Set in the years following the Nigerian Civil War, “Aba Blues” arrives as one of the most emotionally daring Nollywood films of this year — a period romantic drama rooted in the commercial heartbeat of Abia State that refuses to play it safe. Director Jack’enneth Opukeme, who already distinguished himself with the landmark “Farmer’s Bride,” returns here with a film that began as a stage play and carries the intimate weight of that origin. It shows on screen in the best possible way: every conversation feels observed rather than performed, every emotional beat earns its place in the story rather than being pushed onto the audience.

The story follows Amara (Anosike), a married woman whose equilibrium is shattered when her former high school sweetheart Dirim (Jide Kene Achufusi) returns — older, changed, but carrying the same charge that originally upended her world. Her husband Uzor (Prince Nelson Enwerem) must now fight not just for his marriage, but against the particular gravity of a shared past. Opukeme’s script handles this triangle with unusual sophistication; nobody is simply right or wrong, and the film doesn’t flatten its characters into positions to be argued about.

The period detail — Aba in the post-Civil War decades, its particular culture of resilience, commerce, and ambition — is meticulously rendered. Language, costume, and set design all reflect research that goes beyond surface-level authenticity. And the city of Aba itself functions as more than backdrop; its energy and contradictions are threaded into the characters’ psychology. Supporting performances from Bimbo Akintola and Toni Tones bring additional depth, while Odunlade Adekola in an extended cameo reminds us why certain Nollywood veterans can do more with a look than most actors can with a monologue.

What slightly prevents “Aba Blues” from total greatness is a third act that overexplains what the first two acts had already communicated with elegance. But these are minor reservations about an otherwise significant film — one that confirms Opukeme and FilmOne Studios as among the most important creative alliances in contemporary Nollywood.

Nigeria has a colonial past that is still, in 2026, dramatically underrepresented in its own cinema. “Eleko” intends to change that — and in large part, it succeeds. Prince Jide Kosoko, drawing on his actual Kosoko royal lineage, has produced what he describes as a “cultural mission,” and the film carries that intention in every frame. This is a biographical epic about Oba Esugbayi Eleko, the Lagos monarch who defied British colonial authority, was deposed and exiled to Oyo in 1925, and then — in one of Nigerian history’s most remarkable legal reversals — returned to his throne in 1931 after a successful Privy Council challenge in London.

The film’s 119-minute runtime spans palace politics, grassroots market resistance, nationalist alliances with Herbert Macaulay, and the daily life of colonial Lagos with impressive breadth. The costume and set design is meticulous — visibly researched from historical records, not approximated from vague period aesthetics. The decision to cast Femi Branch in the lead role of Oba Esugbayi is inspired; Branch brings a regal stillness that communicates dignity under pressure without ever resorting to the stiff formality that can kill period performance.

The film is less successful in managing its ensemble. With a cast list that includes Femi Adebayo, Yomi Fash-Lanso, Yinka Quadri, Saidi Balogun and others, the temptation to give each screen legend their moment occasionally produces sequences that feel more celebratory than narratively necessary. The film would gain from more ruthless editing in its middle stretch. Three directors also means the visual language has occasional inconsistencies in tone and rhythm.

These are imperfections, not failures. The final act — depicting the public reception of Oba Esugbayi’s return to Lagos — achieves genuine emotional power, particularly for viewers who know the history. And the film’s release on March 20, 2026, timed to coincide with the Eid El Fitr and Easter holiday season, is a canny commercial decision that positions this important piece of cultural work for its widest possible Nigerian audience.

“Behind the Scenes” arrived in December 2025 as the most commercially successful Nigerian film in history. It now prepares for its April 3 Netflix global debut carrying a weight that most films never have to bear: it is the yardstick against which all of contemporary Nollywood will be measured. And frankly, it mostly justifies that weight. Funke Akindele has spent the last three years building a run of billion-naira box office films, but “Behind the Scenes” is her most emotionally precise work yet — a film that understands that commercial cinema and human insight are not mutually exclusive.

The film centres on Aderonke “Ronky-Fella” Faniran, a successful real estate entrepreneur played by Scarlet Gomez, whose compulsive generosity — to her family, her employees, her community — has quietly consumed her own life and sense of self. The “black tax” theme — the specific, relentless financial and emotional burden placed on successful Nigerians by their extended circles — lands with the precision of a story that knows exactly who it is talking to. The discomfort in packed cinemas was reportedly audible; people laughing, then going quiet as they recognised themselves.

Funke Akindele as the manipulative, entitled sister Adetutu is a revelation — a deliberate shedding of her beloved Jenifa persona in favour of something darker and sharper. Tobi Bakre brings swagger and genuine menace as the opportunistic brother. But this is Gomez’s film. The quietness of her performance — the way she communicates Aderonke’s exhaustion through the smallest adjustments in posture, voice, and eye contact — is some of the most sophisticated screen acting in recent Nigerian cinema history.

The film’s final act has divided critics, with some finding it too neat after the uncomfortable complexity of what preceded it. This reviewer found the emotional release earned — Akindele, as a filmmaker, has always trusted her audiences. That trust is repaid here in full. With the Netflix release approaching, global audiences are about to discover what Nigerian cinemas have known for months: that “Behind the Scenes” is one of the best African films of the decade.

Released during Women’s Month, “Onobiren” is a film that earns its timing. The story of Roli — a young woman from Warri’s fishing communities whose move to Lagos forces her to choose between the path laid out for her and the one she must forge herself — is told with warmth, specificity, and a genuine affection for the culture it depicts. Writer Laju Iren, who has become one of Nollywood’s most important voices for stories about women’s agency and faith, brings the same careful humanity here that distinguished her previous work.

Ruby Akubueze’s lead performance is a revelation for those unfamiliar with her earlier work. Her Roli does not announce herself; she accretes. The film resists making Roli’s journey heroic in the conventional sense — there is no single dramatic turning point, no triumphant speech, just a gradual, earned accumulation of self-knowledge. That is its particular strength and, for some viewers, its challenge. Bisola Aiyeola in a supporting role brings her usual impeccable comic timing, and Patience Ozokwor’s presence adds the gravitational weight only a few performers of her generation can provide.

Of significant cultural note is media personality Chude Jideonwo making his acting debut here. The role suits him — it does not demand range so much as presence and authenticity, both of which he delivers. The film’s release across both Nigeria and Ghana marks a quiet but meaningful step toward a more genuinely pan-West African cinema distribution model.