Amanyanabo: The Eagle King review – a lavish Nollywood epic of crowns, gods and colonial tension

Amanyanabo: The Eagle King review – a lavish Nollywood epic of crowns, gods and colonial tension

Set in the 19th-century kingdom of Okrika in the Niger delta, this Nollywood epic has a satisfying core of realpolitik and Kulturkampf that wouldn’t shame the likes of old-school classical-era equivalents such as Ben-Hur. Revolving around the accession to the throne of elite warrior Ibanichuka (Patrick Diabuah), it touches on questions of political legitimacy, politics as the art of the possible, the proselytisation of west Africa by Christians and – that still-simmering hot potato – white colonialism.

One minute Ibanichuka is on leave for overzealously butchering enslaved people, the next the goddess Tamunoba anoints him in a lake as Okrika’s saviour. Though ratified by the elders, he is still under general suspicion for his devotion to his wife, Mboro, (Monalisa Chinda Coker), who is unable to bear children, and for generally being a soft touch. He also has a monotheism problem: the local priest has switched sides to Christianity, desecrating his former idols, and chief Ogan (Nkem Owoh) is slyly pushing the lord’s agenda in Okrika – which may include free trade with the British.

From Ibanichuka’s mirror-fronted headpiece on downwards, Amanyanabo: The Eagle King has an undeniable claim to being the best dressed epic of all time. But its exploration of the responsibilities of power, often couched in prolix dialogue, does get ponderous. Co-directors Fred Amata and Ibinabo Fiberesima promisingly set up the pincer pressures of Ibanichuka’s reign: the belligerent warrior culture testing his strength on one side, the Christians teeming like “unbridled chickens” on the other. But they lose their grip on the realism needed to underpin the hard-nosed subject matter; the cast often lapse into vaudevillian acting, and the rushed staging renders a pivotal assassination attempt scene more like a pub car park punch-up.

Ibanichuka emerges as a “middle-way” candidate who tries to dispense benevolence equally. But, heavily focused on detailing a long series of internecine rivalries, the film falls short of fully digging into why his character runs to self-sacrificing extremes as he faces down a rapacious British consul (Lucien Morgan). All the same, the directors conjure up the glories of Okrika culture and handle large-scale bloodshed with brio; this is the kind of self-confident revisionist history that is good news for African cinema.

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