As a matter of fairness, I must begin by stating that I cannot yet offer a comprehensive review of the new Aníkúlápó. My viewing was incidental rather than deliberate; I caught portions of the series while my wife was finishing it late at night. It was not an intentional, critical screening. What follows, therefore, are preliminary observations rather than a definitive verdict. 

First, the production design deserves commendation. The art direction, costume detailing, and visual texture demonstrate an admirable commitment to recreating a believable pre-colonial Yoruba world. There is visible care in the aesthetic framing, and that effort should not go unnoticed. In terms of visual storytelling, the film sustains a richness that continues to position Kunle Afolayan as one of Nollywood’s most visually disciplined auteurs.

However, my primary reservation lies with the background score. The musical architecture appears to rely heavily on Western European harmonic traditions, upon which a Yoruba-styled flute motif is superimposed. While fusion in itself is not problematic, the integration here felt less organic and more layered—two aesthetic systems coexisting rather than conversing.

For a film rooted deeply in Yoruba cosmology, myth, and metaphysical philosophy, one would expect the sonic landscape to emerge from the same indigenous grammar as the narrative. Music in indigenous-language cinema is not ornamental; it is semiotic. It encodes ritual memory, spatial awareness, spirituality, and worldview. When the musical foundation does not fully align with the cultural universe being depicted, immersion can be subtly weakened.

This raises a broader professional issue. Film scoring is a specialized discipline distinct from post-production sound editing. While sound editors focus on clarity, balance, and synchronization, composers construct emotional architecture, thematic identity, and cultural resonance. The two roles intersect, but they are not interchangeable. Productions of this scale would benefit from deeper collaboration with scholars and composers grounded in indigenous sound systems and their representational depth.

Beyond aesthetics, there is the matter of public controversy. The recent tension reportedly involving Kunle Afolayan and Funke Akindele, alongside comments suggesting that the film is “meant for intellectuals,” introduces another layer to the conversation. If such statements were intended as marketing strategy, they may have misfired. Framing a film as exclusive to a supposedly elevated intellectual class risks diminishing the intelligence of Nollywood’s diverse and discerning audience. Viewers across social and educational backgrounds engage cinema thoughtfully; storytelling should not be weaponized as a badge of elitism.

It is also worth asking: what precisely constitutes the “high intellectual content” of Aníkúlápó 2? Mythological storytelling, while profound, is not inherently esoteric. Depth lies not in branding but in execution—narrative complexity, philosophical layering, and symbolic coherence.

If the controversies were indeed publicity-driven, a more strategic and professional marketing approach might have served the project better. Engaging a seasoned marketing agency to deploy data-driven audience segmentation—through digital analytics, targeted campaigns, and coordinated offline promotion—would likely have yielded broader engagement without courting unnecessary friction. Contemporary film marketing is a science as much as an art; precision often outperforms provocation.

Ultimately, filmmakers secure longevity not by insulating their work from critique but by engaging it. Constructive criticism remains a sine qua non for artistic growth. Those confident in their craft understand that scrutiny refines vision rather than diminishes it.

These reflections remain preliminary. A deliberate rewatch would allow for a fuller and more rigorous assessment. But even from this initial encounter, one thing is clear: when cinema seeks to represent indigenous worlds, its sound, strategy, and storytelling must move in harmonious alignment.

Osezua Stephen-Imobhio writes from Lagos