"Rise Again": Blessing Obasi TV's Tense Tech Drama That Barely Rises Above Nollywood Tropes - Simply Entertainment Reports and Trending Stories

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Sunday, January 11, 2026

"Rise Again": Blessing Obasi TV's Tense Tech Drama That Barely Rises Above Nollywood Tropes

 

"Rise Again": Blessing Obasi TV's Tense Tech Drama That Barely Rises Above Nollywood Tropes


The Scars That Bind: A Review of Stan Nze and Blessing Obasi’s "RISE AGAIN"


#NollywoodReview #RiseAgainMovie #StanNze #NigerianCinema2026


Overall Rating: ............ (4/5 Stars)



Rise Again, the latest 2026 offering from Blessing Obasi TV, drops us into the high-stakes world of a Lagos tech startup where emotional walls clash with code deadlines. Clocking in at 1 hour 50 minutes, this film promises a fresh take on mental health and vulnerability but stumbles through familiar Nollywood pitfalls. As a Nollywood veteran who's covered everything from Asaba epics to streaming gems, here's why it sparks debate but doesn't fully deliver.

Nollywood has long been criticized for leaning too heavily on the "glamour" of Lekki penthouses or the repetitive tropes of village witchcraft. However, every once in a while, a film comes along that strips away the lace wigs and the flashy cars to look at the pulsating, often painful, heart of the Nigerian condition. Rise Again (2026), starring the powerhouse duo of Stan Nze and Blessing Obasi, is exactly that film. It is a gritty, emotionally exhausting, yet ultimately rewarding exploration of trauma, addiction, and the fragile process of "rising" from the ashes of a broken childhood.

 

The Hook: Beyond the "Bad Boy" Trope

The film opens not with a bang, but with a suffocating silence. We meet Amir (Stan Nze), a software developer whose brilliance is buried under layers of hostility and a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. On the surface, Amir is the "typical" toxic male colleague—rude, dismissive, and seemingly untouchable. But the genius of the script lies in how it introduces Chidima (Blessing Obasi).

 

Chidima isn’t just a "love interest" or a "feisty lead." She is the audience's surrogate—a woman with a background in psychology who sees the "why" behind the "what." The opening scenes at the tech firm perfectly capture the modern Nigerian workspace: the passive-aggressive banter from Larry (the office gossip), the high-pressure deadlines, and the sheer discomfort of working with someone who feels like a ticking time bomb.

 

Cinematography: Visualizing the Internal Cage

Directorially, Rise Again opts for a visual language that mirrors Amir’s mental state. In the first act, the cinematography relies heavily on tight close-ups and "shaky cam" during Amir’s moments of withdrawal. This creates a sense of claustrophobia; we are trapped in the office cubicle with his anger.

 

The lighting consistency is notably better than many contemporary YouTube-released features. The interior office scenes avoid the "over-bright" soap opera look, opting instead for cooler, blue-toned grading that emphasizes the coldness between Amir and his team. However, when the story shifts to Chidima’s home or the eventual scenes at the nursing home, the palette warms up, subtly signaling where the emotional safety lies.

 

Sound Design: The Rhythm of Addiction

Sound is often Nollywood's Achilles' heel, but here it is a narrative tool. The dialogue audibility is crisp, even in the heated argument scenes where Nigerian actors tend to overlap. Most impressive, however, is the use of "diegetic sound"—the flick of a lighter, the heavy breathing, the clack of a keyboard. These sounds are amplified to show Amir’s hyper-sensitivity to his environment.

 

The music cues are used sparingly. Instead of the typical "emotional piano" that tells the audience when to cry, the film utilizes silence. When Chidima gives Amir the "rainfall" audio playlist to help him sleep, the transition from the chaotic noise of Lagos to the rhythmic pitter-patter of rain is a masterstroke in sound editing. It provides the audience with the same "reset" that Amir is experiencing.

 

Performance Analysis: A Masterclass in Subtlety

Stan Nze as Amir: Nze continues to prove why he is the "actor's actor" of his generation. He plays Amir with a repressed intensity that is uncomfortable to watch. He doesn't go for the "loud" performance; instead, his journey is told through his eyes—the way they dart around when he’s craving a fix, or the way they soften when he finally mentions his sister, Hana. His portrayal of a man who "sees his father in himself" is haunting.

 

Blessing Obasi as Chidima: Obasi provides the perfect foil. Her performance is grounded and empathetic without being "preachy." In Nigeria, we often tell people to "just pray" or "be strong" when dealing with mental health. Chidima’s character represents a shift toward professional empathy. Her chemistry with Nze is electric because it isn't built on traditional romance; it’s built on the slow, painstaking construction of trust.

 

The Supporting Cast: Larry and Maria provide the necessary "Nigerian-ness" to the office setting. Their skepticism about Amir’s "madness" reflects the real-world stigma many Nigerians face regarding mental health and addiction.

 

Narrative Structure: The Ghost of Hana

The film’s midpoint shift is where the emotional heavy lifting happens. Through a series of non-linear flashbacks, we learn the source of Amir’s "baggage." The revelation of the domestic violence that led to his sister Hana’s death is handled with surprising sensitivity.

 

Nollywood often handles domestic violence with a "shouting match" approach. Rise Again takes a different route. It shows the aftermath—the paralyzed mother in the nursing home and the son who uses drugs to forget the sound of his sister’s screams. The pacing here is deliberate. It doesn’t rush the "healing" process. We see Amir struggle; we see him relapse; we see him literally choke Chidima in a moment of drug-induced paranoia. These are "ugly" scenes, but they are necessary for the resolution to feel earned.

 

Thematic Depth: Breaking the "Abomination" Label

One of the most poignant lines in the film comes when Amir discusses how his family was labeled an "abomination" after his father went to jail. This reflects a deep Nigerian reality: we often isolate families in crisis rather than helping them.

 

The film tackles three heavy themes simultaneously:

 

Generational Trauma: The fear of becoming the monster you hate.

 

Domestic Abuse Advocacy: Critiquing the "family and friends" who told Amir’s mother to stay in a violent marriage "for the sake of the children"—a decision that ultimately killed one child and broke the other.

 

Modern Addiction: Moving beyond the "drug pusher" stereotypes to show addiction as a coping mechanism for pain.

 

Plot Logic & Cultural Nuance

While the film is strong, it isn’t without its "Nollywood-isms." The transition of Amir’s father from a "monster" to a "repentant old man" feels slightly rushed. While twenty years in jail can change a man, his sudden appearance at Amir’s doorstep could have used a bit more narrative setup.

 

Additionally, the "miracle" of the mother regaining her memory (even briefly) through the smell of daisies is a classic cinematic trope. While emotionally satisfying, some might find it a bit too "convenient" for a film that otherwise feels very realistic. However, in the context of Nigerian cinema, where audiences look for a glimmer of hope or a "God-factor," this works perfectly for the local market.

 

Costume and Production Design

The contrast in wardrobe is subtle but effective. Amir starts the film in dark, wrinkled, or repetitive clothing—the uniform of someone who has stopped caring about the world. As he begins to "rise," his wardrobe shifts to cleaner lines and brighter colors (like the white shirt in the finale). Chidima’s wardrobe remains professional yet accessible, reflecting her role as a stabilizing force.

 

The sets, particularly the nursing home and Amir’s apartment, feel lived-in. Amir’s house is cluttered and dark, a physical manifestation of his mind, while the tech office feels sterile and high-pressure.

 

The Verdict: Is it a Viral Hit?

Rise Again is more than just a movie; it’s a conversation starter. It’s the kind of film that will trend on Nigerian Twitter (X) because it dares to talk about the things we usually hide behind "fine clothes" and "correct grammar."

 

It isn't a "feel-good" movie in the traditional sense, but it is a "feel-real" movie. It challenges the viewer to look at the "Amirs" in their own offices and neighborhoods with eyes of compassion rather than judgment.

 

Who should watch this?

 

Fans of intense, character-driven dramas.

 

Anyone interested in stories about mental health and recovery.

 

Couples and families (it serves as a powerful deterrent against domestic silence).

 

Aspiring Nollywood filmmakers looking for a lesson in "less is more."

 

My Thoughts: Blessing Obasi and Stan Nze have delivered a project that respects the audience's intelligence. It doesn't rely on cheap visual effects or over-the-top screaming matches. It relies on the human heart. If you want to see the new direction of African cinema—where the story is king and the acting is the crown—Rise Again is a must-watch.

 

Call to Action: Head over to the Blessing Obasi TV YouTube channel and watch the full movie. Be warned: bring tissues, but also bring an open mind.

 

What did you think of the ending? Was the father truly deserving of forgiveness? Let us know in the comments!

 

 

Verdict: A groundbreaking 4-star drama that sets a new bar for thematic depth in Nigerian YouTube cinema.


 

 

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