When the lens of Clarence Peters isn’t capturing stunning music videos, it periodically gives a shot at Nollywood. A visual storyteller, Peters’ creative canvas extends beyond the realm of award-winning music videos. His short film Hex, a gripping horror story made its debut at the 2015 African International Film Festival, where it won the Best Short Film award, solidifying Peters’ reputation as a promising filmmaker. In his latest offering, Inside Life, set in the heart of Lagos, nothing is as it seems. At once dark and evocative, the six-part mini-series is a chilling portrayal of social and economic injustice and abuse. 

Inside Life’s Official Poster.

Inside Life (the title is awfully apt) presents a gritty revelation of the inner side of life in Lagos, a city where people can disappear without any trace. Make no mistake, this isn’t exactly a film about Lagosians jumping rusty Danfo buses to work and getting stuck in infuriating traffic. It is about how a place can often be home and the mouth of a shark at the same time. Inside Life thrusts us into the deep underbelly of Lagos without running into the risk of melodramatic pitfalls. It is scintillating, without being sensational. Its unflinching realism doesn’t pull any punches, presenting us with a lucid and heart-breaking evaluation of the other side of Lagos. 

Here, in Clarence PetersInside Life world, a father (Gregory Ojefua)  molests his daughters and their mother keeps silent because it is the only way she knows how to survive.  A struggling medical student (Abiola Kazeem) who is on the verge of losing the only family member he has ends up in a cell for something he knows nothing about. Chiamaka (Ndah Eno), a video vixen, leaves home for an audition and does not return. This series explores the pain and utter frustration of life that we may, and rightly so, find it too much to take. Each episode is interwoven with the other, requiring viewers to pay close attention as the show gradually reveals the connections between the characters and events. This narrative structure is why I think this series might be quite challenging to watch or grasp. 

The plot of Inside Life may seem disjointed but it’s intentional. There are no neatly wrapped episode arcs, no spoon-feeding over obvious plot points via voice-overs or flashbacks, and no musical score to tell us how a particular scene or moment should make us feel. Instead, the film forces us to become witnesses to a series of events in much the same way we would witness something unfolding right in front of us. Inside Life is a bleak film through and through. The filmmaker doesn’t intend to sell hope or pander to audience gratification, or cheap victories with his film. He just wants us to see, to know, and be aware.

The characters in Inside Life are as complex as the storytelling, so we get a film where the diverse characters are complicated yet relatable. For instance, the loving sibling relationship between Rachel and her sister in episode 3 as they pick beans for breakfast or complain about mundane things like a toilet smell, yet one of them bears the weight of a secret that could crack this bond between them. Although some characters’ development feels slightly truncated, the emotional investment sparked by their authentic portrayals compensates for this brevity. The writers (Tonia Chukwurah and Olumide Kuti) take their time to introduce you to them, and in the little time they are not dead or kidnapped, we manage to care about them. 

The director’s determination to tackle heavy themes of oppression, abuse, familial relationships and societal rot through an introspective gaze into the characters’ journey and actions shines through. He reminds us again how cruel the custodians of fate can be no matter how totally broken an individual is. One of the characters wittingly says to a character, “It’s only in the movies that good people win and bad people lose…this is real life. Bad people are wolves and good people are sheep.” This is exactly how grim the world of Inside Life is. 

Like its story world, the dialogue in this film is tense and often laden with social commentary, but it never feels preachy. Some of the scenes are shot in eerie silent moments that further convey the intensity of the characters’ predicaments. The cinematography is stark, yet beautiful. Each frame is a fine work of art—as often expected from filmmakers who also ply their trade in the music world. Peters’ lens is both observant and empathetic, capturing the frenetic energy of Lagos streets and the intimate moments of its inhabitants.

Unfortunately, the film’s narrative momentum falters, meandering aimlessly from the latter part of episode 5 to its underwhelming climax. This misstep undermines the initial emotional resonance and social depth that made its early stages compelling to watch. Also, I resent the fact that despite some of the characters’ valiant efforts to change their world or actually belong in it, it never happened to them. The series succeeds in painting hope as a deranged god dancing to the rhythm of souls in anguish. After the first three episodes, you’d know better than to expect redemption for any of the characters but this filmmaker didn’t have to make it so heartbreaking that you come out of the film heavy but not sated.

Inside Life premiered on Netflix on October 11.

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Side Musings 

  • Would have preferred some of the Igbo-speaking actors rather not speak the Igbo language. It often came out forced and unnatural.
  • The kidnap and murder of Titi who was supposed to be Mimi’s guardian in episode 4 was meaningless and just there as a shock factor. For someone who claimed to be street smart, she should have known something was off about that bus.
  • Chiamaka in episode 5 saw her stepmother poisoning her father and kept mute. Was she waiting to see if it was really poison or what?
  • Is Gift in episode 3 foolish or just plain dumb? What kind of stupid audition would take place in such a lonely, rundown building? Not like she is an ajebo lagosian who has lived a sheltered life to not know these things.
  • Should we pretend the same Ade who was imprisoned in episode 1 is not the same person as the bus conductor in episode 3?

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