[blockquote align=”centre” author=”EfikoScore: 6/10″ style=”font-size: 30px”] Dolapo Adigun’s thriller casts judgment on its characters from the start, marring everything that follows. [/blockquote]
It is a hectic day at Greenleaf Hospital where Amara Nwachukwu is head doctor. A truckload of accident victims has arrived, a pregnant woman among them, when, suddenly, an armed gang bursts in with an injured man. A man named Uzor leads the gang. His brother has been shot; he says it was a case of police brutality. Thus begins Criminal‘s clash of wills, as Uzor battles with the doctors over which case is more important.
Two things are immediately eye-catching about this film. Greenleaf Hospital looks awesome. Surfaces shine, their colours popping. But one would have to decide if this is because the staff keep the place spic and span or because the hospital’s amenities have never been used.
There is also an ever-present sense that a lot of research has gone into the medical terminologies and procedures employed in this film. Sometimes, the researched information is unnecessarily thrown into dialogue. Other times, the researched material provides no new information. Yet, this evidence of research is commendable for Nollywood, an industry plagued with shoddy representations of the medical profession.
As Uzor, the titular criminal, Uzor Arukwe is irascible, always a breath away from pulling the trigger or punching someone. His anger makes it difficult to root for this man. But Uzor, the actor, is charismatic. He knows how to command the camera and bend it to his will as he flits from one emotion to another.
Funlola Aofiyebi stands opposite him as the unyielding Dr. Amara Nwachukwu. She is intent on keeping things in control and under her charge. Does she provide an equal force against Uzor’s heedless charge? Yes, she does. When the doctor scowls as she makes her way to face the criminals, you can tell they are in some trouble. The problem is her bullheadedness in the face of trigger-happy foes is inappropriate for someone in her profession. Is standing one’s ground against a madman really worth it when they’re holding a gun to the head of a child? Criminal‘s screenwriter, Niyi Akinmolayan, appears to think so.
There is a surprising lack of humaneness in the film’s writing and portrayals. [Spoiler alert!] Where one expects an exploration of the demons of characters like Uzor, one is gifted instead with several instances of needless cruelty. Indeed, there is a parting shot that suggests that the film’s central dilemma is needless, which means the film is saying that some lives aren’t worth saving even with the resources to do so.
Contrast that idea with Criminal‘s treatment of the Nigerian police. That officers in this film appear a tad more competent than their real-life counterparts is well within the bounds of fiction. We all love John McClane. But do we really need the idea that miscreants sometimes take advantage of the charge of police brutality in a post-ENDSARs world?
There is no saving grace, either, in the more rudimentary aspects of plot and action.
At every chance, we are reminded that the gang is made up of bloodthirsty deviants. Yet, in crucial moments, the film’s characters appear to forget. What right-thinking officer with the available means foregoes the neutralisation of dangerous criminals, opting instead for something with lesser stakes? Why does Dr. Nwachukwu, after locking Uzor in, stand there, dangling the key in his face?
But perhaps the film’s most ridiculous action and yet its most lifelike sees a taskforce of the Nigerian police watch a drugged criminal stagger for minutes, without moving to restrain him or rid him of his weapon. They wait instead till he’s well out in public view to do something drastic.
Criminal, as the directorial debut of an alumnus of Akinmolayan’s Anthill Production’s filmmaking training, shows there’s room for growth for the newcomer. But the film’s story department, chaired by Akinmolayan himself, leaves an awful lot to be desired.
