A big city and its inhabitants are the focus of filmmaker Afolabi Olalekan’s engaging feature debut. Shot on location in the Nigerian capital of Lagos, the film has a palpable understanding of this big metropolis. Its pace is fast like the city, and it follows many characters whose stories continue to converge, as if Lagos were making them crash into each other. Olalekan maintains a firm grip on both the many narratives and the kinetic pace of the film, all of which make for a compelling and thoughtful watch, even if some of what transpires seems implausible and too coincidental.
The thematic linchpin of the crossing stories are macro subjects: corruption and economic strife. The micro subjects are the inter-relationships between several characters and how they depend on one another to survive in the city.
The first to be introduced are software developers Themba (Jesse Suntele) and Tayo (Mike Afolarin), who are launching a ride-share app for commercial motorcyclists. One such rider is Abiola (Adebowale Adedayo), a family man with a young daughter and wife (Meg Otanwa) who depend on him. There’s a corrupt cop (Femi Jacobs) and a righteous doctor (Taye Arimoro). Disconcertingly at first, each narrative thread is separate from the others, but before long they all come together. Blessing Uzzi’s screenplay operates a bit like an Asghar Farhadi story, where an incident becomes a catalyst for the ensuing proceedings, except that here, the filmmakers throw several accidents and coincidences together.
“Freedom Way” is a melodrama of heightened situations. Every plot swerve is a tad more emphatic than realistic. Olalekan is keen on critiquing Nigerian society. To achieve his goal, he’s not afraid to use methods that intensify the film. There are musical interludes. There’s also heartbreak, loss of life, scenes of intimidation and physical force and much scuffle with the law. The emotions are always loud. The decisions the characters are faced with are life and death, sometimes literally. All this makes for a rather unsettling watch, though Olalekan is in confident command at the wheel making it all come together seamlessly.
Despite this, the performances are mostly quiet and reserved, which works in the film’s favor. These characters deal with all this mayhem with quiet resolve. They may panic, they might be desperate, but they keep it all in check. If the plot often veers into implausibility, the actors give it naturalism. Adedayo carries the melodramatic weight of this narrative. With a face that registers big emotions and a body constantly in motion, he becomes the reason the audience understands the gravity of the near-impossible situations his character faces. Yet he’s never shrill, just palpably worried. He’s matched well by Otanwa, who gives a quietly affecting performance, putting her sad and worried eyes at the forefront.
Suntele and Afolarin act as audience surrogates in the film, not just because the story starts with them, but because they mostly remain observers and commentators on the action. Their characters are always on opposing sides, whatever argument the screenplay is pushing. As yin and yang, the actors give the sometimes abstract opinions their characters are espousing verve and make them believable.
With a camera in constant motion and sharp editing that speeds up the rhythm, “Freedom Way” whizzes by smoothly, despite its many plot swerves. Olalekan keeps close to the actors, thus increasing the audience interest in the characters’ plight. Coupled with a distinct feel for Lagos itself, that strategy keeps both the action and visuals always intriguing. There might be a few far-fetched moments that strain credulity, but it ultimately leads to a satisfactory viewing experience. The melodrama adds insight into the inner workings of Lagos, and puts the audience deep inside this fascinating city.
Source link
