01/02/2025
My Review Of Atiko.
Some movies entertain, others enter your soul and refuse to leave. Biodun Stephen’s Atiko doesn’t just sit comfortably in the middle; it stretches its legs and claims the whole space. This is more than a film—it’s like someone wrapped Yoruba spirituality, family drama, and life’s biggest “what ifs” in a giant emotional agbada and told you to hold it while crying.
But don’t let me get ahead of myself. Let’s gist properly, yeah? 😅
When Atiko started, I thought, “Ah, another story about love and sacrifice.” But ten minutes in, my popcorn was forgotten. This movie had me asking questions like: “If I was Ajoke or Lape, would I really make those sacrifices?” Spoiler alert: probably not. The story follows these two lifelong friends as they try to sidestep a dire prophecy, only to realize that destiny is like that stubborn Wi-Fi connection—it keeps reconnecting whether you like it or not.
Honestly, the emotional tension in Atiko is thicker than Egusi soup with too much melon. From the strained mother-son dynamics to the secrets weighing on everyone’s conscience, the drama was drama-ing. But some parts felt like gist that got cut short—like Busola’s miscarriages and Karen’s role in Aderopo’s life. Who exactly is Karen? Is she a love interest, a concerned neighbor, or just the “extra” in Aderopo’s story? We may never know.
Let’s talk about that shrine scene. The visuals? On point. The tension? Mad. But how do grown men forget something like that? Were they given memory-wiping egusi or what? Baba Tapa (played by Ibrahim Chatta) commands the scene so well that I felt like he could break the fourth wall and scold me for breathing too loud. Honestly, I found myself clutching my chair like, “Baba, I dey loyal o!”
But that plot gap? E choke.
Ibrahim Chatta as Baba Tapa—this man no be anybody mate. From his voice to his subtle movements, everything screamed authenticity. I half expected him to chant my family’s oriki during the film. And Mr. Macaroni? I have to respect the versatility. Who knew the same guy who says “You’re doing well!” could have me blinking back tears with his emotional depth? The scene where he begs his mother to accept his gift? Omo, my eyes were not dry.
Deyemi Okanlawon’s Aderopo gave off that quiet “I’m calculating, but I won’t shout” energy, while the mothers—Bimbo Oshin and Adediwura Gold—brought layers of love, pain, and sacrifice that had me thinking, “Will I ever repay my mum for all she’s done?” The younger versions of Ajoke and Lape, played by Modola Osifuwa and Bolaji Ogunmola, laid the groundwork beautifully. But Karen? We need answers, biko.
If you’ve ever been to a Yoruba village, Atiko nails that vibe. From the earthy tones to the natural lighting, the scenes look like they were pulled straight out of a memory. Anthill Studios deserves a shoutout for how they made Baba Tapa’s shrine look both terrifying and fascinating.
The soundtrack, though? Perfection. It’s like the music carried a direct message to my soul: “Feel everything.” And I did.
Atiko is not perfect—it has its flaws. Some subplots felt rushed, like that scene where Ajoke discovers Lape’s death. They should have let the silence stretch, you know? Give us time to absorb the heartbreak. But even with its rough edges, the film’s themes—fate versus ambition, sacrifice versus self-preservation—hit hard.
Whether you’re in it for the cultural depth, the emotional rollercoaster, or just to see Ibrahim Chatta own his role like a king, Atiko is worth your time. Sure, it stumbles a bit, but the story stays with you, like an old folk tale that keeps revealing new lessons each time you hear it.
It’s not perfect, but it slaps in all the right places. Go and watch it—and maybe bring a tissue or two.
Rating: 3.5/5.
