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Reboots have been a more commonly charted path by Nollywood producers in recent times. Not least because it offers an already existing story material: a langue; but because the new generation of moviegoers and watchers need to be in on the pristine story contents – classics – that shaped the formative years of earlier generations. Play Network Studios have championed that cause, reinventing movies like Nneka the Pretty Serpent, Living in Bondage and now Glamour Girls.
While the former has received favourable reviews and garnered a host of accolades and awards, the latter seems to be a relapse as it glitzes but could only give credence to the saying “not all that glitters is gold”.
Naturally, this film ought to be a window view into the life of escorts: revealing (s)exploitation, the banes of prostitution, male dominance and other valuable interplays within a thriving but dangerous social space like in the more successful Oloture. Instead, this reboot is draped in colour and colourful costumes, with dresses that cut a dash; fancy locations carefully sourced and exteriorised by ornate interiors – all ensuring that every frame makes you want to sit in it. All of these to the detriment of a strong plot fit for a blockbuster, a true climax and a relieving denouement.
The Glitz
Glamour Girls features a generally good cast. But thanks to Nse Ikpe-Etim (Donna) whose early introduction helps to sustain audience retention and expectation in an otherwise protractedly bland series of sequences. With her usual gait and ability to immerse herself into any character, Nse delivers another wonderful performance that brings back to the tongue of memory the taste of her delightful interpretation of Jumoke Randle in King of Boys. Despicable as she was in that movie, and avaricious as she is here, you couldn’t dislike Nse – even if she manages to feature in a movie as flat as Glamour Girls. She was the standout performer and it almost seemed like she had a different script which the director was powerless in stopping her from using – thankfully.
Sharon Ooja (Emma) comes close with her goof and exuberance. She was exciting to watch and she, together with the momentary entry of Uzor Arukwe (Aaron), gave a much-needed comic relief to the film now and then. Despite – and perhaps because of – the fact that we kept being reminded that she’s the beauty, Sharon isn’t just a pretty face like most people suggest: she has good acting in her and if you need a hoot or a beautiful brat who would manipulate her way to the top, Sharon is the one to cast. You’re reminded of her role as Jasmine Mwangi in The Men’s Club? I thought so too.
Also notable was the film’s use of Pidgin English. Codeswitching from “Queens” English to a seemingly “true” Pidgin English reflects just how much the highbrow, beyond their overly manicured exterior, can be like everyday people. Emma embodies this; the jarring difference between her unrefined mannerisms as an accused thief and a copasetic English when her life drastically changes helps the audience to relate better with the character and her circumstances – even if the plot did otherwise.
Unsurprisingly, Glamour Girls, as the title precedes, features impressive visuals: from thoughtful angles, glittering wardrobes, appropriate framings to perfect cuts, the film does not pay overt attention to every detail such as the television that screamed to be seen in the scene between Emma and Segun (Femi Branch); but it does enough to show how much message can be conveyed, specifically in the mid-movie sex scene, with a simple camera focus on a face, an undulating eyebrow and a barely faint moan.
Not all that Glitters…
The movie fails to pick up even 40 minutes into it. Every successive scene makes one want to ask: “what is this movie really about?”. Unlike in Rattle Snake where the equilibrium is quickly disrupted in the first act, here, we are made to wait, as if for Godot, for the inciting incident. This is a flaw on the part of the director, Bunmi Ajakaiye, who did not do enough to quickly alternate between exposition and rising action within the sub-plots in order to get the audience at the edge of their seats. A couple more unnecessary scenes made us wait even more for the disruption, until suddenly the film started to move much too fast, like a bipolar carousel hurling slowly at first, almost dizzying, then, in a moment, picks up, scurrying, and reeling into a vague flurry. It was not surprising, then, that the ending was rushed because the beginning wasn’t – a directorial disasterclass that ensured that we were left to fill in too many gaps by ourselves.
As if that wasn’t enough, the story was also clumsy, and you should blame the script and its director. What really happened to Jemma’s (Joselyn Dumas) son? What did Aaron see in Louisa’s (Toke Makinwa) store? Why would Zeribe frame Emma at the flash drive scene? How was someone as laidback as Jemma able to kill someone as sturdy as Alex (Chukie “Lynxxx” Edozien)? Why add the scene where the hacker chooses to sleep with Emma? Was the Beirut trip necessary? How did Donna get a third flash drive? How did Emma slip the flash drive back in Zeribe’s pocket? These are some of the many questions that Glamour Girls leaves us with.
Moreover, the story, in its entirety, was lifeless, mundane and uninspiring, unfit for a repeated watch. It neither elicits a specifically overarching moral lesson or message nor does it truly depict the inner workings of a contentious topic as prostitution in boldly imaginative and rallying themes. The movie literally announces that “I’m going to talk about prostitution” only to return a few minutes later to say “I clearly don’t know what I’m doing”. To be frank, it fails to induce any moral, emotional or psychological satiation that virtues have been rewarded, and vices punished – a rudimentary wiring of classic narratives.
Finally, the underground songs used as the soundtrack should be a unique experimentation and therefore a thing of beauty. However, not only did the songs sometimes encroach on dialogues but the overall sound production was questionable at some points. Take for example the scene where Jemma was making a call from Lebanon which sounded echo-ish as if it was from a studio. Between that and an admittedly heavy-handed dialogue which only the glam and fashion could sweep some of us through, I’m unsure which is worse.
Final Words
The movie rounds off unconvincingly, even worse than it started, having failed to perform justice on a poignant topic. A compelling performance by Nse Ikpe-Etim and crisp visual elements, but Glamour Girls never evades the shadow of its antecedence nor its unquestionably weak handling of a pertinent reality.
Rating: 4/10
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Source: TheNet
