From King of Thieves to Jagun Jagun, House of Gaa and Lisabi, Femi Adebayo is no stranger to the Yoruba language films that have enjoyed mainstream popularity in recent times. His onscreen presence is often marked by a commanding blend of charisma, wit and intensity as he embodies characters that are both larger than life and deeply flawed. Whether playing a ruthless powerbroker, a cunning trickster or a noble hero, Femi Adebayo is always hard to miss. In Seven Doors, a six-part period piece written by Adebayo Tijani and Yinka Laoye, Adebayo draws strength from his previous success as an actor-producer to weave a tale of the timeless consequences of an ancestral transgression on its bloodline.
Following the trailer release of Seven Doors, Adebayo’s directorial debut (with Tope Adebayo and Adebayo Tijani as co-directors) in November, social media greeted it with a flurry of reactions. Some applauded his bold integration of “Igbo culture” in the film (as the trailer would have us believe) and how it was a breath of fresh air given the constant tribal war that happens on social media every two market days. I was more interested in finding out if the seven doors in question had symbolic meaning (perhaps as an opening, a threshold or an obstruction?) or just a literal door that either Adebayo or any of the protagonists in the film are expected to kick down.
Our immersion into this film’s world begins early on with a dramatic opening that is both eerie and shocking: seven women throw themselves off the top of a waterfall. There’s not one word spoken by any of them before they leap to their death and their face is blank, expressionless. This graphic scene builds the suspense and sets the tone for a dark and unsettling chain of events yet to come.
When we first meet our protagonist, Adedunjoye (Femi Adebayo), he is a middle class civil servant who can afford to take his wife and two children to play tennis at a sports club in Lagos. While Adedunjoye is a Yoruba man, his exuberant wife, Amaka (Chioma Chukwuka Akpotha), is Igbo. In a scene shortly after their sports outing, Amaka treats them to an Igbo highlife song and teaches them to dance to the rhythm of the song. It is a beautiful scene; father, wife, and children all shine. There’s a contentment about them, and more so, a contentment about Adedunjoye that one would agree that he married well. At the same time, Adedunjoye’s hometown, Ilara, is in a state of disarray, worsened by corrupt chiefs and their mindless land grab. It is evident that there’s no king in Ilara, at least presently and the lawlessness continues to thrive. Adedunjoye’s uncle, Agunbiade (Dele Odule), and his son, Wale (Kunle Afod), are one of the recent victims of the intimidation and greed of the corrupt chiefs who had just sold his family land to another person. It is in the midst of this peace in Adedunjoye’s home and the chaos in Ilara village, that the oracle chooses Adedunjoye as the new king.
At first, Adedunjoye refuses to accept the kingship, fully aware what it means to be a king, especially in Yourba land. It means forfeiting his insular life with his close knitted family to become the father of the community. His wife, Amaka, effectively playing the role of the supportive and understanding partner, convinces him to answer the call, even giving him some pep talk about how it is his birthright. Akpotha’s character as an outsider to her husband’s culture, I think, alienates her from understanding the complexity that is the kingship title in Yoruba land. Still, he accepts the crown and for a while, there’s a semblance of tranquility. At this point, this film has been slowly burning and trying my patience. There’s none of that palace intrigue and politics implied by the trailer. King Adedunjoye commands respect but never with the subtle or ruthless power of a king. When the first tragedy strikes and then another, both of which are a colossal loss to the royal family and the villagers as well, Adedunjoye is forced to consult the priest and the answer he gets is even more tragic.
The venerable priest portrayed by the inimitable Taiwo Hassan (Anikulapo) in this film serves as a bridge between the past and present. With a presence that exudes wisdom of the old, he brings a sense of gravitas to the narrative. The sheer poetry of his chants and orations is evocative, weaving a spell that transports viewers to a realm of ancient traditions and ancient wisdom. Through him, we get to learn of the atrocious act committed by a bloodline of Adedunjoye, and the ripple effect of that event on Adedunjoye and his subjects.
The narrative of Seven Doors unfolds against the lush landscape of postcolonial Nigeria, a setting that is inferred than explicitly stated, leaving us to piece together the timeline of the story with the help of old naira notes, gramophones and hairdo. Again, when the story jumps to a much earlier period, we still do not get a sense of that time as there are no visible changes in costumes and makeup between the two timelines. The cinematographer (Idowu Adedapo) wants to show us beauty (well, he tries) but somehow lacks the artistry to communicate his dream of visual splendour.
Femi Adebayo and Chioma Akpotha have such easy-going onscreen chemistry that feels so natural and effortless that even though the story has been overdone to death, they’re impossibly charming to watch and we’re swept along anyway. Chioma Akpotha‘s character at first glows from the ease of pure comfort and then you watch her break under the emotional weight of her predicament. Her command of the Yoruba language is so graceful for a non native speaker that even Chief Akin(Aiyetoro Afeez) is stunned by it. Adebayo portrays the role of Adedunjoye as good as the script allows him to but there’s no substance to his character. His character feels more like a narrative convenience created for the functional role of a king without any agency of his own that drives the story. He is not a particularly strong king who can be daring or surprising. Or both.
King Adejuwon (Kolawole Ajeyemi), on the other hand, is the very opposite of Adedunjoye that even centuries after, his actions still echo. He doesn’t take orders from fate. He decides his own fate albeit costly consequences. Typically, he banished his medicine man, the dreaded Esusu, from his kingdom when he no longer served his purpose. But, Aliu Gafar (as Esusu) doesn’t want to be forgotten so easily so he tries as much as possible to own the spotlight with every chance he gets. He might have gotten my full attention and care with a little knowledge of his past and an extra layer of humanity to his character other than the menacing figure he is in all the film’s timeline. His character, I suppose, was only written to be mysterious and sinister and that’s just about it.
Adebayo is able to hold this film together under his careful watch as a director, and this is only possible due to his experience in the genre of his film. In less experienced hands, it would have come undone in the second act. Sadly, his best efforts are undermined by the script’s shortcomings. The narrative is marred by underdeveloped characters written off at will, convenient plot devices and a lack of clear, thematic resonance. While the series looked to take a different route from culturally aware projects as seen in recent epics, there’s nothing new whatsoever about the series; the story’s traditional structure is quite familiar with only a slightly fresh spin. But there’s no argument that it’s not worth telling because some of its universal themes still resonate.
There are some great concepts littered across the 6 episodes, small moments that make you pause, also precious ones you want to put in a glass jar. Surprisingly, the titular “seven doors” has little or no real stake in the story. Only much later does the series reveal that this figurative door is the king’s ceremonial marriage to seven women as did his ancestors. It takes a lot of patience and the love for Chioma Akpotha to continue watching after this knowledge. That said, Seven Doors is a flawed series but viewers who persist will find fleeting moments of satisfaction amidst its narrative imperfections.
Seven Doors premiered on Netflix in Africa on December 13.
It is available to stream globally on Circuits TV.
Share your thoughts in the comments section or on our social media accounts.
Keep track of upcoming films and TV shows on your Google calendar.
Side Musings
- Jide Kosoko’s facial expressions kill me all the time.
- How dare those two new wives throw away the queen’s food in the presence of the king? If it was hot Amala and Ewedu, it would have scalded the king’s feet.
- One of the king’s new wives is as annoying as those silly glasses on her face.
- What was the purpose of the Igbo inlaws at the battle ground between Esusu and the king? Is this a battle between Amadioha and Sango?
- The prosthetic makeup on Kolawole Ajeyemi as a very frail, old man was remarkable and believable but how does such an old man who was often carried about maintain a spotless white cloth?
