Consider ‘Brotherhood’ Nollywood’s Finest Attempt at Domesticating the Action Film Genre

Oris Aigbokhaevbolo

It appears that women are fully in charge of Nollywood’s mainstream innovations. The average Nigerian blockbuster has the fingerprints of Mo Abudu and Kemi Adetiba gave us our most convincing gangster epic, King of Boys. One of our best romcoms, Isoken, was directed by Jade Osiberu, who has now returned as producer of Brotherhood, which, to put it modestly, is the most ambitious action film made in Nollywood in at least two decades. That Nigerian cinema doesn’t do too many films in the action genre isn’t a blight on its achievement; it is proof. 

Of course, there is an argument to be made about the film’s origins since its director, the wonderfully competent Loukman Ali, is Ugandan. But that argument is outside the scope of this review. 

At the start of the film, a man is killed. We see his body dragged outside of his car in the pouring rain and we see his kids, twin boys, look at his lifeless body. It’s not the most compelling of scenes—the kid actors aren’t great—but it does introduce the main characters, both of whom have seen their father killed. The next time we see them, they are adults. Akin (a very convincing Tobi Bakre) returns from prison; his brother, Wale, a police officer, gets a promotion. 

For anyone familiar with the action genre, this is a familiar setup. The challenge before Loukman, who is also the film’s cinematographer, and his crew is a simple one: how well will the elements, especially the familiar American genre ones, be handled in a locale that is distinctly non-western?

Well, that question is answered brilliantly by a key decision. Rather than use English, the film’s major languages are Yoruba and pidgin, the blend of which recalls Dare Olaitan’s Ojukokoro, another film featuring robbery, violence, and a fine use of Nigerian lingo. 

The purposeful use of Nigerian languages proves important to the film’s verisimilitude when the adult actors come onscreen. The boys are said to have grown up rough in Oshodi—but as played by Falz and Bakre, they look too well-bred to be real street kings. Thus, the use of Yoruba helps authenticate the harsh experience visited on the boys as claimed by the plot. 

And so, away we go. Akin (who is popularly known as Kala) meets an old friend, Izra (OC Ukeje), whose group of bandits, the Ojuju Boys, led by Shadow (Basketmouth) is terrorising the neighbourhood. The scene of their meeting is the film’s first truly notable scene, as it ends with Izra instructing Kala to shout as though hurt, even if he is unscathed. Izra and Kala would meet again, this time without the pressures of an ongoing operation and the result of this subsequent meeting would lead us to the film’s meaty second act. 

For his part, Wale would impress his boss (Sam Dede) on his first day with an elite unit and this would pave the way for some romance to come into his life. By then, if you are an action film fan, you can tell that the twin brothers are heading for the showdown that will serve as the film’s climax. But knowing that, I can assure you, will not detract from the thrills when they do start coming. And when, we get to these scenes, Ali, whose pacing of the first few scenes suggests an impatience to get to the action, will get his chance to truly shine. Anyone who sees this film and is looking for more will be well-served by heading to his YouTube channel. Over there is a surfeit of evidence of his genius at Africanising the action and noir genres. Netflix has noticed that genius. Osiberu has noticed. It won’t be long before everybody else notices. 

As with the aforementioned King of Boys, Brotherhood’s execution is not entirely flawless—comedian Basketmouth as a criminal kingpin isn’t too believable, at least one death is overly engineered in a manner that defies the logic set by the film’s own characterisation, and, if you know Lagos, it is best not to think too much about the geographical configuration of the set-pieces. For the politically minded, the non-unflattering sight of a team of police officers clutching guns at a well-known Lagos landmark might recall the violent events of October 2020. And it hardly helps that these officers have the letters SWAT on their vests, given that the dreaded SARS morphed into SWAT during the protests. 

But if these are things only an oversabi reviewer notices, allow the same person to tell you that Brotherhood is a Nollywood action film to be applauded for its ambition, its vision, and its competence. This is a film that sets out to thrill a crowd gathered in a dark hall or a person holding a device—and succeeds. Many several viewers will see it twice. 

•Aigbokhaevbolo, an award-winning writer and critic, writes from Lagos.