In 2009, when flip telephones were as yet a thing and the world hadn't been taken over by Instagram and TikToks, Toyin Abraham delivered the primary portion in the Alakada establishment, which crawled its direction into our souls with its blend of humor, wince exhibitions, and cultural reflections. Regardless of high expectations from her fans, who long to perceive how Yetunde's life would unwind, the spin-offs — Alakada 2 (2013), Alakada Reloaded (2017), Destiny of Alakada: The Wedding Organizer (2020) — didn't exactly stir things up around town all things considered. Their account wander and exhibitions frequently bombed. Presently, with its most recent portion, Alakada: Awful and Boujee, the establishment is by all accounts following over old ground, simply reusing topics and character bends from its ancestors. In attempting to catch the comical and social editorial format of the first, it winds up feeling like a recognizable reverberation as opposed to a new, comedic-emotional experience.
The initial grouping of Alakada: Terrible and Boujee starts with a severe and serious fight, similar to a scene from ongoing Nollywood hidden world dealings, which results in obliteration and bloodletting afterward. Be that as it may, it doesn't take some time before it diverts its attention on Yetunde's (Toyin Abraham) self important way of life and false prosperous.
After the bloodbath, Lady Sharon (Ini Edo), an organ reaper and seller camouflaged as a humanitarian, visits the Isale Eko neighborhood to teach harmony and offer gifts with the local area. We see Yetunde, flanked by her companions Rebecca (Airhead Ademoye) and Abebi (Lizzy Jay), at the focal point of the group, frantically hanging tight for their portions of the gifts. In any case, when they are given their gifts, Yetunde rejects them since Lady Sharon's media group is live-streaming the occasion on her web-based entertainment. Yetunde, rich and well known on Instagram and TikTok about her alleged tycoon father, mustn't be seen taking altruistic gifts in the ghetto. That would discolor her online entertainment glitz and impact.
The film navigates the precarious situation among show and parody with a beauty that could make a bazaar entertainer desirous. It's hard not to giggle when Yetunde's life begins unwinding, similar to when she has food pundit Opeyemi Famakin (as himself) out on the town at an extravagant café. A bygone era companion strolls in and is stunned by Yetunde's impressive look. Realizing Yetunde's way of life is more fiction than truth, she chooses to pound her lies, regardless of Yetunde's assumption of not knowing what her identity is. Opeyemi Famakin, feeling frustrated, leaves the date. The result is dishonorable for Yetunde and her companions. However, that doesn't prevent her from informing more awesome stories regarding her family's riches.
This continuation turns up the dial on parody. Yetunde's tricks become progressively stunning — the chuckles are abundant, and her activities are pitiable. The scene where Yetunde and companions visit Lady Sparkle's (Ronke Odusanya) store to get outfits for her phony Instagram life incorporates a portion of the film's best snickers, making fun of Asabi's appearance and conduct. Notwithstanding, the exterior goes past that of Yetunde's trickiness in outlandish areas. The twofold way of life includes her sibling, Jide (Odunlade Adekola), the apparently great sheep of the family.
The screenplay, credited to Shikemi Felix, utilizes the setting of the web-based entertainment powerhouses blast to feature the craziness of online personas. To large numbers of her fans, Yetunde is a rich woman naturally introduced to abundance. Regardless of that direct way, the account is overstuffed and tangled with subplots. The screenplay's endeavor to handle subjects like created sumptuous personas, harmful connections, and the gaudiness of certain humanitarians seems to be ponderous and disconnected. An example is the unexpected leap into the oppressive connection between Alaba (Yhemolee), and Mayowa (Okusanya Lolade), which is garbled and half-cooked. Notwithstanding, the humor is sharp, frequently making fun of the powerhouse culture and pompous ways of life of phony it-until-you-make-it and the guilelessness of their devotees.
Underneath the humor, there's a forsaken perception of how far somebody will go to keep an honest life, particularly when untruths have turned into one's personality. In the wake of seeing the horrifying killing organized by Lady Sharon, Yetunde goes around, attempting to persuade everybody about the malicious deeds of Lady Sharon. In any case, since she's inseparable from lies, nobody trusts her. It makes her extremely upset. She recollects Jide once cautioned her to cease from lying since no one would accept her when she really wanted them to be.
Chief Adebayo Tijani plainly embraced the disarray of contemporary culture. The film's consideration of well known TikTok and Instagram forces to be reckoned with makes it ideal. However, these powerhouses aren't prepared entertainers, so their boisterous exhibitions ruin the film's expected substance. The appearances of the TikTok powerhouse Peller, entertainer Chimezie Imo, and the artist Versatile are practices in pointlessness. It's even more a trick, leaving us doubting their motivation past simple acknowledgment — they contribute only a temporary, empty scene to the story.
Toyin Abraham's Yetunde is remarkably dreary like in the past Alakada films. Her acting here comes up short on fundamental feelings very much like her risible untruths. Notwithstanding, the supporting cast offers a few saving graces. However not her best, Airhead Ademoye's Rebecca intrigues as the ethical compass, filling in as the voice of reason among the triplet. On the opposite finish of the range, Lizzy Jay's Abebi, portrayed by her obvious ignorance, brings a hilarious, silly appeal to the film. Her tricks are the wellspring of a significant part of the film's parody.
Very much like the past portions in the establishment, Alakada: Terrible and Boujee is an unremarkable compulsion. With a plot that reuses natural sayings absent a lot of development, it exchanges an excess of wistfulness over inventive thoughts. The constrained return of Alakada, very much like A.Y Makun's Akpos and Funke Akindele's Jenifa, appears to be advertising ploys for the blockbuster season instead of natural story improvements. We might have accomplished both.