“Ololade”: A Familiar Story Riddled With Inconsistencies

Eerie music, silhouettes shots, and a suspenseful introduction make for an intriguing albeit cliché opening in many series, and Netflix’s latest addition, Ololade, follows suit. However, unlike some of its predecessors, the effectiveness of this technique wanes swiftly as we delve into the first episode of the film, and that is what defines the entire outing of this series.

Under the direction of Adeniyi Joseph-Omobulejo and with Lani Aisida as the Head Writer, Ololade unfolds as a 6-episode Netflix-acquired original series. Femi Adebayo (Lateef) and Frank Donga (Shina) take the lead roles, portraying two friends who stumble upon a substantial fortune through dubious means. While this newfound wealth drastically transforms their lives, it also intricately complicates them.

Shina, a school teacher with dreams of wealth, has his fate changed by a dubious pastor’s prayer, leading to a sudden windfall of 50 million naira. Meanwhile, Lateef, a part-time auto-mechanic and full-time womanizer, faces a crisis when his sugar-mummy (Mercy Aigbe)  catches him in the act with one of his side chick, Laide (Ololade Shomala).  One thing leads to another, Laide is accidentally murdered in the confrontation. To conceal the tragic accident, they decide to bury the body, and in the aftermath, Lateef is compensated with 20 million naira, marking a swift transformation to a rich status.

The fleeting nature of newfound wealth becomes evident as Lateef grapples with haunting memories from Laide’s death, tormenting his soul. Simultaneously, Shina faces threats when the mysterious Black Lions demand a return of the mysterious 50 million naira, finding only seven million remaining. At home, Shina endures attacks from three women—his legal wife Sade (Mide Martins), concubine Amaka (Liz Da Silva), and village bride Bose (Damilola Oni)—adding to the challenges that jeopardize his family’s stability.

The premise of Ololade treads familiar ground, as Old Nollywood has previously explored the themes of sudden wealth and its accompanying challenges in numerous classic films. In fact, a Nollywood classic by Ebun Oloyede’s Olaiya Films, titled Ololade Mr Money comes to mind as we dive into this new offering. The premise is familiar: man did rituals to become wealthy. What sets Ololade apart is its attempt to infuse a fresh perspective by marrying this idea of sudden wealth with New Nollywood sensationalities. However, this potential brilliance falls short due to execution issues.

In Ololade, events seem to unfold merely for the sake of existing, lacking a cohesive integration into the overall story structure. Things occur not because they seamlessly contribute to the overall narrative but rather out of necessity to propel the plot forward. For instance, Lateef’s decision to remain in his original house after burying Laide raises questions. Given his newfound wealth, he could have chosen to distance himself from the community and start anew, especially considering his concerns about potential police involvement. Yet, he inexplicably fails to take steps to safeguard himself, leading to illogical decisions that seem forced to drive the plot.

Frank Donga grapples with a curse of his own making in Ololade, where, being a comic stereotype causes his emotive scenes to often veer into the laughable. Whether this stems from directorial choices or intentional decisions, the actor’s predicament requires a nuanced delivery to engage the audience and evoke the emotions crucial to the character’s journey.In general, the performances in the film are average and fail to captivate, with the exception of Mide Martins. She manages to tone down the noise, as per her character’s requirements, and delivers the only compelling performance in the series. However, when submerged in the sea of other performances, it unfortunately gets overshadowed.

Clichés endure because they typically prove effective, yet in this series, there’s an unsettling feeling that even stereotypical characters—such as the loudmouth Bose, the troublesome mother-in-law, and the promiscuous village boy—fail to resonate. This raises a larger question about their contribution to the overall narrative and the value of their characters. In Ololade, it seems they exist solely for the sake of existing, lacking meaningful impact on the story.

Ololade grapples with a pacing issue, oscillating between scenes that are too swift and others that are too sloppy, leaving a bitter taste in the audience’s mouth.

Perhaps, as the saying goes, some things are better left unfixed, especially when it comes to a story that might not need a new angle. Ololade raises the question of whether its kind of stories should be left to  rest in the annals of Old Nollywood’s history without attempting a modern approach.