The trailer promised tension. The opening delivered it. But somewhere between the second wine glass and the final frame, The Party settled into the realm of comfortable intrigue rather than thrilling suspense. This limited mini-series, lasting just over two hours in total, introduces a whodunit premise that’s well-contained, well-produced, and moderately engaging. Directed with visual coordination and backed by a sharp ensemble cast, the show doesn’t entirely commit to edge-of-your-seat pacing. Still, it holds enough curiosity to keep you watching.

Truths, Toasts, and Twists: The Mechanics of the Murder Mystery

The Party kicks off with a birthday toast. Moments later, the celebrant, Akinbobola (Kunle Remi), known to many as Bobo, is found lifeless in a swimming pool. A socialite dies at his own party, and everyone in the room becomes a suspect. The format follows a traditional whodunit structure, relying on flashbacks and shifting narratives to gradually peel away the lies, jealousy, and personal motives circling the victim. This structure is cleanly executed, even if it occasionally slips into melodrama.

By grounding each episode in perspective-driven storytelling, the series leans on the Rashomon effect, a narrative device where events are relayed through different, and sometimes contradictory, accounts. This was done sparingly. While this technique enriches some characters, such as the unpredictable neighbour Alhaji (Femi Branch), whose moral ambiguity deepens depending on who’s watching him, it flattens others, especially when the plot insists on turning obvious setups into late-game reveals. One such example is the two wine glasses—a dead giveaway that made the final twist easy to anticipate.

Framing Guilt, Deflecting Blame

Much of the second episode builds around a character assassination orchestrated by Bobo’s parents, played by Shaffy Bello and Bimbo Manuel. Kehinde Bankole’s Motunrayo, the grieving wife, becomes the prime suspect by suggestion rather than fact. The emotional realism in Bello’s performance, highlighted by subtle choices like smudged eye makeup under raw, tear-reddened eyes, feels compelling. In contrast, Bimbo Manuel’s performance is rigid and redundant, with awkward self-translation of Yoruba dialogue that disrupts flow. His character’s loud and suspicious behaviour remains unchecked in the script, which undermines the intelligence of other investigators.

One of the show’s more frustrating flaws lies in its treatment of logic and sound. A “private” conversation between the grieving parents and the lead detective Moshood (Yomi Fash-Lanso) is staged in a room that—based on an edit—appears to be separate. But the next cut reveals they were never alone. Yet, somehow, no one hears the loud scheming happening within earshot. It’s these gaps in mise en scène continuity and auditory realism that dull the story’s believability.

Performances, Power Plays, and Perspective

Casting was solid. Femi Branch’s Alhaji is a standout; complex, unbothered, humorous, and at times, dangerous. He owns every scene he enters. Kunle Remi plays Bobo with enough mystery that his unreadable disposition suits the role. Whether this was a performance choice or a gap in direction is unclear, especially when his nonchalance after his infidelity is revealed feels slightly unearned. Bankole, on the other hand, balances vulnerability and defiance, creating one of the more layered portrayals.

Etim, a secondary investigator played by a younger actor, is a mixed bag. His gum-chewing persona makes him instantly unlikeable, and though he redeems himself with his loyalty to a partner with a troubled past, his presence adds more tonal confusion than substance. Still, the way the partner’s trauma is introduced through non-verbal sound cues and fragmented memory, a rare use of auditory storytelling, is one of the film’s more intelligent techniques.

Composition Over Shock: When Vision Outpaces Drama

From a technical standpoint, The Party is impressive. Camera angles, compositions, and transitions are used smartly to reinforce tone. The cinematography enhances genre without trying too hard. The interrogation sequences are especially well-framed, heightening tension even when the dialogue falls flat. This isn’t a case of style over substance, the style actually adds to the experience. But the substance doesn’t always rise to meet it. The look and feel also matches the genre.

Despite these strengths, the ending falters. While the filmmakers seemed to know exactly how they wanted it to look, they didn’t know how to close it. Questions linger—not because they’re supposed to, but because they were never properly addressed. What was the killer’s true motive? Why was a key clue overlooked by every detective except the audience? This lack of resolution turns what could have been a tight, elegant finish into a shrug for a cliffhanger teasing for a potential season.

Final Thoughts: Drama, Bias, and a Hint of the Familiar

What The Party offers is a drama comedy dressed as a thriller, one that hints at deeper commentary about power, class, and credibility within Nigerian society. It never quite weaponises these themes in a way that truly stings, but it gestures toward them, and that matters. The film taps into the idea that wealth can cloud judgment, and that grief can be performative when self-interest is at stake.

However, there’s also an underlying irony that makes the whole thing feel more performative than penetrating. The film’s biggest twist is not who committed the crime, but how casually everyone else tries to deflect from it. It is a quiet reminder that justice in a world like this often serves convenience over truth. The show gives us a murder mystery, yes, but also a glimpse into the theatre of mourning and the politics of blame. Just don’t expect it to linger too long after the final frame.

Verdict

The Party massive upgrade on all Nollywood’s murder-mystery since Kunle Afolayan’s October 1. A stylish whodunit with better direction than deduction. Watchable and enjoyable, but it leaves you with more sighs than shocks.

Rating: 3/5