The Great Nigerian Films, No. 3: Mami Wata Review

PG-15, 107 m., 2023. Starring Evelyne Ily, Uzoamaka Aniunoh, Kelechi Udegbe, Emeka Amakeze. Written and directed by C.J. Obasi. Produced by Oge Obasi and C.J.

C.J. “Fiery” Obasi grew up on horror films and Stephen King’s novels.

This is why we wouldn't be surprised about how he made his debut film Ojuju (2014), ranked 11th on IndieWire list of best zombie films of all time, the way he did. And why, three years later, he co-founded Surreal16, a self-descriptive film collective. Obasi's arthouse genre films are stylized and surreal and his vision is fresh. He's an auteur.

Mami Wata (2023) is a folklore. The Pidgin- and Fon-speaking people of the West African seaside village, Iyi, are devotees of Mami Wata, a water deity. But at the coming of a virus they face a crisis of faith as chaos breaks out. It is a profile of an ordinary people facing extraordinary times. A co-production of France, Nigeria and the UK, the film premiered at Sundance and has racked up nominations and awards from the Indie Awards, NAACP and FESPACO.

This is Obasi's third feature and his most minimalist yet. (He cites Akira Kurosawa as an influence for the project.) His second feature O-Town, a crime gangster, is considered ambitious but self-indulgent. But he finds a balance here. C.J. is less fiery on this one. He satisfies his sensibilities without estranging his audience, luring them into his hypnotic vision as gently as he could. The result is a ravishing film that is as artistic as entertaining.

But he's all over the film. Look at the sea attempting to roll into the camera and flood the screen. Those stubborn rolls of water at once invoke both Chris Marker (Sans Soleill) and Samuel Taylor Coleridge (“The Rime of the Ancient Mariners”). See the close-up shots of women on breath-taking hairdos. That’s a feel of J.D. Ojeikere at his most evocative. After all great movies are about their directors. Every scene is a description of how they look at life. C.J. looks at life in a most artistic manner.

C.J.’s film is tasteful, his vision is vivid and his cues are exact. Something like Prisca's boot-cut pants makes us feel like we've known we'll see her use a sewing machine all along. Someone says: “You know say I dey scream.” Rich in subtext, that line preps us for a future cheating. And the tobacco pipe Jabi offers Jasper feels like a homage to Ousman Sembène, the father of African cinema. The monochrome palette and the laid-back tension of the first two-third of the film reminds one of Sembène's Black Girl (1966) after all.

Mami Water script is one thing that elevates C.J.’s material into a parable. Especially of religion and politics. And remember this is Africa. At a point a white guy supplies guns in a truck to Jasper, a former rebel. That feels like colonialism all over again. But C.J. is also empathetic. His characters are people whose desires are clear, pure and dirty. And look at the humour. The script allows for dark but sorry comic relief. Once, Jabi quips: “I no dey fear woman. Make you ask di one wey dey for ground too.” Di one wey dey for ground is dead. LOL. But the joke is on Jabi. We wish, if for a second, that he fears women. And that's something about this film. The film is dark, almost grisly. But C.J. is smart. He allows for Lìlis Soares’ cinematography to pierce through the dark tone and give us one that is mystical.

Tunde Jegede's score is sensuous and haunting. Not repeating the tension on screen, he echoes and extends the story. Take the brief succession of notes that plays now and again: DUM ta DUM tatata. Such motive best foretells the transition from drama to action and action to fantasy. And Soares’ high-contrasted cinematography, in the style of South African photographer Santu Mofokeng, pushes the film into the realm of dreams. Ivorian Evelyn Ily, who plays Prisca, is sensitive, too. Little acts like the length of a breath or the curls of a lip advance the story and reveal her person.

Mami Wata is fantasy, thriller, drama, action, etc., etc. The genre I insist on is: classic. And for classics it's not about the tag but the stuff. For Mami Wata that stuff is in part how it illuminates the way the dirtiest of our desires can become sacred and our purest profane. What’s more? That wisdom is spoken in black and white yet nothing about the film is black or white. Here is a folklore that is mysterious but not cryptic. Like the deepest of African proverbs.

The Great Nigerian Films (TGNF) are a collection of my favourite Nigerian movies. My criterion is the quality of a film. But I'm likely to pick a so-so film that is vital to film development and studies in the country. These films are a primer and a companion to Nollywood. And this is a work of documenting and archiving.