A scene in Okafor’s Law may be familiar to some viewers. Chuks (Blossom Chukwujekwu),
a guy nicknamed Terminator for his way with women, stands by a window.
Behind him, a lady he’s just had sex with asks, “What happens to us
now?”
“Babe,” he says, “there’s no us.”
She leaves angrily. She is about to get married. With that scene, Omoni Oboli‘s follow-up to the ghastly Wives on Strike
has made a point it will develop over the next hour: man emerges as
conqueror in sexual affairs. Women are cursed with feelings.
The story follows Chuks Okafor who accepts a bet from two friends (played incapably by Ken Erics and passably by Gabriel Afolayan) that he can bed three girls he has had years before, while attending university. He accepts because he is a firm believer in Okafor’s Law
– which dear reader, you must have heard about. If you haven’t, this is
what it comes down to: “If you shag a woman you can shag her again.”
Of course, the Law (not theory, as we reminded over and over in the
film) has always had undertones of misogyny, if only because it is
silent on the reverse: It never tells if shagging a man means you can
shag him again. Oboli, it seems from this film and Wives on Strike, has
sex on her brain. She also has the prudish Nigerian sense of morality.
To reconcile these contradictions, she uses humour as mediator.
The most apparent use of humour is in giving same name (Chuks) to all
three friends; to tell them apart they have different nicknames. (It
might also be a clever way of saying all three are different parts of
one man.) The three girls (because, well, there must be some symmetry)
are played by Oboli herself, Toyin Aimakhu, and Ufuoma McDermott.
One is now a devout, another a high ranking professional, the last is a
rich man’s wife. The film shows how Chuks the Terminator goes after all
three and the aftermath of his quest.
If you assume a film, on an essentially sexist premise, made by a
woman might feature criticism of said, law and lead to the women having
the trump card, you will be wrong.
In fact, the most harm that comes to Terminator comes at the hands of
another man. Even as the women here appear more empowered than the
women of Wives on Strike, they still are women who take sex as
means to an end. The earlier film had better behaviour from men as its
end; this one has marriage and the promise of ever after. Women,
according to these films, can never see sex as an end. It is too
frivolous an activity or too serious an act. Sex is sin.
What passes for humour is once again the banal. There is a version of Zainab Balogun’s cultured caterer in The Wedding Party speaking Yoruba: Aimakhu does same here.
Also, the stereotypes pile: A rich man’s wife is unhappy; a
successful woman needs love; a born again lady is merely waiting for the
right dick. All of these may be true, but an artist should transform
facts to something more.
Okafor’s Law gives the lessons but comes off as bland. Omoni
Oboli, as a director, might have good intentions. So far she just
doesn’t seem able to transform her righteous convictions into cinematic
art.
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