Kunle Afolayan is a progressive auteur and tastemaker in the Nigerian film industry.
With a decent catalogue of films to his name, the child actor and son of film doyen Ade Love, has come a long way since playing Aresejabata in Tunde Kelani’s magnum opus, Saworoide to being one of the most loved film-makers. No serious list of top Nigerian directors can snub him.
Since his first feature film, Irapada, Yoruba has not been used in his feature films. Mokalik, Kunle Afolayan’s latest feature film, harks back to the use of his native language, Yoruba to a more exhaustive use. In fact, the film’s title, Mokalik is a colloquial corruption of the English word, Mechanic, in Yoruba.
Mokalik follows Ponmile, an 11-year-old middle-class boy, through his one-day excursion to a mechanic village, a working class co-working space of artisans who deal with automobiles in a Lagos mainland neighbourhood.
Ponmile’s poor school grades prompt his father to offer him a different kind of exposure from classroom learning, a stint in the informal education of apprenticeship. Ponmile’s internship takes us through brief lectures with auto-mechanics, car electricians and painters in turn.
The film unfurls through his young gaze, the camera lens lazing around him, in what seems to be largely a documentary type film with a rather hazy plot, posing as a light-hearted comedy about working class minions.
Afolayan’s interest is to exploit the mundanities of a mechanic workshop, capturing the intrigues and minutiae of their daily existence. Power relations between master and apprentice come to play and also how apprentices of different disciplines interact within the purview of friendship and workplace mores. Ultimately, it is a comedy about workplace interaction within an informal sector but it fails to sufficiently humanise these spaces.
In truth, colourful characters abound but dutiful exploration is near impossible given the sheer number of the cast, a wall-clock sense of timing and storytelling technique handicaps.
However, Molalik strives for flair and the competent interpretations from actors of the Yoruba Nollywood ilk is a triumph.
Dayo Akinpelu, Fathia Williams, Ayo Adesanya, Olayiwola Razaq are all resplendent on screen. Damilola Ogunsi, plays Obama, whose brief stint in America during Obama’s regime was terminated by Trump’s win, is particularly hilarious with his code-switching and American-speak.
Singer Simi Ogunleye, in her first acting gig, becomes more graceful as her time on screen increases. Of course, there are instances of over-acting but hardly does any character throw the film into the deep reaches of melodrama. Perhaps the film’s revelation is Tooni Afolayan who plays, rather remarkably, a muted boy of bourgeoisie leaning. He is perceptive and methodical in his character interpretation, contemplative in a manner that belies his age.
If Mokalik is largely plotless, it will be preposterous to demand a fine arc of a subplot which the film uncannily possesses.
From the opening scene to denouement, the film monitors the flight schedule of airplanes traipsing the Lagos skies, a masterful advert placement, which reflects the director’s business acumen.
But this poorly serves the film which lapses into the stasis of dour dialogue, hardly reaching for the magical moments mired in the mundane.
In lieu of a major conflict or an energetic narrator, the movie ambles helplessly after an inquisitive child in an automobile palace; little wonder, filming activities of the sky becomes a necessary aside.
Technical aspects like cinematography, set and costume design, lighting and continuity are on point. Perhaps the soundtrack and choice of music could have benefited from a more indigenous touch. As always, Afolayan gets every aspect of the film right except story and direction.
The film may have benefited from a different point of view. By relying on the perceptions of an 11-year-old boy, the film dismisses nuance and a keen interrogation of a working class workplace for fleeting arousal and humour.
Sadly, Mokalik joins the slew of mediocre efforts from Kunle Afolayan, who is hitting mid career with formulaic competence instead of roaring ambition, dashing the promise of a film-maker with a staggering heritage and ancestry in his chosen line of trade.