Thicker Than Water grips with a sister’s desperate search, blending drama and supernatural horror into a psychological drama in a Nigerian setting.

The tagline, “Sometimes, the people we’re searching for are the ones who leave behind the most haunting secrets. How far would you go to find the ones you love?” sets a tone of familial dread and escalating peril, the story a tense exploration of bonds tested by dark revelations.

Directed by Yomi E. Adejumo, executive produced by BB Sasore, produced by Joshua Enakarhire, with cinematography by Daanong Dwain, the film follows Ese (Adaobi Dibor), a photojournalist uncovering her estranged sister Onome’s (Bimbo Ademoye) disappearance through a journal exposing ritual killings and eerie forces.

Shadows of Unspoken Bonds

The emotional core of Thicker Than Water lies in Ese’s descent into her sister’s hidden world, her investigation a psychological spiral from curiosity to terror. Onome’s journal entries reveal a life of unspoken pain, her marriage to Ola, and a facade of normalcy masking deeper horrors. Ese’s professional resolve cracks under the journal’s revelations, her own past with Onome—flashed in smooth transitions from childhood drawings to stormy present—stirring guilt and determination.

The story probes Nigeria’s cultural undercurrents, ritual killings a metaphor for societal shadows that devour the vulnerable, its subtext layered through deliberate framing that hints at unsaid fears. This introspective arc builds unease, the protagonist’s subtle reactions inviting viewers to read between lines, resonating for those who value psychological depth yet frustrating when the horror’s grip loosens.

A Search That Twists and Terrorises

Two sisters who were once so close seem to have lost their love. The plot opens with Ese arriving at Onome’s sparse apartment in Ile Agbadami, her sister missing for months, the only clue a journal chronicling Onome’s life. Entries reveal connections to supernatural occurrences. As Ese digs deeper, flashbacks blend seamlessly—childhood drawings of Ese by Onome fading into rainy reality—unveiling Onome’s marriage to Ola and the community’s hidden threats. Kazeem (Taye Arimoro) as the trusty-good-guy, present to assist, and Tiny (Tope Benjamin) emerge as shadowy figures, the investigation escalating to confrontations with ritual forces.

Leads That Ground the Dread

Adaobi Dibor’s Ese delivers a natural subtlety, her restrained reactions—glances at the camera after steamy journal entries—drawing viewers into her unease, a performance that resonates with psychological authenticity. Bimbo Ademoye’s Onome, seen in flashbacks, conveys quiet torment, her drawings of younger Ese (Diana Egwuatu) a poignant touch that evokes familial warmth amid horror.

Taye Arimoro’s Kazeem brings menace, his shadowy presence heightening suspicion, while Tope Benjamin’s Tiny offers fleeting intensity. The ensemble’s simple delivery suits the thriller’s tone, but unnatural moments, like slight camera glances, jar, disrupting immersion. These performances engage, Dibor’s subtlety a standout that rewards viewers seeking depth.

Frames That Whispers Unease

Yomi E. Adejumo’s direction employs deliberate camera techniques and framings that convey more than meets the eye. Cinematography shifts smoothly between past and present, childhood memories blending with rainy reality, the transitions immersive and evocative. Sound design heightens tension, chaotic nature noises underscoring unpleasant undertones. Editing uses cutaways to maintain engagement during long dialogues.

The film excels at placing viewers in Ese’s mind, especially during journal readings. As Ese sits in Onome’s apartment, editing crafts vivid reenactments, showing Onome and Ola in the same room, blending imagination with reality. In one striking moment, Ese breaks the fourth wall, glancing at the camera after a steamy journal entry, pulling us into her shock. Other reenactments occur without this break, maintaining immersion in her psyche. AI-generated visuals in the wise woman’s Yoruba tale of a goddess, a stone, and body-switching feel inauthentic, jarring against real footage. These choices craft a psychological atmosphere, the framing’s subtlety a strength that engages, though AI’s noticeability risks pulling audiences out.

Final Thoughts

There is a particular part that seems funny: why is a character still speaking after he has been shot execution-style with what appears to be a shot gun?

That aside, Thicker Than Water delves into Nigeria’s hidden horrors, where familial bonds confront ritual shadows and supernatural whispers. The film’s layered cues pose a chilling query: can one uncover loved ones’ secrets without losing one’s own grip? Its take on unspoken traumas, from Onome’s journal to Ese’s suspicions, stirs thoughts on societal silence, the ritual ring a symbol of lurking dangers. The deliberate framing invites subtext, rewarding attentive viewers with unease, though the horror’s build risks alienating the hasty.

Nollywood often fuses thriller with supernatural flair, but Adejumo’s subtlety creates space for psychological depth, urging audiences to read between lines. This film stands as a bold probe of sibling ties, its strengths resonating for horror fans, yet its flaws reveal the cost of uneven tension.

Verdict

Thicker Than Water grips those who relish psychological thrillers, its subtext and unease offering tense rewards. There’s certainly a lot to talk about. It suits viewers ready to unpack layers and embrace supernatural hints. This debut is not without flaws but certainly deserves attention, a chilling dive worth the edge-of-seat strain.

Rating: 2.5/5