The day after Everybody Loves Jenifa had its theatrical release, I went to my local cinema looking to purchase a ticket. The only thing the attendant had to offer, however, was disappointment: “Come back tomorrow. It’s sold out.” I trudged back home with one thought, “I guess everybody really loves Jenifa. I wonder if I will.”
I remember seeing posters for Jenifa at video clubs in 2009. I remember renting the movie, watching it with my family over dinner, and listening to my grandmother implore us while the credits rolled to always mind the company we keep. I remember the word of mouth, and how the film’s fame spread like wildfire and cemented Funke Akindele as a household name. It’s been 16 years since and she has only gotten more successful. Everybody Loves Jenifa broke records set by her previous cinema outing, A Tribe Called Judah, making 45 million naira on its first day despite not being released across Genesis Cinemas. She set a new record with fewer screens; at this point, the title of the film is merely a statement of fact. Still, while all of this is impressive, it doesn’t speak to the film’s quality.
When the story begins, we are back in AMEN Estate and Jenifa, basking in the success of her business and her NGO, decides to collaborate with Mr. Lobster (Stan Nze), a man whose charity work has stolen the spotlight from hers. Jenifa attempts to collaborate with Lobster but he rejects her proposal. Later, on her way to beg him to reconsider his position, she spies Lobster hitting his wife (Nancy Isime) into a coma.
Jenifa cannot sit by and do nothing, so, she brings the case to a women’s rights activist, Madam Bassey (Bisola Aiyeola hamming it up for the camera). The other witness, Ogechi (Lobster’s sister-in-law), refuses to say anything incriminating about Lobster and backs out. Later that night, the man sneaks into Jenifa’s room (holding glow sticks? lightsabers?) to put fear into her heart. Jenifa is scared for her life, but also determined to get justice for Lobster’s wife. At Eko Fest, she reconnects with Toyosi (Olayode Juliana) and the pair are chased through the crowd by dangerous-looking men. Jenifa presumes that Lobster has put out a hit on her. Fortunately, she gets a gig in Ghana and leaves with Toyosi and Adaku, hoping things with Lobster will cool down in the meantime.
The trip to Ghana is not what it seems and even though she means to escape the chaos in Lagos, Ghana has chaos in spades. The apartment they’re lodged in has been used to store hard drugs which are nowhere to be found when the owners return for it. Jenifa and her friends are in danger because the cartel is not about to let them go scot-free. Like the first movie, Jenifa is once again in mortal danger, and must figure out how to survive.
Everybody Loves Jenifa is exactly what you’d expect from a movie based on a TV series (the soft reboot) made for mass appeal: it is increasingly big, i.e. it starts big and only gets bigger. Someone said of Oppenheimer that Christopher Nolan throws a new actor at you every five minutes or so to make you go, “Hey, that’s so-and-so. I didn’t know they were in this movie!” That kind of huge ensemble cast with cameo after surprising cameo is what you can expect from this blockbuster. If the appearance of Hilda Baci or Veekee James doesn’t cause your theatre to erupt, then maybe Lagbaja will. Even D’Banj shows up at some point.
It is fair to say this film is overstuffed with not only characters and special appearances but also subplots. The first half of the film drags and functions almost like a PSA on domestic violence (with a tourism ad for Lagos State wedged in there somewhere) and then it screeches to a halt. The second half is entirely different: a thriller with plot twists and attempts at subversion that don’t land well because the plot points seem pulled out of a hat. Speaking of poor pacing, this film doesn’t seem to know how to enter a scene late and leave early. And on top of that, scenes go on nearly forever repeating information we already know.
The 2008 film worked because Jenifa’s mannerisms appeared side-by-side with characters who played things straight; the comedy was mined from those unlikely interactions. Now, our dear Jenifa is a long way from being a fish out of water and the screen is chock-full of characters who are reduced to a gimmick or two: Adaku still likes food, Mrs. Bassey walks with a limp (because she’s a victim of domestic violence; her husband pushed her down the stairs) and speaks with a lisp and a posh British accent (because I guess someone thought it was funny?) etc.
Even if you loved this film, you would likely agree that the story is very disjointed. Parts exist simply for certain actors to chew up the scenery (which wouldn’t be a problem at all if they were doing anything remotely interesting), like Lateef Adedimeji as Jaburata, who shows up here and there, does his schtick and gets an unsatisfying comeuppance at the end. By that point, I had almost forgotten he was in the film. Patience Ozokwor’s Miss Agnes is like smoke, here one minute and gone the next, the mother-in-law’s character could have been cut and the story wouldn’t have changed one bit. She appears in a couple of scenes and doesn’t even get lines in the final one, hardly a supporting character with an arc, more an excuse to put a famous actress on the poster. There’s no reason you can’t do both. Yet, Everybody Loves Jenifa seems to aim for Chief Daddy levels of carelessness as far as characters are concerned.
The film seems to have been made in reverse: find out what or who sells, and wedge them in the film, whether they mesh well with the story or not. Everybody Loves Jenifa is almost like an ad for itself“ even while you’re watching it, the film keeps trying to hype you up to watch it, trying to justify its existence, even though its story is paper-thin.
But it’s definitely not all bad news. The romance between Jenifa and Shege (Falz) is one place the film blends comedy well with a heartfelt portrayal of love and all the trouble it brings. My theatre roared with cheers and applause at the end when they expressed their commitment to each other. Layi Wasabi as Shege’s friend, Rex, is one of the standout performances; he plays off of Falz and Akindele so well that their scenes with others almost pale in comparison. Generally, the scenes in Ghana fare better than the largely inconsequential plot in Lagos, and everyone from Jackie Appiah (who looks like she’s having the time of her life as drug baron, Bebe), to Tope Tedela (as her right-hand man) and Chimezie Imo (as a drug courier who has one very bad day) puts their best foot forward.
Another positive here is a running joke where characters who are stunned by Jenifa’s grammatical blunders attempt to correct her, even in life-or-death situations. Imagine pointing out that someone is breaking the rules of concord while you’ve got a gun to their face. This kind of absurdist humour is where the film should have cashed a lot of its cheques, but sadly, instances of these are few and far between.
Sitting in the theatre, listening to people guffaw and clap at the screen, I had the question: Why do people love Jenifa? Is her story a kind of wish-fulfillment for us, the audience? Is it just about our tendency to root for underdog characters? Or are we all laughing at the relatable archetype-turned-caricature? Maybe it’s all of them. Maybe none; maybe Funke just has that huge a brand.
Everybody Loves Jenifa is far from Akindele’s lowest lows (She Must Be Obeyed quickly comes to mind) or her stratospheric highs. It sits somewhere in the middle as an okay film with a lot of heart and about 30 minutes that could have been shaved off. If you enjoyed Jenifa’s Diary, or any of its predecessors, then you’d probably love this nostalgia sequel. If you never saw or enjoyed the series, and are merely looking for something cool to watch in December, you’re definitely in for a surprise.
Everybody Loves Jenifa premiered at the cinemas on December 13.
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Side Musings
- I must not be alone in thinking that Toyosi is a victim of character assassination in this film; there’s barely any resolution to that subplot either. She just disappears from the film.
- It was nice to see and hear Lagbaja.
- Layi Wasabi. Funke Akindele. Siblings. A road-trip movie. Call me.
- Was Bisola’s character doing the Annalise Keating walk? Also, why was that character?
- The plot point of Lobster cheating on his wife with Angel (Destiny Etiko) goes nowhere and like most things in this movie, is a waste of valuable screen time.
- In her review of Jenifa (2008), Funmi Iyanda writes, “Instead, it oscillated between fairly good comedy, badly done drama and sub plots that suspend credibility.” Yes.
- A sequel is almost inevitable, right?
