In “Fine Girl” An Unsettling Meetcute Takes A Strange Turn

From Lagos to Cairo, women of all ages and walks of life can relate to the inescapable experience of unwanted male attention. The image that usually comes to mind when we think of harassment is that of the unfamiliar, unpolished man on the street. But even charismatic men are equal transgressors. These men weaponize a perceived illusion of safety to approach and eventually harass unsuspecting women without fear of reprisal. 

A similar experience I had a decade ago with a man in Ilorin started with a seemingly harmless “Salam alaikum” and ended in objectification. In my defence, the Islamic greeting lowered my guard because certainly, you wouldn’t act inappropriately after invoking God’s peace upon someone. With a confident and leering smile, he christened me “Alhaja toh ta lenu” and proceeded to attempt playing out his twisted version of a meet-cute, where the charming rascal relentlessly pursued the fierce lady until she melted from his charms. 

 The opening scene of Fatimah Binta Gimsay’s latest short, Fine Girl took me to that moment. Watching the two (very attractive) leads interact for the first time, evoked the feelings of curiosity and eventual discomfort I felt during interaction with my Ilorin catcaller. 

From real-life experiences to motion pictures, I am no stranger to the complexities of navigating life as a woman. Every interaction with an unfamiliar man, and in many cases, known men could result in a shocking headline or cringe-worthy dinner party story at best. Some of these have been featured in stories, which have frankly been androcentric, especially in Nollywood where art astutely imitates patriarchal values. Even supposedly female-led rom-coms have struggled to decenter the male perspective and fallen into the trap of reinforcing stereotypes. 

Fine Girl flips the meet-cute cliche on its head and shows the experience from both perspectives. Is it a meet-cute if you invade someone’s privacy and refuse to accept rejection? Was it a romantic interaction reminiscent of fairy tales or relentless, aggressive attention from a handsome man? The film focuses initially on Nosa (Obehi Aburime), an attractive, seemingly harmless man who attempts to charm a stranger in the estate. 

At first glance, Nosa appears to be a love-struck gentleman taking pictures of a love interest posing for the camera. He’s playful and almost contrite when caught in the non-consensual act of photographing Fine Girl in the estate, his charm emboldening him to carry out a mating dance on the street without fear of reprisal. Adopting a condescending tone feigned as complimentary, he throws the titular line “Fine Gir” at the female lead when she attempts to set a boundary. 

Taking inspiration from old Nollywood movies like Karishika and Nneka the Pretty Serpent, the short film takes a supernatural turn at the turning point. We never get to know the Fine Girl, portrayed by Martha Orhiere intimately, she remains a mysterious stranger by the film’s end – which might be an intentional choice on Gimsay’s part to demonstrate how most women want to be – strangers minding their business. 

We also get to observe the role phones and the internet play in privacy invasion and the broad expanse of the consent spectrum. The proliferation of incel culture on the internet, no thanks to Elon Musk’s X,) has transformed mobile phones from addictive pesky devices to weapons used to harm women. Today, with just a click, women can become fodder for harassment on incel Telegram groups or objectification for perverts with a private repository. We find out quickly about Nosa’s unsettling habit of photographing women without their consent, which eventually becomes his undoing. 

Fine Girl might be too clean for horror fiends as it steers away from gore, jumpscares and shock. Instead, we see a scene reminiscent of Zoe Kravitz’s Blink Twice, where the women performed sensuality to beguile their aggressors. There’s no blood, in fact, the clapback happens very slowly and quietly. It’s not as terrifying as I would’ve liked but it was a satisfying ending. 

While the short didn’t resort to shock to make a statement, it dared you to fuck around and find out what happened when you invaded someone’s privacy or involved the wrong person in your shit. With a bigger budget, Fine Girl could’ve effectively executed the horror effects, but the actors did their best to carry and deliver those scenes. 

I wished it was longer so I could learn more about the titular Fine Girl’s backstory but that’s what makes short films great! The possibilities are endless.