I have spent the last 12 hours watching Mo Abudu’s latest offering on Netflix. I find Netflix quite boring as I often glean through the offerings looking for something to attract my attention.
Once in a while, something like Anatomy of a Scandal or Bridgeton will catch my interest, and I will be glued. But none of the Nigerian offerings ever attracted my attention.
Then I caught a younger friend watching Blood Sisters on her phone, and I asked why she was so entrapped. At 26, working as an investment banker and getting carried away at work with Blood Sisters, I made it a point of note to see it when I got home.
The series is so beautiful in its lack of originality that I began to stare in amazement. It’s so brilliantly put together that you must begin to see the high amount of creative energy that must have gone through its production.
The casting, the layout, and the depth of the storyline. Its intriguing fluidity is enmeshed in the suspense that has been designed to capitulate and keep you glued to the screen. Its aim is achieved as you fly into the world of the Ademolas.
As you watch, you realize you are watching so many American movies in this Nigerian series. I saw Dynasty, Starsky and Hutch, Hawaii 5.0, and so many other international films and TV series blatantly copied in mannerisms, plots, and lines.
But you are willing to forgive because its beauty makes you realize that it must have taken a crop of geniuses to have meshed so many plots and caricatures into this bewitchingly exciting story.
Kate Henshaw was perfect as the wooden matriarch. At first, I was afraid she would not be able to carry the role. Her initial shaky performance gave way to a perfectly blended outpouring. I loved her.
But I asked what Keppy was doing there. Cementing stereotypes is not my thing. So, the Igbo man must always be a trader and be eager for money. Keppy was miscast; he didn’t carry it well, while Uche was brilliantly stiff.
It wasn’t her comfort zone, but she did well.
The two lead ladies were near perfect. Ohh, I loved them. Although Kemi was initially stiff, she relaxed later and gave an Oscar-winning performance.
You know, I have a crush on the second lady. She can do no wrong. When Kola was strangling her, I felt like jumping in and blowing her head off.
Her beauty, her carriage, and her striking resemblance to my daughter, Annette, made me position her as my star.
The hitman sent to kill Kola in the initial scene was the worst in the series. I cannot lie; I didn’t understand all that frowning and doing alagbara all over the place. Last but not least, he could not even fight. They ate butter. Although mad, Kola was able to beat him up with bare hands. Na wa for this director, o.
My main complaint was that they didn’t give us enough Kola. Kola was my Denzel Washington in that movie. His looks, charisma, and technique were killing.
He carried the role well. He was perfect, and kudos to the casting director, but he was killed too early. He was left with a huge vacuum as his best man, despite his strong talent not being able to fill it.
The jokers in the pack were Arinze and the Chicago policeman. Arinze is still looking rough and he came with the old Nollywood acting style. This is not Ichokwu, this is Netflix. All that growling and opening of big eyes won’t work again.
Chicago had watched too many American cop movies that he confused himself. He wasn’t sure who he was, whether Will Smith in Bad Boys, Brad Pitt, or Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop. He just tried to carry all of them together and came up as the weakest link in the movie.
Ramsey, Noah, you exhaust me. The strong silent type popularized by Kevin Costner in the bodyguard for Whitney Houston’s character did not work. much effort. He wasn’t fluid, wasn’t free, and carried a certain tension that reduced his usual sterling performances.
I loved the sexual energy of the second son’s wife. She killed her role as the tempting but ambitious vixen. Her hubby, the bumbling pretender to the throne, was perfect, and their sexual chemistry turned me on.
The part where the cameraman showed us a wiff of her red pants as they struggled to make love was magic. A copy, but still magic.
The director killed me with the bathing and fighting scenes in the rehab. Come and see beautiful, robustly natural naked sisters in that scene. These were real naked African bodies with all the flaws you can imagine-big tummies, droopy breasts, and huge thighs; it was beautiful. I loved it and kept going back to it. Mad
I loved the story. I loved the way it was told and despite the fact that I saw almost 12 movies in Blood Sister, I still enjoyed myself. How else would you explain me not leaving for work this early because of Blood Sister?
So, has Mo Abudu won my respect? I will say she is almost there. This was a brilliant effort, and I must congratulate her for her tenacity and hard work in pulling a great team together.
Blood Sisters is a must-watch, and I give it 4 stars. Well done Aunty
The Duke of Shomolu