I first heard about Shanty Town in 2021, of a Nollywood work that focuses on violence in the slums, which would star Chidi Mokeme. Then, I presumed that it would be a movie, which would make its way into the Nigerian screens in 2022. Inaccurate, and inaccurate. Almost two years after first coming across production news over this project, it has dropped as a series on Netflix, the first big Nigerian work to be released by that streaming platform in 2023.
Created by Xavier Ighorodje (Enakhe), and directed by Dimeji Ajibola (Ratnik), Shanty Town stars Mokeme alongside Nse Ikpe-Etim, Ini Edo, Nancy Isime, and, among others, Richard Mofe-Damijo, and spans six episodes.
Right from where the build-up built up in 2021, Shanty Town has been billed as a dead-eyed, grim, and gritty project, where the harsh vicissitudes of life are brought on full-bore. A serious work with little room for glee. But how does it pan out in general?
The Good
Shanty Town is dead-eyed, grim, and gritty. It does carry with itself a certain kind vibe of wanting to be taken seriously, so much so that ‘vibe’ might not be a word that would fit with it. If Shanty Town was a person, it would be the kind that responded to your jibes with ‘do I look like I have time for jokes?’. The series starts off on that note, strict parenting is immediately interrupted by fatalism, and death is at the door before you have time to respond to its knock. It certainly doesn’t hold back in that regard. It portrays a dog-eat-dog world where every dog is prowling to devour.
The acting also hits the mark, at least some of it anyway. Chidi Mokeme in particular stands out, not quite as a character to identify with, or necessarily understand, but one that intrigues you, and portrayed with the performance that impresses. You see the vile dominating mould he carries as Scar, and the ridiculed timid boy demeanour he has as Aboderin. He looks as powerful as he is when he’s in full-fledged mode, and acts as powerless when the time comes for him to be in his place.
Shanty Town also does well with its dialogue. A few Nigerian projects that centres on backwater areas sometimes over-commits itself, and tries to make sure it stands out with its street-wise lingo. But what Shanty Town does is that it makes it a touch seamless, and occasionally offers a kind of code-switching that makes you understand that, many times, power play and seemingly stereotypically tough is as much a performance as it is a truth.
The Bad
Again, Shanty Town is dead-eyed, grim, and gritty… but then what? Shanty Town focuses on life in the slums, but barely, and doesn’t offer any concrete story to it. It hardly does more than say ‘life in these areas of the world is tough’, we know that already, we want you to tell us how and why. It’s an indictment of this series that by the time we start the penultimate episode, we are still in the dark as to what’s what. Character motivations barely scratch the surface, some of which simply go from unidentifiable in the early bits to full-blown in the finale, and acts of violence that typify the town and are meant to speak to the story as a whole are rendered repetitive.
Directed by Dimeji Ajibola – who may be the Nigerian version of if you asked Michael Bay to tone it down a bit and gave him a smaller budget – Shanty Town doesn’t hold back. Streets go bang and boom in next to no-time. Heads get shot off or chopped off with ruthless alacrity, and cars get flung and turned over. Sometimes, it beggars belief and betrays realism, but it happens. The issue, however, is that a lot of that happens for show. It seems like explosions happen and cars tumble because we can now make explosions happen and cars tumble, and not because it makes sense, story-wise or physics-wise. Another indictment is that from the second episode, those acts start to seem like they happen to look badass and nothing more.
Shanty Town also fails in terms of some of its characterisation, and reducing characters to cliches, one-liners, or tropes, all of which are done quite poorly. Biggest case in point is Shaffy Bello, who the series is so intent on depicting as a fun, quirky villain, it fails to give it any concrete story, or even screen-time. Why should we care that she wants to remain governor or wants her name to be heard after just one interaction with her? This also segues us into the series’ final episode, where it descends upon itself, and opts for chaos, for the sake of it. At best, it seemed like the series forgot to concretely progress through the episodes, and just sped itself up in the finale. At worst, it just looked like character actions and logic only interpret to one thing: we want to do stuff that justifies having choreographed fight scenes and shootouts in the final acts.
The Ugly
For a series that sets itself in the slums, it’s quite ridiculous that only time we mention the efforts of the rich and powerful in creating and profiting off of those slums is via the mouths of ‘law-enforcement’ agents.
Also, did they forget to give Zubby Michael lines in the entire series?
Conclusion:
After nearly two years, Shanty Town finally came to town, and has climbed its way into the Netflix charts for viewership in Nigeria. But this series had too many kinks that were unworked, too many holes that weren’t plugged, and was so intent in being so cool and game-faced, that it barely considered the importance of having a solid story. For a series so dead-eyed, it’s not great that the best praise it could merit was that ‘it could be worse’.
Rating: 3/10.
Comments