Iwájú

Ever since I caught on to shows like For All Mankind from Apple TV+ and The Mandalorian from Disney+, I'd become astounded by what doors could have been opened for television ever since streaming came along. With groundbreaking hits like House of Cards, Stranger Things, and Orange is the New Black, all of them from Netflix, it made us open our eyes to the possibilities to be gained out of conceptualizing television shows for streaming networks and what freedom they all could have allowed. We've always had premium networks like HBO to get the job done, but they were still bound by the conventional rules that came with broadcast television. But with streaming networks, any TV show or movie that premiered under such networks somehow felt like they've been given more creative freedom than ever. And while I was impressed with what Disney+ offered in terms of what expansions it had greenlit for the Marvel movies and Star Wars, it's always the programming for Disney's own animated films that I found most intriguing. One of my favorites is Monsters at Work, since I found that TV series a decent sequel worthy of Monsters, Inc.

However, one of Disney+’s proposed shows that caught my interest the most was a unique show entitled Iwájú.

At first glance, I looked at this show and thought this could have been to Disney Animation what Black Panther was to Marvel. As in, it introduced us to a new African community with futuristic elements thrown into the mix. And what's even more intriguing is that it's not just Disney that helped put the show together, but also an African comic company called Kugali. And in their first collaborative venture, they put this show together to tell the story of individuals that had to navigate between two opposing sides in the same African lands. That kind of premise was just one of plenty factors that aroused my interest in this show.

The story centered around a little girl named Tola Martins, who just turned ten years old and was intrigued to investigate the other parts of Lagos, Nigeria, which her father, Tunde Martins, strictly forbade her from doing so. Things got even more complicated when Tola started to fall for – well, rather not fall for, but rather becomes close friends with – one of the local household servants, a young boy named Kole Adesola, who came over from the other part of Lagos to help out. Impatient to see what the other side of Lagos was like, Tola asked Kole to take her out to the other side of Lagos and show her around after feeling like she's been neglected by her father for too long.

Meanwhile, while that's going on, Tunde was putting together some new devices, one of which I'll highlight very soon, that would have helped him stay afloat in the most respected high-tech business in Lagos, Greenwood Tech. Tunde had been working his way up from nothing until he was sure to achieve technological achievements for his boss, Mrs. Usman, founder of Greenwood Tech.

On the other side of Lagos lived a local crime boss named Bode de Sousa, who had been targeting some of the wealthiest individuals in Lagos. To make things even more complicated, one of the people working for him happened to be Kole. And because Kole was showing Tola around the other side of Lagos, that also brought them both closer to danger, for Bode also set his eyes on Tunde, a wealthy and respected individual and citizen, for his money. And he found out that with Kole’s connections to Tola, he could have gotten his hands on her and demanded that Tunde pay a hefty ransom for her freedom. As the ball got rolling on the clashes between the intertwining social units, Kole was left torn between both sides, between his allegiance to Bode and that to Tunde, because he was doing everything he could have in his power to provide for his deathly ill mother back home.

What was going to become of Tola as she discovered the other part of Lagos? Would Tunde’s priorities to his technological advancements have mattered more than the love he had for his daughter? What did Bode want with all the money in the first place? And what tricks did Tola have up her sleeve that would have helped her and her friends out in their adventures throughout both sides of Lagos?

As I stated, I was already intrigued by the premise at first, in that it would have highlighted the story of a couple individuals who each came from between two different sides of one whole city. One side was basically equivalent to how African societies are like today, with all of its impoverishments and how it was brimming with poverty. But its other side was basically what the African communities aspired to be, where it was all united as a whole community and reliant on the most advanced technology that could ever have been invented by man. And for what it had going for it, even though it didn’t feel quite as epic as its premise would’ve suggested, it still invited a ton of intriguing dynamics and connections between the characters that would have helped anchor this series.

To start with, the animation was very vibrant and all-encompassing, even if it was not as polished as the animation in Disney’s cinematic lineup. It offered a most colorful and distinct look at African communities while highlighting the differences between each part of Lagos as well as between different characters. The high-tech side of Lagos was awe-inspiring, immense, and brimming with technological advancements at their most ubiquitous and highly functional. Meanwhile, the lower end of Lagos came forth filled with life, except it's barren, more brownish, and more dull by comparison. It helped highlight the lower class aspects of Lagos in which Kole and his mother lived. And even when you look at the animation applied onto the characters, they all moved about as fluidly and frequently as you would anticipate from such high-tech fantasy series set in Africa. Even their clothing styles, besides just their irresistible vibrancy, carried a fitting representation of each character's backgrounds. Whether they wore any gadgets or clothing that resembled their high class stature or their lower class level, they carried enough of them to represent where they stood in society and what those said about those who tried to shake things up.

The characters were also worth looking into, because they, too, felt very distinct and memorable.

The little girl, Tola Martins, was full of spunk and energy to her. And because of her reaching ten, her personality highlighted how she was still a little child, but not without a generous helping of tech-savviness. She was also savvy enough of the real world around her to gain a glimmer of an understanding as to what had to be done either for her own interests or for those of her friends and family, even if a good portion of it started out as an innermost curiosity to look at the other parts of Lagos in which she lived.

Kole Adesola, I thought, probably felt very complex due to the allegiances he upheld. On the one end, he was working as a servant to Tunde Martins and was expected by him to just stick to his duties and not interfere with any familial matters. But on the other end, he's also on Bode de Sousa’s payroll because of how desperate he was to get the money he needed to tend to his mother, get the medicines and to help them sustain a stable lifestyle in the slums. So, when it got to the point where both his work ethics crept into his familial and social matters, that's when it started to get more entangled and serious for him and those closest to him.

Bode de Sousa, the crime boss, I legitimately thought was a most devious and ravishing villain. He was basically a crime boss who targeted the wealthy elite and tried to rob them of their money just to get all the money he could have gotten his hands on. When I saw him in action throughout this show, he felt like the African equivalent of Sykes from Oliver and Company since he basically did what any crime boss would have done, only without the customary bloodshed. He also demanded his payments from his followers but would have inflicted consequences on those who did not hold up their end of the bargain. But what made this guy interesting was that a good portion of his pursuits for money stemmed from his and his mother's background, also in the slums. A flashback scene showed how he was stealing a priceless necklace from a wealthy household he and his mother used to work for because of his desperation to make some money for himself. And considering what kind of impoverished society he and Kole lived in, it got to the point where I could’ve seen where he's coming from and why he was driven to do what he did, even if the measures he took to ensure financial stability for himself were too far and unethical. At an age where sufficient and memorable Disney villains were few and far between ever since, say, Mother Gothel in Tangled, this character felt like a step in the right direction.

Bode’s henchwoman, Happiness, didn’t seem all that engaging outside of her sneaky demeanors and methods of playing her cards right on her targets. Of course, not only did that make her intimidating on her own, but she began to feel even more interesting when more friction became more noticeable between her and Bode. Sure, we’ve seen this kind of character before, with characters like Helga from Atlantis or Mirage from The Incredibles. But again, the different cultural aesthetic and just what kind of character she was when she had access to the kind of technology that Africa would only have dreamed of were enough to help her feel more distinctive.

Tola’s father, Tunde Martins, seemed slightly interesting in spots. On the one end, he was pretty shallow in terms of his overall contributions as a father, for he was more driven to prove himself as a worthy engineer in the eyes of Lagos, as well as Mrs. Usman, and was willing to commit himself to every aspect of his work until he could have perfected it as he went. But on the other end, his commitment to wanting to make a name for himself in Greenwood Tech, when they began to collide with his relationship with Tola, was when it began to test him and make him see where his allegiances truly lay. So, when he finally caught attention of Tola, when she got too close to where Bode de Sousa’s lair was, that's when he began to reevaluate his commitments and what and who truly mattered to him.

As for the technological advancements Tunde was putting together, this led to what I consider the most staggering and astonishing character in the series: Otin, the salamander.

Or, as I might as well just call her, the cybermander.

With most other Disney films, when you have a heroine who had a sidekick, you'd expect the sidekick to be usually on the heroine’s side and something of a shoulder to cry on, like, for instance, Pascal for Rapunzel. But in this series, even though Otin did look like that, and yes, she did serve as an occasional companion for Tola, her purpose completely shedded her in a new light. Not only was she given to Tola by Tunde as a birthday gift, but most importantly, she was also created by Tunde both as one of his breakthrough experiments and to keep an eye on Tola.

That's right. The sidekick who tagged along with Tola and was supposed to be seen as the child appeal also functioned as a borderline bodyguard to watch over Tola as she wandered about and did her own thing. To put it another way, she's less like Flounder and more like Sebastian.

Most other Disney sidekicks basically had their moments to shine when the movie wasn't focused on the main characters. But something about who or what Otin was in this show completely set her apart from all the others and made me evaluate her in a different light than I ever anticipated to evaluate her. She was just a surprise breakthrough for me. And in terms of how Tunde was able to keep tabs on Tola, no matter where she went or when she was apprehended by someone like Bode, it could’ve been thanks to Otin and what work she did for Tunde for his own needs or for Tola’s welfare. So, it was a most intriguing way to introduce her in this series.

Another aspect of this show that felt so strong yet kept slipping by me was the voice acting. Each actor’s performance in this show carried an innermost cultural vibe in their voices to strengthen each character’s native background, much like how the actors in the Black Panther movies conveyed the right amount of distinct cultural flair to add flavor to their surroundings.

Whenever I think back to Tola, I always think back to her sense of energy and enthusiasm, which was made possible by Simisola Gbadamosi. She simply played Tola like she had grown up almost isolated from what and who truly mattered to her in her life, while her surprising level of tech-savviness hinted at the possibilities of her family’s technological accommodations keeping her company. Of course, Gbadamosi also was no slouch in honing Tola’s naïveté and uncertainties whenever she wandered in places where she had never traveled to before, as well as whether she was prepared to face the world head on despite her wishes to see the outside world.

Siji Soetan, who played Kole, expressed different commitments with his character compared to Gbadamosi. He, too, portrayed Kole with a distinct level of childlike innocence, but also with enough maturity to suggest that he knew what was going on in the real world and what he had to prepare for to stay on top of things. However, something about his maturity sounded as if Kole acquired it too early for a boy his age. With Tola, whatever maturity she showed seemed more natural, but with Kole, he sounds as if he wasn’t ready for the responsibilities that fell upon him. But that didn’t stop him from trying to get the job done, and Soetan reflected that part of his character with ease.

Dayo Okeniyi expressed just enough subtlety in his voice to highlight just how committed Tunde generally was. I tend to think a bit about Kenneth Mars when he portrayed King Triton with enough calm and innermost prowess to highlight his position as a king and a father to Ariel. With Tunde, Okeniyi highlighted his subtlety to demonstrate his technological know-how and his commitment to the cause, even it began to clash with his relationship with his daughter. And as the situation got more dire and Tunde finally caught on to the gravity of the situations concerning Tola, only then would his fatherly instincts have made themselves clear as only Okeniyi could have arranged.

Femi Branch’s performance as Bode de Sousa have been sometimes subject to the style-over-substance aspects to his character. He expressed his character in a friendly manner, but even then, it helped signify that Bode was willing to get his way with other people, even his own followers, and that he would’ve been watching them like a hawk underneath his supposedly friendly gestures. But it didn’t stop Branch from conveying Sousa’s more menacing dispositions and underhandedness under the right circumstances. Whenever Bode looked agitated or ready to make his move on his opponents, the more authoritative angles of his performance underscored Bode’s standing in Lagos’ criminal underworld and how much he meant business.

What Happiness lacked in collective characterizations, it was made up for with the performance Bisola Aiyeola applied onto her. Her voice suggested a potential title in where Happiness stood in the African mafia, and that her antics would have been carried out without any trouble, or so her confidence would have told her and us. Of course, as Happiness’ allegiances began to drift from Bode, Aiyeola still portrayed Happiness with just enough alertness in her voice to remind me of how she was still the same person even in the midst of shifting priorities and allegiances.

Weruche Opia as Otin sounded just like what you’d expect to hear from an African-made animal robot. Yes, the voice was female, carried an African dialect to her, and almost always spoke in a monotone voice, but to hear it from this cute-looking cybermander suggested a charming imbalance but also a slight responsibility Otin meant to establish as far as Tola was concerned. Even when Otin was lost or lagging behind in her attempts to find Tola, Opia still conveyed the cybermander with enough personality to help bring this robot to life through other means. Even when Otin was running low on battery life, Opia’s voice still carried just a twinge of empathy despite Otin’s robotic programming dictating her voice into sluggishness.

Even though it isn't talked about very much, I'm also very fond of the music by Ré Olunuga. It may not have been as bombastic or haunting as Alan Menken's work, but it still maintained the general African feel to it that would have given Iwájú its identity, much like what Ludwig Göransson provided to the Black Panther films so far.

Now, if there was one thing that I felt slightly disappointed by about this series, I would say that as intriguing as the main characters were in this show, Tola, who seemingly felt like the more primary main protagonist, got sidelined a little bit. Outside of feeling like a regular kid with some borderline proficiency in technological handlings, there was not enough to this character to help her stand out as the main character. She's a little bit like Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty. The side characters and villain were so memorable and well-defined that, for all of the main character’s moments, there's just not enough to her to help her stand as tall as the others. That's not to say there's anything wrong with Tola. I wouldn't even say it was bad. Her personality and long-term contributions to the narrative were just a little too much on the light side for me.

And believe it or not, I ended up having mixed feelings about the series’ serial format.

As a whole, Iwájú is only six episodes long, and each of them around twenty minutes long. When you add them all together, that's basically 120 minutes (two hours) worth of programming to tell the story of Iwájú. Technically, it did make for a more engaging experience, for when you finish up one episode, you're tempted to want to hop on to the next one until you see what would have happened next. But because there were so few episodes of the show and how they all added up to what would generally have been a feature-length movie, I think there's nothing wrong with presenting Iwájú as just a straight-up feature length movie that just happened to be longer than the others.

Even then, though, this could have posed a bit of a problem. We all know that Moana 2 suffered the same way, and yes, I can see where everybody's coming from in that, had Moana 2 just stuck to being a follow-up TV series on Disney+ like it was meant to be, then the structure for the show would have been a little more intriguing. However, whether it paid off as a movie or not, it still offered enough intrigue and surprises to make me intrigued to see what would have happened next with the characters in the movie.

Also, I can also see one problem with Iwájú being condensed into a movie and that it would have robbed its chances of further character development. I know that the crew who tagged along with Moana 2 got the short end of the stick because of this. And I feel like had Moana 2 remained a Disney+ series, maybe it would have helped them out in terms of their introductions and further character development. With Iwájú, its character development was just plentiful, and the series felt enriched because of this.

You can say that whatever problems I have with Moana 2, I have the exact opposite problems with Iwájú. The grass is always greener on the other side, I suppose.

All in all, I would describe Iwájú as a delightfully exotic and colorful trip into the intriguing realms of Africana that would leave you and the family wholly satisfied. And for a collaborative venture that a company like Walt Disney Animation Studios put together with Kugali, an African comics company, they knocked it out of the park with this series. The characters were distinguished and memorable. The African settings were eye-opening and creative. The character dynamics were fascinating. And though the serial structure was a bit hit-and-miss, it still helped the show tell its story with as much intrigue as it could have guaranteed.

Lately, Disney+ announced that they are no longer doing long-form original programming, and I think that is a huge shame. I can only imagine just what more TV shows Disney could have put together had they had the money and creative minds necessary to lunge forth with it. Even the Tiana series, I don't know exactly what that would have added to the story of The Princess and the Frog, but it would still have been an intriguing idea nonetheless. And there is basically a fulfillment of what I believe streaming is capable of.

Until then, we always have Iwájú to return to, and here's hoping that Disney and Pixar will change their minds about long-form streaming programming sometime soon.

My Rating

A-