Chuko and Ari Esiri’s Eyimofe, which is competing at Fespaco, combines two semi-overlapping stories of Nigerians on the edge. The first story is titled Spain, the second Italy. The idea in both titles is destination. In both stories, the Nigerian characters have come to believe that another life, one of happiness and devoid of material lack, is only possible elsewhere. Both stories owe their aesthetic as much to cinema as to literature. Watching the story enfold, I was reminded of the mood pervading some stories by the late Jewish master Bernard Malamud.
In Spain, a Lagos-based engineer working at a printing press plans to go to Europe as he works his long Lagos hours. In one day, he loses his small family, consisting of his sister and kids, to generator fumes. His life is then split in three parts. One attempts to give his late relatives the burial they deserve. Another tries to do his job despite his increasing frustrations with some late-arriving junction boxes. The rest of his waking hours (and maybe even his dreams) are devoted to escape. He has to manage all of these in a dignified manner. In one scene, as he speaks to his family away from Lagos, informing them of the deaths, he begins to cry but even so, he is restrained. Whatever pains he may be feeling are evident only on his face, which is a monument to an ineffable mix between expressivity and repression. In casting Jude Akuwudike as Mofe, the film was already certain to be impressive. Akuwudike’s face is by itself an extremely effective visual effect.
In Italy, a country that should evoke both departure and transactional fornication for viewers familiar with Nigeria’s human traffic history, a young woman named Rosa looks for a path to Europe with her younger sister. Their would-be benefactress (comedian Chioma Omeruah in a surprisingly restrained role) wants the younger sister’s baby in exchange for making their dreams come true. There is probably nothing legal about any terms of their agreement but there is nothing comical about their lives either. The only thing in the air for Rosa in Nigeria is desperation. Soon enough she meets and dates a white man who is generous but is then taken to task by his friends for his gullibility. It doesn’t matter that Rosa isn’t playing him for a fool, given the depth of her lack—but her well-off compatriots see her as merely fraudulent.
That subplot is one of the ways Eyimofe probes the distance between the Nigerian wealthy and the Nigerian poor—a distance so wide each group could and really should be speaking different languages. In practical terms, Rosa’s fellow Nigerians who happen to be wealthy are much less dissimilar to Rosa than to the white man. Indeed, the rich are different from you and me.
In a couple of instances, the stories intersect and in one case there is a direct interaction between the movies. The directors handle everything with certitude, care, and gorgeously understated aplomb. The camerawork by Arseni Khachaturan is never intrusive even in its mobility. And by the time the film reaches its end, the characters, as written by Chuko Esiri, have experienced the devastation that is inevitable in the troughs of poverty and have altered their dreams. It is a bit unsettling to see that this granular exploration of Nigerian poverty is by the Esiri brothers who are themselves from exceptionally wealthy Nigerian stock. The politics at play behind this may be voyeuristic but they have accorded the poor a superb dignity. And there can be no real objections about the film they have made. Subtle as it is, Eyimofe is impressive from its opening shot to its last lines.
Directors: Chuko Esiri, Arie Esiri
Screenwriters: Chuko Esiri
Cast: Jude Akuwudike, Temi Ami-Williams, Cynthia Ebije, Chioma Omeruah, Toyin Oshinaike
Producers: Melissa O. Adeyemo, Chuko Esiri, Arie Esiri
Executive producers: Kayode Akindele, Albert Esiri, Ifeoma Esiri, Christopher Ibru, Maiden Alex Ibru, Olorogun Oskar Ibru, Toke Alex Ibru, Salman Zoueihed
Cinematography: Arseni Khachaturan
Production designer: Taisa Malouf
Costume design: Daniel Obasi
Editing: Andrew Stephen Lee
Music: Akin Adebowale
Production companies: GDN Studios (Nigeria)
Runtime: 116 minutes
