Son of Iron, directed by Tunde Olaoye, begins with a promising spark. Ricardo Okey Agbor plays Ogunrotimi (Rotimi), a young man determined to break away from his family’s generations-old blacksmith trade and become a lawyer.
The title itself feels like wordplay: a “son of iron” who wants to forge his own path. Years later, the story shifts to Rotimi’s son Kunle, who experiences spiritual visitations from his late grandfather and discovers a natural gift for metalwork.
Son of Iron
Directed by; Tunde Olaoye
Produced by: Adedayo Adekeye
Genre: Drama
Language: English/Yoruba
Two Generations, One Flat Visual Language
The film opens with young Rotimi rejecting his father’s anvil for the courtroom. We follow his stubborn journey and eventual hardship as a husband and father. Years later, teenage Kunle discovers he has an almost supernatural ease with iron and machinery. Visions of his grandfather praise this gift and encourage him to embrace it. Rotimi, scarred by his own failed rebellion, tries everything to steer Kunle away from blacksmithing (and its modern stand-in, electrical repairs).
School scenes, family arguments, and spiritual visitations fill the middle stretch. The final act forces both father and son to confront whether Rotimi’s lifelong resistance was wisdom or wasted pride, and whether Kunle’s attraction to the forge is genuine calling or inherited curse.
Freedom or Fatalism?
A father who broke tradition now fights to keep his son from doing the opposite. The cycle of control (grandfather → Rotimi → Kunle) could have been powerful, but it does something else. Early scenes and the title itself suggest “a son of iron can forge his own future.” By the end, the message flips: resisting your bloodline is futile and punishing. Rotimi’s decades of struggle are framed as self-inflicted because he refused his destiny. Kunle’s acceptance, meanwhile, brings success.
The film tackles the classic conflict between personal ambition and family obligation. Every viewer recognises the pressure to become a doctor, lawyer, or engineer while parents dismiss creative or manual paths as failure. Early scenes suggest the story might champion individual choice: Rotimi rejects the anvil, Kunle secretly loves it. Yet by the end, the narrative punishes Rotimi for his rebellion.
His legal dreams collapse, he struggles for decades, and only prospers once he returns (indirectly) to metalwork through generator repairs. Kunle, who embraces the gift, thrives. The closing impression is clear: trying to escape your “destiny” is stubborn foolishness.
Performances Trapped in Amateur Territory
Sola Sobowale delivers warmth and perfectly timed comic relief that actually earned genuine laughter in the cinema. The film contains a number of recognisable names (Jide Kosoko, Debo Adedayo, Funky Mallam and Tina Mba) appear for minutes at a time. Adult actors playing secondary-school students are painfully miscast; they tower over real pupils used as extras, destroying any illusion of adolescence. School scenes descend into caricature: a principal (Debo Adedayo) spouting fake “old-school” sarcasm, a classmate turned cartoon villain because Kunle called him tone-deaf.
Even supposedly dramatic moments are undercut by overacting and random “dramatic stings” where Kunle freezes for no clear reason. The young actors playing Kunle and his peers struggle with exaggerated delivery that no real teenager would use.
Technical Aspects
At almost two-and-a-half hours, the pacing is punishing. Flashbacks are presented in basic black-and-white and include irrelevant sequences the characters could not possibly recall (a lawyer typing alone, random dancing). Dream sequences nest inside flashbacks. Transitions between Rotimi’s and Kunle’s timelines are abrupt, with no distinct visual language to separate generations.
Unnecessary shots abound: a lingering close-up of a foot stopping because a ghost says “stop,” random dramatic freezes accompanied by loud stings, prolonged children’s marching songs. The low budget is visible in every frame, from mismatched school uniforms to obvious adult actors playing teenagers who tower over real students used as extras.
Music occasionally tries to carry thematic weight with choruses about guidance and destiny, but it cannot rescue the sluggish pace. Every technical decision feels like first-draft filmmaking: unnecessary shots, inconsistent tone, and a final twist where Rotimi’s estranged wife returns the moment success arrives, a cheap, tacked-on flourish that adds nothing except irritation.
Final Thoughts
Son of Iron taps into a conversation every Nigerian family has had: whose dreams matter more, yours or your parents’? That emotional core is real and relatable.
A tighter script, honest casting, clearer visual storytelling, and a braver stance on personal agency could have turned it into something meaningful. Instead, technical clumsiness, bloated runtime, and a final message that essentially punishes ambition leave it feeling regressive and exhausting
Verdict
Son of Iron will speak to viewers who recognise the family arguments and can overlook amateur execution.
Most will find the pacing, acting, and unclear conclusion more tiring than rewarding.
Rating: 1.8/5
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