Entertainment, Opinion

Movie Review: Omoni Oboli's Being Mrs Elliot | By: Joy Isi Bewaji

I was laughing, sighing, wiping tears, oohing-and-aahing. Omoni has outdone herself! Witty conversations, thigh-clapping hilarity, superb cinematography, dazzling performances, crisp and animated. Long before phony friends and Louboutins, pricey rocks and chic makeup… there was love- in all its saccharine delight.
Omoni Oboli’s “Being Mrs. Elliot” parades a cast and a story filled with warmth that leaves the required sweetened after-taste of comedy mixed with romance and a bit of leisurely suspense. The movie borrows our dissatisfaction, curiosities, hopes and hopelessness, and weaves into it the conviction that is true love.

If it ever exists, it was made known in crisp picture when a village traditional doctor (AY Makun) found Mrs. Lara Elliot (Omoni Oboli)-  an accident victim, discovered in the thick of nowhere, away from her life of luxury in the metropolis, and brought into the shed that was to become her new home.

Lara suffers amnesia, but even that could not conceal the discomfort of this lowly living; a prick of sub-consciousness tries to bring back a past that she must reclaim; yet not forthcoming with memory, she decides to relax in the arms of love- spread wide open by AY.

And between bush paths, a rib-tickling love rival in the form of Bimpe (Lepacious Bose), a rotund piece of theatrical belligerence who constantly makes life nightmarish for Lara; but back-slapping humorous for us- the popcorn viewers.

Early on, there were chirpy faux friends and an oh-so handsome husband, Bill Elliot (Majid), with whom marriage had become a tactless chore. Lara Elliot had made the trip to kill the nagging suspicion of a cheating husband- and alas, call it naiveté or stupidity on the part of Bill, his wife catches him beneath Nonye, his Personal Assistant.
No not sex, just a massage- shoulder massage, with oils and sprawling nakedness and sexy lingerie. Lara is still and angry, but finally finds her answers- this marriage is a trifling joke!

(Bill is really just a clueless hot dude, probably the last one on the planet. But looking so good and so sexy in all his cluelessness, you’d be quick to forgive him, staring at those ripped arms… bless!)

But I deviate…so yes…where was I?

Aha! So this leads to a chance encounter with a woman, Fisayo (Uru Eke), who is running away from her present- she just witnessed the death of her fiancé in the hands of political thugs. Hot on her  trail and because fright has its own unique smell, the thugs are sure to find her in the small city, so she makes a run for it and tries to leave town…

Lara Elliot is leaving town too, back to base, after finding her man and his PA on lust conduit.

The two women meet- Lara and Fisayo. Conversation ensues… admiration of the big wedding rock on one’s finger… an exchange… an accident… and their lives create a twist that births mayhem.

“Being Mrs Elliot” is consumed as ardently as chirpy gossip over drinks and friendship, each lending its own colour and mischief. A sweet love story; genuine with a lot of faith.

I was laughing, sighing, wiping tears, oohing-and-aahing. Omoni has outdone herself! Witty conversations, thigh-clapping hilarity, superb cinematography, dazzling performances, crisp and animated.

AY Makun puts up a heart-warming performance, Uru Eke does excellent work with her bit, Lepacious Bose- bless her; she sparkles, hops and glows in her buxom genius!

And there was Imeh Umoh, by far the funniest man in Nollywood! All he need do is bat his eyelid and you’ll be rolling on the floor. A hiccup, a mispronounced word, a passé act, quirky expressions, that shrink-of-a-voice… Umoh who played the cab driver was resplendent; it broke my heart into tiny happy pieces.

Omoni has proven to be a woman of many parts- a great actor and a good director. You will not miss the professional details lurking in the movie- in between phone calls and the expected filtered sounds, for one.

Nollywood is not running out of breath anytime soon; it is not slowing down. Movies like “Being Mrs. Elliot” show us that the race tracks are just being lined- for a marathon.

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