Name: Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre
Genre: Drama
Released: 2024-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

The opening scene of Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre is a striking tableau: Saro, his face etched with determination and dread, stands at the threshold between life and death, the spectral world shimmering behind him. It’s an image that promises a rich tapestry of myth and mortality, but the series quickly stumbles under the weight of its own ambition.

Kunle Afolayan’s sequel to the 2022 film Anikulapo picks up where the original left off, with Saro (Kunle Remi) now a messenger of death, tasked with reclaiming the souls he once resurrected. The premise is ripe with potential, blending African folklore and existential drama. The series’ strongest moments come when it leans into this mythic foundation, particularly in its depiction of the afterlife—a liminal space where the rules of the living world don’t apply. The production design here is evocative, with dramatic backdrops and traditional African attire grounding the supernatural elements in a tangible reality.

The series delves deep into themes of spiritual obligation and liminality, drawing on V.W. Turner’s theory of liminality to explore Saro’s journey between life and death. This thematic depth is one of the series’ standout qualities, offering a rich exploration of cultural and existential questions that set it apart from more conventional dramas.

However, Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre falters when it tries to do too much at once. The first episode seamlessly continues from the pilot, but as the series progresses, it introduces overcrowded plots and underdeveloped subplots that dilute its narrative focus. Saro’s journey is compelling, but his arc is often overshadowed by the introduction of new characters and tangential storylines that feel forced rather than organic. The series also struggles with pacing; moments of tension are undercut by scenes that meander without clear purpose.

The performances are a mixed bag. Kunle Remi as Saro carries the emotional weight of the series, his portrayal of a man burdened by guilt and obligation is nuanced and engaging. Remi’s physicality—his hunched shoulders, his wary gaze—conveys the weight of Saro’s task without needing to say much at all. Bimbo Ademoye’s return as Arolake adds depth to the story, her performance infusing the character with a mix of vulnerability and resolve that makes her a compelling counterpart to Saro.

Yet, other characters, such as those played by Sola Sobowale and Taiwo Hassan, feel one-dimensional. Sobowale’s role is reduced to a series of emotional outbursts rather than a fully realized character arc. Hassan, too, is underutilized, his potential wasted in subplots that lack the depth to sustain them. The supporting cast often serves as plot devices rather than fully realized individuals, which weakens the series’ emotional impact.

Where Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre excels is in its use of music. Teledalase’s evocative vocals create a captivating soundtrack that enhances the themes of resilience and self-discovery. The score elevates key scenes, adding an emotional resonance that the narrative sometimes lacks. The music serves as a guiding force, pulling the viewer through moments of tension and reflection, tying together the disparate elements of the story.

The series also benefits from its visual style, which blends traditional African aesthetics with dramatic backdrops to create a visually striking world. This attention to detail in production design helps to ground the supernatural elements in a tangible reality, making the mythic aspects of the story feel more immediate and relatable.

However, the direction sometimes feels uneven. Afolayan’s vision is clear in the series’ strongest moments, but there are instances where the pacing stumbles, and the narrative loses its way. The series would have benefited from a tighter focus on Saro’s journey, allowing his arc to develop more naturally without the distraction of underdeveloped subplots.

In comparison to the original film, Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre builds on the mythic foundation of its predecessor but struggles under the weight of its own ambition. The original film’s strength lay in its focused narrative and compelling central performance. While this sequel expands on that world, it does so at the cost of narrative coherence.

Ultimately, Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre is a flawed but intriguing follow-up to the original film. It builds on the mythic foundation of its predecessor but struggles under the weight of its own ambition. The series’ best moments are its most mythic ones—when it leans into the liminality of death and the supernatural, it feels truly alive. For fans of African folklore and existential drama, there is much to appreciate here, even if the execution is not always flawless.

This series is for viewers who enjoy deep dives into cultural mythology and are willing to overlook some narrative inconsistencies for the sake of thematic richness.