Introduction: When Redemption Runs for 150 Minutes
Nollywood is a cinema of maximalism, and few films embody this principle quite like the sprawling two-and-a-half-hour family drama, 'Color of Life'. Marketed as a searing look at privilege, public shaming, and second chances, the film attempts to weave together high-stakes corporate espionage, a debilitating health crisis, and a deeply personal journey of atonement. It’s an audacious swing by director Ikenna Obi, a narrative tapestry so complex it often threatens to unravel in your hands. Does it ultimately stick the landing, or does its ambition crumble under the weight of its own running time? The answer, like the film itself, is complicated, uneven, and utterly engrossing.
This review cuts through the melodrama to analyze whether the dramatic high points justify the structural compromises. We must ask: Is Color of Life a bloated soap opera dressed in high production values, or a genuinely resonant piece of societal commentary?
1. Narrative Structure and Pacing: The 2+ Hour Challenge
The primary structural flaw of Color of Life is its near-fatal commitment to its 2-hour+ runtime. While the film contains enough plot for a six-part miniseries, its cinematic execution feels unnecessarily bloated. The core dramatic engine—the rapid, destructive fall of the protagonist, Jena—is constantly slowed down by ancillary subplots that, while thematically relevant, disrupt the critical momentum.
The initial setup, establishing Jena's entitled, non-committal relationship with Sophia and his reckless squandering of his mother’s wealth, is crisp and effective. However, the inciting incident that triggers the crisis—the fateful decision to lace a house help's drink—suffers from poor narrative convenience. The motivation feels less like a spontaneous act of malice and more like a necessary (but clumsy) plot mechanism designed solely to catapult Jena into the public eye. Nollywood frequently relies on these ‘necessary evils’ to drive drama, but here, the lack of seamless transition from simple entitlement to criminal recklessness jars the viewer.
The film spends its middle third juggling four major conflicts: Vivian’s plummeting business fortunes, her sudden stress-induced physical breakdown, Jena’s social media pariah status, and the slow, drawn-out revelation of Glory’s backstory and daily struggles at the market. Individually, these arcs have merit. Collectively, they create a dizzying pace where no single event is allowed to breathe. Just as we become invested in Vivian’s feverish crisis in the hospital, we are whisked back to the market for a lengthy, if beautifully shot, sequence detailing Glory's tenacity.
The convergence of Jena and Glory in the third act—the entitled son needing salvation from the very class he despises—is the film’s strongest structural decision. It delivers the payoff the audience craves. However, the path there is paved with narrative fat, confirming that the extended runtime was, regrettably, not justified. A tighter, 100-minute edit that prioritized the Jena/Glory dynamic over the corporate subplots would have elevated the film from an interesting dramatic effort to a masterpiece of pacing.
2. Character Development and Motivation
Color of Life centers entirely on the arc of Jena (played by Chike Daniels), the privileged heir whose life implodes. His journey is the familiar Prodigal Son Arc, yet the film struggles with the believability of his transformation. His shift from reckless spendthrift to genuinely repentant, humble man feels less organic and more mandated by the script. We see the consequences of his fall (sleeping on the street, manual labor), but the profound internal shift—the moment of true self-realization—is montage-driven and consequently, too sudden. The script gives us the what (he changed) but neglects the how (the detailed psychological struggle). Daniels is tasked with selling this implausible change, and his sheer emotional force almost convinces us.
In stark contrast stands Glory (Thelma Chukwunwem), the moral anchor and the personification of the working class. Glory is undoubtedly the emotional powerhouse of the film, but her characterization is disappointingly thin. She exists primarily as a dramatic device: she is the victim, the symbol of resilience, the catalyst for Jena’s redemption, and the embodiment of the purity he forfeited. She possesses virtue and hard work in abundance, but lacks the complex flaws that would make her fully realized. She is a saintly figure dropped into the urban jungle to teach the rich a lesson, which, while powerful, limits her as a character.
The true standout of character believability is Vivian, the matriarch. Her struggle is perhaps the most nuanced. Her protective instincts, born from a desire to preserve the family name, lead her to excuse and enable Jena's destructive behavior. Her physical breakdown is a perfect dramatic metaphor for the heavy cost of maintaining a public legacy at the expense of private morality. The performance, particularly the subtle trembling and moments of lucidity during her illness, grounds the high-stakes plot in human frailty, making her recovery feel earned rather than convenient. Her character represents the painful reality that protecting power often leads to self-destruction.
3. Thematic Resonance and Societal Commentary
The film tackles three weighty, critical Nollywood themes: Redemption, Classism, and Justice, achieving mixed success in their exploration.
The theme of Classism is Color of Life's greatest triumph. The visual and narrative contrast between Vivian’s opulent, sterile, glass-walled office and Glory’s chaotic, vibrant, and fiercely competitive market stall is masterfully done. The film doesn't just tell us about class disparity; it submerges us in it. Jena’s shock when he is forced to live and work among those he once scorned is palpable, offering a potent, if somewhat didactic, commentary on the vast social gulf in Nigerian society. The film’s most successful scene is not an explosion of drama, but a quiet moment where Jena fumbles a market transaction, realizing the dignity and skill required for the work he previously dismissed.
The theme of Justice—specifically public justice via social media—is handled with less sophistication. The initial scandal surrounding the laced drink goes viral, bringing about immediate, brutal financial and reputational ruin. While the film correctly illustrates the speed and ruthlessness of online judgment, it largely uses the viral video as a plot starter rather than exploring the complexity of digital ethics. It’s a tool for narrative escalation, ultimately suggesting that public shaming, though painful, is a necessary evil that precipitates the final redemption. This approach risks trivializing the serious issues of online mob justice.
Ultimately, the film's message is the power of Redemption—that a second chance is always possible, but only after genuine suffering and acceptance of one's misdeeds. The film insists that Jena's financial ruin and physical discomfort are necessary steps in shedding his moral toxicity. While moving, the conclusion—where the rich son and the poor woman find a kind of spiritual harmony—feels slightly too neat, suggesting that the problems of deep-seated classism can be resolved by one man’s personal change, rather than systemic overhaul.
4. Performance and Direction
The emotional core of Color of Life is held together by the powerhouse performances of Chike Daniels (Jena) and especially Thelma Chukwunwem (Glory).
Daniels handles the demanding shift in Jena’s character with commendable energy. His early scenes of arrogance are genuinely infuriating, and he manages the physical toll of his downfall convincingly. However, it is Thelma Chukwunwem who truly anchors the picture. As Glory, her silent scenes—the quiet determination in the market, the weary acceptance of hardship—speak volumes more than the film’s sometimes heavy-handed dialogue. Her presence radiates authenticity, providing a much-needed counterweight to the theatricality of the elite world. The scene where she confronts Jena, not with rage, but with profound disappointment, is a masterclass in controlled emotional intensity.
Ikenna Obi's direction, typical of a certain school of Nollywood drama, is visually striking but often prone to overly melodramatic choices. The emotional climaxes, such as Vivian’s illness and Jena’s hospital bedside apology, are staged for maximum emotional impact, complete with swelling orchestral music and close-ups that linger just a moment too long. While effective in drawing tears, this approach often sacrifices nuance for immediate emotional catharsis. The use of music, particularly, is heavy-handed, frequently preempting the audience’s emotional reaction instead of allowing the performance and narrative to generate it naturally. Obi has a clear vision, but sometimes confuses volume with depth.
5. Technical Execution and Production Value
In terms of pure technical execution, Color of Life stands firmly within the "New Nollywood" bracket, displaying generally high production value. The set design is excellent, particularly the contrastive spaces of wealth and poverty, where attention is paid to detail—from the polished marble of Vivian’s home to the intricate clutter of Glory’s market stall. The costuming effectively signals class and psychological state, especially Jena’s transition from immaculate designer suits to threadbare, dusty clothes.
However, the film stumbles slightly on the editing and transitions. Given the multiplicity of subplots, smooth editing was essential, but the jump cuts between the hospital, the corporate office, and the market often feel jarring. These transitions fail to fully integrate the narrative threads, contributing to the overall sense of length and disjointedness that plagues the pacing. The sound mixing, thankfully, avoids the common pitfall of overpowering dialogue, allowing the actors’ nuanced deliveries to remain front and center. While polished, the technical work is not revolutionary; it is competent but fails to overcome the structural issues inherent in the script.
Conclusion: A Dramatic, Flawed Must-Watch
Color of Life is an aggressively ambitious film that attempts to do too much with its story, resulting in a runtime that tests the audience’s patience. It is a work of flawed grandeur, where clumsy plot devices and melodramatic direction clash with genuinely powerful thematic explorations of class and redemption.
However, the film’s social commentary is potent, and the committed performances by Chike Daniels and, especially, the breathtaking emotional honesty of Thelma Chukwunwem elevate the material above its structural failings. Despite its overstuffed script, the sheer energy and emotional force of its third-act redemption make it impossible to dismiss. It’s an essential watch for anyone charting the dramatic evolution of Nollywood, a testament to what can be achieved when actors are given high-stakes material, even if the pacing is broken.
Here’s a draft to get you started, complete with a rating. Let me know if you’d like to dive deeper on Jena's psychological shift or explore a different direction for Glory's portrayal!
My Rating: .............. (3/5 Stars)
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