The Funke Akindele moral lesson cinematic universe has been expanded with the addition of her latest, Behind the Scenes. Co-directed by Tunde Olaoye, it is a film that follows the wealthy, benevolent Ronke Fernandez, who reaches a breaking point after her family’s constant leeching. With Funke as the reigning queen of the Nigerian box office, this entry has a huge financial bar to cross but a much lower critical bar.
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At its core, Behind the Scenes is a relatable story. It is an entirely original idea not tied to any of Akindele’s previous franchises, and it taps into a familiar Nigerian reality. Many families have that one person who carries the financial burden for everyone else. And for some Nigerians, they are that person. With that narrative, the film is interested in the extortionate nature of our family dynamics but a sheen of artifice wraps around the film, preventing any real emotional ascent. The film is a combination of many surface-level characters, an obvious twist halfway into the film, aged stereotypes, atrocious product placement and a maid with distracting veneers. There is no time the film justifies any emotional investment, even when it draws out a pivotal tragic scene with melodramatic music and acting.
The acting constantly seems detached from the film in the many ways it interacts with the material form of the process. So when they act, the places the characters are (and costuming) are in constant friction with performance. Characters are heavily made up in moments that require bare face vulnerability; when Ronke and Mariam (Uche Montana) are playing chess at her house late in the night and she gets a phone call to come to her estate location, they’re both covered in layers of makeup that seem out of place for a supposedly relaxed moment. It’s a recurrent complaint in Nollywood, and in this film, these layers of fakery stretch over its runtime.
Sometimes, good moments peek through these layers of facade: Scarlet Gomez (WURA) works just fine as the perfect Ronke Fernandez, extracting some dynamism from the boring perfection of her character, which is set up as a contrast to the greed of the family and friends that surround her. The rest of the cast oscillates between outrageously comical and contrived sadness; Tobi Bakre (Brotherhood) is vibrant as Adewale, the entitled lastborn, and Funke Akindele slips in and out of the Jenifa persona early on in the film before finding balance as Adetutu, the wicked elder sister.
The balancing act doesn’t translate to the film’s main plot. The spoon feeding of morals and values continues like every other Funke Akindele project, an infantilization of the audience that one can argue has proven commercially bulletproof—assume lowest common denominator, collect box office returns, and repeat—but also stunted her storytelling. It banks on the relatability of its elements: the main story, the language and familiarity of the paper-like characters to carry it to success. But the story is pure text with dialogue that pushes information to your face without informing character dynamics—at some point, Uzor Arukwe (Suspicion) as Victor, Ronke’s lawyer and best friend, talks about her diagnosis like a ChatGPT prompt in a moment that’s supposed to reinforce the family’s new struggle. Also, many jokes are made at the expense of the driver’s tribal marks, which lazily fall into tribal stereotypes we have seen in previous work like She Must Be Obeyed and generally in Nollywood. Continuing in that fashion is Destiny Etiko as the maid, Oluchi, who sometimes draws out an emotional performance but speaks in a confusing Igbo accent expected to draw cheap laughs.
The shortcomings of the story continue with cardboard characters that crumble at slight scrutiny. It follows that same problematic detachment where nothing feels truly believable: the glimpse of Ronke as a solid planner that we get is only brought in to push a hasty descent into a crying mess, Adewale’s character transformation after tragedy strikes is never quite fleshed out, and Victor is a lawyer (whose job in the story is to stand beside Ronke and deliver plot points) about to become a SAN.
Complementing the messiness of the story, the filmmaking lands in uninteresting territory. Nothing visually excites and nothing compliments or elevates a plot point. The cameras capture a moment and move on with shots that have become almost templatic and averse to flair and experimentation, in service of a December blockbuster. All the sets are so glossy to the point of fakeness; these characters do not live in these places and you can tell. The wealth is generic and ugly, with large sums of money mentioned to no real effect.
In the end, Behind The Scenes never truly goes behind any scenes. It continues Funke’s didactic work within the same traditional framework inherited from Yoruba theatre storytellers, but without refining the aspects required to translate to the big screen. The film seems like a failed clone of a better film that could have addressed familiar financial family dynamics. Instead, it dresses this clone with elements that are in constant friction: characters with fake jobs more interested in stereotypes and forced humour, a relatable story clogged by forced moral lessons and an intrusive Knorr and Colgate ad in the name of product placement.
Ultimately, it sits in the safety of Akindele’s ability to draw large audiences, offering just enough to keep that crowd: occasional laughs, familiar fight scenes and a wedding closer. Its place as the highest-grossing film of the year is all but sure, but will the safety of this position continue to creatively stunt her output and the rest of the industry?
Behind the Scenes was released in cinemas nationwide on December 12, 2025.
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Side Musings
- Uzor’s character has pictures of him holding a baseball bat all over his office, which implies he plays baseball in Lagos. I would like to know where.
- The “men and women can be best friends” agenda has gained a new supporter with this film.
- The use of chess to show that Ronke is a very smart character is one of the most unintentionally funny parts of this film.
