“Lísàbí: A Legend Is Born” Feels Like A Dawdling Effort

Stories that are based on cultural history will always find an audience. For sheer nostalgia or a sense of belonging, the modern world craves a place in the past; and that’s always achievable through ties with historical film productions. Both parts of Lísàbí pay their dues to the historical figure, a leader that is crucial to the emancipation of 18th-century Egbaland from the overbearing Oyo Empire. In my review of Lísàbí: The Uprising, I describe the film as “an evocative work of art hewn from the fabric of history”, praising the filmmaker for seamlessly straddling fact and fiction to project the image of one of the most influential figures in Yoruba civilization.

In A Legend is Born, Lisabi leads his people against the ferocious Oyo Army led by Aronimoja (Deyemi Okanlawon), recording painful loses on his side but emerging victorious after receiving help from Ikeola and a group of witches. The success of his liberation struggles brings him respect and honor from Egbaland, but some of his colleagues become jealous to the point of orchestrating his downfall.

Lateef Adedimeji returns as the lead actor in Lísàbí: A Legend Is Born, living out the full-scale belligerence, resilience, mystical destiny and uneventful end of Lisabi. The story maintains a simple, logical sequence and, against the backdrop of Tolu Obanro’s score, the occasional use of flashbacks to bring back emotional moments from the previous part of the two-piece production. From The Uprising, we remember Lisabi’s emotional reaction to Osokenu’s death. There are equivalents in A Legend Is Born, such as Lisabi’s response to Ikeola’s demise and his final departure speech. Adedimeji’s interpretation of the character is the second appreciable thing about A Legend Is Born, after its resource.

That aside, there are no surprises, twists or sublime additions in A Legend Is Born. As such, nothing—in terms of production values—really sets it apart from the prequel and other Yoruba epics we have recently seen. While it adds to the growing material on culture, the film mostly feels like a burden with its slow pace and some noticeable flaws. It is apparent from the outset that there is not much to tell, following the killing of the Ilari head (Ibahim Chatta). Most of the war preparations and fight scenes appear deliberately prolonged to accommodate time, and that’s simply because the rest of the story itself is lean. The infusion of clips from The Uprising, disguised as flashes of memory, also come off as a time-wasting strategy. It would simply have been preferable to have both parts of the Lísàbí production as one.

Then, the acting and delivery of certain actors are below par. We have Olumide Oworu who portrays Bejide, an Egba youth but struggles with the dialect or any local Yoruba equivalent his character aims for. There’s Bimbo Akintola who, while playing the biological mother to the young, endangered Lisabi, exposes painted nails—giving her character the appearance of a modern woman. In the same scene where the mother is dying, Baby Lisabi has pampers on. Surely, for an 18th-century setting, this is inappropriate.

Let’s also consider how certain characters and parts of the story are left underdeveloped, raising questions. One is the Alaafin having to examine the corpses of the slain Ilari. It is common knowledge that Yoruba kings aren’t supposed to stare at corpses. But the film blatantly disregards this. Also, the Alaafin, a first-class king in Yoruba society should often be seen in the company of other chiefs who provide counsel. However, in the film, there is no reference to these chiefs in the decision-making affairs of the monarch. The filmmaker misses out on exploring the identity of Lisabi’s mother and the purpose for her escape before her terrible fate. We also don’t know how Lisabi was trained into adulthood by the otherworldly creatures that adopted him and how he migrated to Egbaland where he became a successful farmer. A little more detail about Lisabi’s roots and development would have spiced up the story.

The Niyi Akinmolayan-directed film makes a lax and laid-back effort towards standing out, so it barely creates any notable impression. Considering the recent trend of Yoruba epic films on the big screens (Lísàbí: The Uprising, House of Ga’a, Seven Doors, Beasts of Two Worlds, Jagun Jagun, etc., A Legend is Born appears business-as-usual with its focus on visual and auditory aesthetics at the expense of narrative depth. The storyline appears one-dimensional and mundane, with the filmmaker underestimating the opportunity to better contextualize Lisabi’s formative years and the politics of the times.