Movie Review: Alágbẹ̀dẹ (Blacksmith) by Jaiye Kuti

The Yorùbá Nollywood industry is evolving, and it’s a transformation worth celebrating. From impeccable productions to deep cultural portrayals, these films are redefining our stories.

Take Alágbẹ̀dẹ, for instance. This movie is currently streaming on Circuits, a likely Nigerian platform. While it’s refreshing to see our stories told on our platforms, I hope Circuits improves its user experience and develops a mobile app soon. We need platforms like this to stand tall on the global stage.

Alágbẹ̀dẹ is a masterpiece that takes us back to our roots. The title alone holds so much meaning. It reminds us that technology isn’t new to Africa—it’s been here all along. The blacksmith workshop depicted in the movie reflects the metallurgical technology that existed in Yorùbáland for centuries. Unfortunately, instead of innovating, we left it stagnant, a powerful reminder of lost potential.

The movie follows the story of Àdìó, played by Fẹ́mi Adébáyọ̀, a humble and hardworking blacksmith deeply in love with Ọmọlẹwà, portrayed by Kẹ́hìndé Bánkọlé. But as love stories often go, there’s conflict. Àdìó faces rejection from Ọmọlẹwà’s mother, played by the ever-talented Bimbo Oshin, because of his poor background.

Desperate to prove himself, Àdìó turns to money rituals, a decision influenced by his friend Wọlé, played by Gabriel Afọláyan. To hide his secret, Àdìó lies, claiming his newfound wealth comes from Wọlé’s inheritance from his late grandfather. But Wọlé, enjoying the benefits of the lie, becomes reckless—marrying three wives at once and living extravagantly.

Wọlé gets greedy, exemplifying the Yorùbá adage, idá n fa àkọ̀ ya, kò mọ̀ pé òun n wó ilé mọ́ ara òun lórí (‘the sword is destroying its scabbard, unaware it is also ruining its own sheath’). He forgets that all the luxury and enjoyment he was basking in were extensions of Àdìó’s supposed wealth from the money ritual. By threatening to expose and sabotage Àdìó, he is essentially cutting off the very source of his own riches.

When Wọlé starts to threaten Àdìó with exposing the truth, and the demands of the ritual become unbearable, Àdìó contemplates ending it all. But his loyal fiancée, Ọmọlẹwà, convinces him to fight back and seek a way out.

Now, let’s talk about standout characters. Prince Jídé Kòsọ́kọ́, as Ọmọlẹwà’s father, delivers a calm and loving performance. Unlike Ọmọlẹwà’s mother, he has nothing against Àdìó and wants the best for his daughter without judging based on wealth.

Ọmọlẹwà herself is a beacon of loyalty. Despite tempting offers from wealthier suitors and her mother’s disapproval, she stands by Àdìó. Her unwavering faith in his potential is both touching and inspiring.

The turning point comes when Àdìó, with Ọmọlẹwà’s encouragement, revisits the Ifá priest, played by Fatai Odua Lalude. Here’s the twist—Àdìó’s wealth has nothing to do with the rituals. It is his hard work, consistency, and kindness all along.

This revelation is the heart of the movie. It highlights the real ‘money ritual’—diligence, persistence, and strategic relationships. It’s a powerful message, dismantling myths about wealth and the baseless accusations of rituals often thrown at disciplined individuals.

By the way, I don’t believe in Ògun Owó (money rituals)—at least not in the way the average Nigerian perceives it.

Adding humour and spice to the story is Ìyá Ajá, played by Jaiye Kuti, the neighbourhood gossiper who never misses a beat.

Then there’s the Báálẹ̀, portrayed by Ọláìyá Igwe, who hastily makes Wọlé a chief because of his wealth. This decision backfires when Wọlé demolishes the palace, leaving the community in chaos once his funds dry up.

This subplot serves as a lesson: Although the Báálẹ̀ wasn’t wrong in appointing a wealthy man as his chief to help develop the town or village, leadership decisions should be based on character and substance, not just on wealth.

However, not everything in Alágbẹ̀dẹ is perfect. For example, the subtitles had translation issues. The cast credits also have typos. Translating a Babaláwo to a witchdoctor and rendering ànjọ̀nnú as gods or deities feels inaccurate.

During Wọlé’s third wedding, I expected a traditional Yorùbá Ìṣẹ̀ṣe ceremony. Instead, we saw a portrayal that was not very accurate and misleading. For instance, pouring water on a bride’s feet is cultural, not necessarily tied to the Ìṣẹ̀ṣe religion— a Christian or Muslim Yorùbá can do it. I was looking forward to an Ìṣẹ̀ṣe wedding.

Lastly, Mr. Macaroni’s use of the proverb Ẹni orí yọ ó di ilé and his mispronunciation—saying Ẹní (mat) instead of Ẹni (used for personification)—was disappointing. Such errors undermine the cultural authenticity the movie otherwise strives to deliver.

Despite these minor flaws, Alágbẹ̀dẹ delivers a powerful story. It perfectly shows us what a typical Yorùbá town looked like in the mid-to-late 1900s.

For me, this movie is a solid 8 out of 10. It’s a must-watch for anyone who loves culturally rich stories with meaningful lessons.

Have you seen Alágbẹ̀dẹ yet? If not, you’re missing out.

If you have, let me know what you think in the comment section.