spewing, tongue-lashing, hair-raising, original Lagos gangster is back. And she only wants one thing. Well, she wants two things, but all more of the same. Power. It’s the same thing she wanted in the original King of Boys film. As the already established king of the Lagos underworld, she was desperate for the political spotlight. Whatever lessons on greed from the first film seem to have been quickly forgotten, she’s still gunning for the same thing that put two of her beloved children in a box. Only this time, after five years away, she’s an outsider on two fronts: her beloved  ‘King of boys’ table (they brought the chair back) and the political tillage. Lagos be damned. Second time just might be the charm? The second episode – A Wounded Lion is still a Lion – picks up not too far from where the first episode left off. Eniola has declared her intentions to both run for the Governor of Lagos state and reclaim her throne back from the new king, Odudubariba. Played by Charles “Charlyboy” Oputa” Odudubariba’s most menacing quality is probably his choice of clothes. A deliberate exercise in colors and vanity from the costume department. They stand in contrast to the moderate garbs of the other members of the table. He’s like a peacock, fluttering and demonstrating, all too aware that he’s not the real thing. Five years after Eniola abandoned her throne, the table is divided. Some are still unconvinced of their loyalty to this new King. Odudubariba refuses to make a move on her when she’s arguably at her weakest. Instead, he declares that she must first willingly announce him king, seeking validation from the original King of Boys. Eniola Salami’s mythos has always bordered on godhood, but the actions that provoke this lore frequently skirt the ridiculous. Perhaps, that is what it truly means to be a god among men, to be exasperated at their shortcomings, to belittle and seldom fail to remind them of whom they dare converse with, to ponder why you don’t just murder the whole lot of them. Much so that the episode’s dialogue becomes entirely entrapped in circles of parley about kings and their thrones, about vain proverbs, about murder and revenge, darkness and punishment. Laburu may be prophet and fulfillment of her vengeance, but she is in very equal parts a skillful converter to her trusted religion of fear. For all the criticism fired at the first film for it’s lack of nuance, thanks to Sola Sobowale’s exaggerated methods, she’s never been afraid to use the space around her. In this, she excels in the way that her co-actors do not. They’re too rigid and unfeeling, all the supposed expressions of nuance in grimace and heaviness manifesting in still, sunken frames, never finding life in their movements. There’s a scene where in frustration, Eniola Salami darts in and out of the frame. Deyemi Okanlawon’s insufferable Mr. Fashina stays rooted to the edge of his seat and Titi Kuti’s Ade Tiger lurks likes a mannequin in the background. The camera takes a neutral stance and does well to track her movements but as with much of the scenery in this episode, refuses to explore beyond the conventional. This, coupled with the fast-paced nature of the footage, gives much of this episode a claustrophobic feeling. As we jump from one scene to the other, the failed promise of something more can’t help but linger. Eniola is running for the gubernatorial elections on an independent ticket, and her politics appears to be garbled in a ‘them versus us’ narrative, which unfortunately has always been dangerously enough for the Nigerian electorate. The seeming ridiculousness of the whole ordeal should normally be jarring for any viewer, but given the knowledge that this isn’t altogether too far from what happens in real life, it borders on amusing and slips often into caricature. Only for obvious reasons, it ignores some of the more real nuances of Lagos politics. As a result, she spends much of the episode trying to source for an endorsement from two staples of Lagos politics. Religion and the markets. In front of her, listening to her lofty proposals, are RMD’s tired sketch of a character in Reverend Ifeanyi and the influential Iya Oloja. Both attempts fail rather dramatically as Eniola finds that after five years, allies will not be found so easily. Her frustration is somewhat manifest in the hallucinations from her younger self, still played by Toni Tones. Her only advice seems to be to murder everyone, of course, described in much more graphic detail. Another character born of the exaggerated ilk is Efa Iwara’s Dapo. An idealistic journalist for “The Conscience Newspaper ” who has no problem disappointing his kid in one frame and eagerly jumping into work in the next. It appears to be a recurring theme amongst Nollywood films that attempt to imagine the utter chaos that is the Nigerian polity to caricature the youthful zeal of Nigerian patriotism. We saw this same fervor with Enyinna Nwigwe’s by-the-book Ike from 4th Republic and even the original King of boys’ Nurudeen Gobir (Paul Sambo). He doesn’t make an appearance in this episode, but we learned from the last that he’s now the head of the NCCC. These characters spend much of their time on screen relaying the importance of their work to some father figure like Oga at the top, who like many viewers, has seen enough of Nigeria to advise them of the futility of their efforts. So, It seems like something more of an inside joke from Kemi Adetiba when Dapo tries to do the same. Unfortunately, Dapo isn’t in on it. In between desperately trying to convince his boss of the need for his big story, Dapo also does a little bit of convincing with his wife on why he’s not a terrible father. He showed up two days late for his son’s birthday and has a habit of

Feature

KING OF BOYS: THE RETURN OF THE KING , EPISODE 1 “A KING’S WELCOME” REVIEW

by Osamudiamen Joseph Even if you have been living under a rock, chances are you have come across some promotional material for the sequel to Kemi Adetiba’s 2018 movie, King of Boys. From the teaser released almost a year ago to the countless ads on YouTube and the radio promoting Netflix’s new mobile payment plan of #1,200 per month, it’s been exceptionally hard to miss. I wrote a critique of the first movie where I mentioned that “the last shot where Eniola peers over her cup, smiling with her eyes into the camera and straight at the audience is…pregnant with meaning. The king will return. And you’d better be ready when she does.” And the king does return, in a seven-part miniseries aptly titled, The Return of the King, ready to take Lagos by storm once again. The sequel to King of Boys was always going to be an event film. I had pictures in my head of turning up to the cinema, together with other cinephiles and the general moviegoing public, decked in white agbada and fine leather shoes to boot, eager to witness the homecoming of the king. And even though we couldn’t get the cinemagoing experience, the seven episodes available on Netflix promise more meat on the bones of this story, more characters, more plot threads, more conflict and a deeper dive into the world of corrupt politicians, heartless gangsters and law-abiding government officials that held us spellbound in the first installment. This is a review of the first episode in the series.   *** The episode begins with a party organized by Illbliss’s Odogwu Malay. There is music, dancing and a general feeling of merriment in the air that is suddenly cut short by news of Eniola Salami’s  unexpected arrival. Her well-wishers have come to the airport to welcome her back to her fatherland. Someone informs the crowd that mama ti de o, and we immediately hear Eniola’s theme, that haunting piece of music we were left with at the end of the first movie: the king is back for real. The headline on TV reads: Recently exonerated Eniola Salami returns after 5-year exile abroad. She first addresses the crowd through Mr. Fashina and then when the people implore her to speak for herself, she announces her intention: the Lagos state gubernatorial elections are coming up and she declares that she’s throwing her gele in the ring. A reporter asks her why she has returned to a country where she lost everything and her response is as vague as it is badass: ile oba to jo, ewa lo bu si. One heartwarming scene in the episode is her reunion with Ade Tiger who has become something of a surrogate son to her. The rest of the episode introduces the other players in this saga: Odudubariba (played by an exceptionally cast Charles ‘Charlyboy Oputa) who has seized control of the table in her absence; Dapo Banjo (Efa Iwara) a journalist whose unhealthy obsession with work has alienated his family; and the governor and First Lady of Lagos state (Lord Frank and Nse Ikpe-Etim). However, by far, the highlight of the episode comes when Eniola visits the grave of her children. It’s clear she is still grieving and right then and there, she is ready to retire, to give up all her ambition and her revenge schemes and live out the rest of her days being grateful to God for the gift of life. But the ghost of her past self still haunts her. Literally. In a fresh and exciting directorial decision by Kemi Adetiba, Eniola’s younger self, played by Toni Tones, follows her around and frustrates all her desires to turn over a new leaf. She is constantly yelling at her to get rid of her guilt and get her act together. She is the manifestation of Eniola’s rage; rage born out of getting trampled on in the last movie by the higher-ups; rage that is swelling from the loss of her children and status while her enemies partied in her wake, feasting on the carcass of what was left of her glory. This Return of the King is like a chess game and this first episode is the equivalent of all the players being arranged on the board in their starting positions. Here, Kemi Adetiba expands on the previous story by introducing more characters and lets us know what is at stake. In the last movie, Eniola was frustrated from fighting battles on three fronts: at home, with her children (especially Kitan), at the table with Makanaki and his insubordination, and with Aare and the higher-ups who denied her ministerial appointment. In this series too, she is not without opposition: the governor and the first lady are threatened by her political aspirations while Odudubariba states clearly that he wants Eniola on her knees begging for her life. It is revealed, too, that the president is not quite happy with her. And of course, Aare is back and, just like last time, he is a force to be feared.   *** This first episode titled A King’s Welcome is bold and it delivers on the promise of the premise: the king has returned. Yes, she’s at her lowest point (she even has to run her operations from a guest house because all her assets have been seized and her funds, frozen) but a lion does not stay down for too long. There were a couple things I found a bit off in the execution though. There is a scene where Eniola asks for fresh pepper to be boiled in water and given to her. Later, we see her soak a whip in the mixture and engage in some self-flagellation. Literally. The problem with this is that it feels very on-the-nose and throws all opportunity for nuance out the door. How is the audience supposed to know that Eniola is not only still grieving but still blames herself for what happened to her children? Well, let’s have

Scroll to Top