Kemi Adetiba returns to the screen with To Kill A Monkey, her first project outside the King of Boys universe since 2018. Long teased and highly anticipated, this eight-part Netflix series is a tense, emotionally-charged thriller that explores how desperation, power, and grief intersect in modern Nigeria.

A Web of Desperation and Conflict

The plot follows Efe, a desperate family man whose financial struggles ultimately leads him to Oboz, an old acquaintance and cybercrime kingpin. As he gets drawn into this dark world, his values are repeatedly tested. Running parallel to his story is that of Inspector Mo, a grieving police officer who throws herself into an investigation that uncovers the inner workings of Oboz’s syndicate. The tension between these two arcs is the beating heart of the series.

Kemi Adetiba crafts the narrative with intention, never wasting a moment. The storylines feed into each other organically, and even the minor plot threads—Mo’s trauma, Amanda’s seduction, Nosa’s growing mistrust—are purposeful, adding to the eventual emotional and narrative payoff. While the show occasionally leans on convenient plot twists, such as Mo’s conveniently timed discoveries, the pacing and interconnected character dynamics maintain a compelling flow.

The dialogue is natural, rich, vulgar and heavy. Attention is also paid to several subtle details. For example, the play on how Efe calls Oboz “Boss” or “Bro” at his convenience.

A Story of Slippery Morals and Convenient Fate

There’s no denying the story’s ambition. It’s a cautionary tale about compromise and consequence, with strong themes on greed and betrayal, yet there are moments where the writing opts for the convenient rather than the complex. Mo’s investigation often unfolds through overly neat developments—finding one of Oboz’s cells just as new recruits arrive, Amanda’s betrayal arriving like clockwork, and the final nail of Efe’s downfall coming far too easily.

Mo’s side story and world building is feel like a waste of time because the only way it’s relevant to the story is because she conveniently remembers Efe in a hospital on the worst day of her life. Her perseverance and efforts to stop Efe and Oboz warrants a stronger motivation. She risked so much to solve the case but we don’t understand why.

Still, these conveniences don’t significantly undercut the overall tension. Mo’s frequent pushback from her boss adds some realism to balance out her apparent clairvoyance. And while Amanda’s final betrayal feels inevitable, the emotional fallout from Efe’s choices, particularly in his relationships with Nosa and Ivie, carries enough weight to keep the viewers invested.

Performances That Command Attention

The cast of To Kill A Monkey is one of its greatest strengths. William Benson is exceptional as Efe, portraying his transformation from a desperate, broken man to a morally compromised figure with subtle intensity. You feel every crack in his façade as his world collapses, especially in quieter moments like his shower breakdown after Oboz’s death.

Bucci Franklin, as Oboz, brings a magnetic blend of charm and menace. His portrayal, especially when the character is high or unhinged, adds unpredictability to the screen. His final moments, when he realises Efe’s betrayal, are a highlight— emotional, gutting and impactful. Lilian Afegbai shines as Idia, Stella Damasus unsurprisingly brings depth to Nosa, particularly in her emotionally raw confrontation with Efe after seeing him with Amanda.

Bimbo Akintola’s grief-stricken performance as Mo early in the series reminds us why she remains one of the industry’s most dependable hands, while Sunshine Rosman surprises as Amanda, offering one of her most nuanced performances yet.

Visual Style and Technical Precision

Adetiba’s directorial choices elevate the storytelling. The visual effects is appreciable, giving the series a cinematic edge. The score, composed by Oscar Herman-Akcah, seamlessly integrates tension and emotion. But it doesn’t always compliment the genre of the show and sounds a little too soapy for a crime thriller. Some scenes like the club/lounge/bar suffers from the absence of popular/licensed music. This could have added some sort of believability and authenticity.

Cinematography is intentional throughout. From the opening crate scene where Efe’s frustrations simmer in a chaotic warehouse to the dynamic power-play shots between Efe and Oboz, visual cues reinforce the shifting balance of power. The use of perspective, particularly during confrontations—shooting Oboz from a low angle to establish dominance early on, then reversing it later to highlight Efe’s rise—adds a layer of visual storytelling that’s both thoughtful and effective.

The emotional weight of scenes like Mo’s flashbacks or Efe’s internal struggle in the rain is underscored by the camera’s lingering, patient gaze. Even the fight sequences and moments of domestic tension are framed in ways that escalate the drama without relying too heavily on exposition.

Final Thoughts

Beyond its core plot, To Kill A Monkey offers commentary on power, exploitation, and survival. Efe’s initial encounter with his manipulative boss highlights an important, often under explored issue: men being sexually harassed for opportunities. These moments ground the story in uncomfortable truths, reflecting the many ways people are exploited in desperate circumstances.

Unfortunately for a film on cyber crime, we barely see “cyber crime”. The characters spend more time talking about successful scams than actually showing us the process of scamming.

Kemi Adetiba also continues her tradition of crafting compelling opposition. Much like in King of Boys, where Eniola Salami was complemented by Inspector Gobir, To Kill A Monkey balances Efe’s moral erosion with Mo’s ethical rigidity. Their intersecting lives—first in the hospital, later on opposite sides of the law—mirror the classic battle between justice and self-preservation.

Not every reveal lands with equal weight. Amanda and Onome’s betrayals are predictable, and Mo’s dream-memory connection to Efe feels like a stretch. Yet, the emotional arcs are solid, and by the time the final betrayals unfold, the viewer is too entangled to turn away.

At 8 episodes long, the show is very much bloated with exposition. The story would have been effectively told as a four part series or two part movie.

Verdict

Yet again, Kemi Adetiba manages to create a motion picture that influences pop culture. To Kill A Monkey is a strong, gripping offering, filled with well-executed performances, sharp direction, and emotionally resonant storytelling. While it occasionally relies on plot conveniences and soapy score. its visual flair and character-driven tension make it a thoroughly engaging watch. It earns itself a 3.95 rating from us and proves that Adetiba’s voice remains essential in Nollywood’s evolving landscape.

Rating: 3.95/5