Chief Daddy 2. Chiefly meh.

Let me tell you about one of my favorite philosophers, some bloke called Mediocrates.

You may wonder what a Greek philosopher has to do with Chief Daddy2. But I assure you, Nollywood worship at the feet of this bloke.

You see, Mediocrates is the Patron Saint of Mediocrity. If you were stuck in an evil vortex of excellence, Mediocrates has the hack to break you free and set you merrily on your way to Humdrumville. I’m positive your eminent self has been a student of Medicrates at various times. I know I have.

Some of the deep wisdom Mediocrates bequeathed us is expressed in time-honored maxims like “whatever,” “it is what it is,” and “it is good enough.” One of my favorite maxims from the bloke is “if the minimum wasn’t good enough, it wouldn’t be the minimum.”

Proper bloke, this chap. He is not hypocritical like the horde who condemn him. You’d usually find him drinking palm wine from 6 am with his chums Idiocrates and Moronicus. It is what it is. It’s probably why nobody talks about him and why you’ve never heard of him.

But Nollywood has. And oh, how they lap up his philosophy! The only status worth aspiring to is the status quo. It is Latin and exotic.

You see where I’m going? Chief Daddy 2 may well have been produced by Mediocrates.

I call a piece of creative work mediocre with a deep sense of humility. Because myself, I’m in the creative business. Be it writing a TV commercial, a song or a book, creative work is a deeply personal and emotional affair. You are creating something that doesn’t exist. And there is no guaranteed formula for success. As such the process is often attended by dollops of anxiety and fear. Will the reception be great? Will the reviews be kind? Will it make money? Will the financiers be happy? Obviously, if you are Mo Abudu and Ebony Life, your angst and fear quotient will be lower. This isn’t Aunty Mo’s first rodeo. Or second. Or third. She’s a big name in TV and movies. Still, a lot is riding on the name. No matter how objective we claim to be, nobody likes criticisms. It bruises our pride. I am therefore not unmindful that my criticisms may not have understanding ears. Still, I choose to fall by that sword.

Besides, let me remind you all that Jide’s Life Matter too. Seeing that movie cost me something too. First, I have to pay for an expensive unlimited internet plan. Second, I must pay for a Netflix premium subscription – which I should stress – is more expensive than my Amazon Prime and Apple TV subscriptions. Then I have anticipations – an emotional investment – about the movie. I look forward to it, raising my endorphin level. Last, I have to make out time to see it, ignoring some important stuff in my life. So, you see, Aunty Mo and Netflix, I have skin in the game too. It’s my money, my time and my emotion. And I am not pleased.

I’ll spare you all the technical details. I’ll summarize my review of the movie in three metaphysical sentences.

It is all sizzle but no steak.

It is heavy-metal sound but no music.

It was a script going somewhere but it forgot where.

I’m not hating. Just saying.

The characters and performances were underwhelming. Assembling an A-lister cast should add oomph to the story and not be a hollow shortcut to mass appeal. After drawing us in to watch, the stars should sustain our interest. But that didn’t happen.

I am not against big names in a movie. I am against big names in a movie for no reason.

The only character I found entertaining in the movie was the Stormzy wanna-be Famzy. Man is laughable.

The dialogue in the movie was corny, the plot and story arch unconvincing and production design meh. Guys, if you can’t simulate an authentic crowd scene in a stadium or an arena, don’t insult us with the pathetic attempts often on display.

In all, I rate the entertainment value as 4/10. The “it” factor would be a 2/10.

And what is it with Ebony Life selling us Dubai at every opportunity? Yea, we get it, the emirate put down some cheddar. But enough with the cheese! You don’t see 007 brushing his teeth with Heineken or wearing Aston Martin boxers.

I know that sequels are notoriously hard to pull off. Even Marvel has to think carefully about sequels, or prequels. I understand Netflix needs to mitigate risks by plopping behind known assets like Chief Daddy, Castle & Castle, King of Boys or How To Ruin Christmas. Africa after all is still a developing market. You’ve got to hedge your bets. I get all that.

But what I don’t get is why Netflix isn’t rigorous about the quality of the script, ergo, the story, it finances in Nigeria.

The biggest problem with Nollywood is the quality of scriptwriting and screenplay. It is usually bereft of nous and imagination.

I refuse to countenance that Netflix is kosher with a minimum viable product in Africa. I don’t know about you, but if I’m putting down serious cheddar on a project, I’d be interested in its quality.

I maintain that the added value Netflix must bring to Nollywood is to raise the quality of scripting and production. It is not to populate our screens with half-wit Nollywood movies. DSTV does that already.

Now, if you are the perceptive reader I know you are, you can and should challenge my assertion about Nolly’s scriptwriting being bereft of nous and imagination. Is it really? Or snobs and faux connoisseurs like me have unrealistic and unjustified expectations?

But how can I not demand the sky when I see Fireboy DML ft Ed Sheeran rack up 13 million views in nine days. Wiz Kid sold out the O2 Arena for two consecutive days! I know that the dynamics of producing a music video and a movie are different and not comparable. But what I see in our music industry is the desire to best one another. To be the biggest hit. This spurs them on to have quality productions and associations. The industry is so competitive, that the words of Mediocrates are drowned out by rhythmic beats.

I don’t see this desire in Nollywood. Yet it has been around long before Naija’s hip-hop sauntered onto the scene.

But here’s a thought: maybe whining people like me are not Netflix’s bulls-eye audience in Nigeria. If Netflix’s emphasis in Nigeria is on Nollywood, I can’t be. I don’t subscribe to Netflix to watch Nollywood. I subscribe to Netflix to watch The Harder They Fall, The Power of the Dog and The Dig.

I’m not disdainful of Nollywood. No. I want Nollywood to get onboard a rocket and go intergalactic. But I am frustrated. This adolescent should be eating goat-meat pepper soup by now and drinking Gulder. But it is still clinging to its mother’s bosom and sucking breast.

Get down boy and be a man!

As far as market segmentation goes, I understand if I’m not the primary target audience. But I’m dying to know who is. Almost all my colleagues and friends don’t care much for Nollywood movies on Netflix either. I mean, they do watch Nollywood movies on Netflix but only out of curiosity and recommendation. They don’t cartwheels or do the chicken dance because A Naija Christmas is coming to Netflix. I obviously can’t generalize for the market based on my own viewership behavior. At best, it is anecdotal evidence.  But I am intrigued to know the psychography of the segment Netflix is after in this market. I’m eager to know the viewership pattern for Nigeria. What is the amount of viewership hours Nollywood commands? Is the viewership of Nollywood movies highest amongst Nigerians in Nigeria or Nigerians in the diaspora?

Maybe it is time Netflix tried existential mood pieces in Nigeria. We’ve seen the attempts at comedic drama. They are not funny. Maybe it’s time to experiment with different themes and genres.

My money is on Ayo Makun (AY) joining the Netflix family in 2022 with his “30 Days In…” and “Trip To…” franchise. Right up Netflix’s alley.

Sigh. It is what it is.

Anyway, Happy New Year everybody! I pray beautiful things happen to you this year.

4 Comments

Mum's not the word. Say something.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Back to Top
%d bloggers like this: