Stream It Or Skip It: ‘House of Ga’a’ on Netflix, an Epic Nigerian Saga About a Power-Mad Politico in the Oyo Empire

House of Ga’a (now on Netflix) finds Nollywood going BOATS (Based On A True Story) on us: Bolanle Austen-Peters directs a biographical drama about Ga’a, whose station as a nobleman and military hero in the Oyo Empire during the 18th century is quite the power-corrupts saga. A little context: Oyo was the home of the Yoruba people, and now is part of the countries of Nigeria, Benin and Yorubaland. Ga’a wasn’t a king, but a kingmaker, a crucial figure who held significant political influence in the empire – and he’s the subject of this classic rise-rule-and-fall epic that intermingles history and legend in fascinating fashion.

HOUSE OF GA’A: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Their differences will not be settled with words. Warriors of the Yoruba stand across from those of the Nupe Kingdom – and there’s the brutal clash of swords, spears and shields. Yoruba military leader Ga’a (Oluwanifemi Lawal) leads his men to victory, and is greeted with a hero’s welcome when he returns home with the opposition king’s head in his hands. His successful campaigns earn him the title of Bashorun – a Prime Minister of sorts – of the Oyo Empire, a powerful post that situates him at the head of the Oyo Mesi, the seven-man council that selects kings. It’s a post that feeds his hunger for power, which seems insatiable.

Ga’a’s son Oyemekun (Mike Afolarin) narrates this story as someone privy to, but not necessarily aligned with his father. Some years go by, and Ga’a is now played by Femi Branch. Oye’s older brother Olaotan (Jide “JBlaze” Oyegbile) is a fierce warrior, the head of Ga’a’s army. While Oye is off training to become a warrior himself, he isn’t privy to his father’s abuses of power: He mercilessly pulls strings to have kings killed and replaced. He fires people in key political positions and replaces them with his own family members. He enrages his harem by selecting a beautiful young Nupe slave woman, Zeinab (Tosin Adeyemi), to be his sex servant; she tells him he can have her body but not her heart, and he kicks her out of his bedroom. And most cruelly, Ga’a allows his brother to marry Agbonyin (Bridget Nkem), whom Oye is in love with.

Oye’s homecoming is joyous until he hears the news. He doubts his father’s moral standing. Ga’a feuds with the current king, who suggests a clash of warriors in celebration of Agbonyin’s wedding – and the crestfallen Oye volunteers to battle the hulking behemoth in the king’s employ, and barely survives to continue the narration. Zeinab finally opens her heart to Ga’a, albeit warily. Legend rears its head as Ga’a uses a supernatural spell – courtesy his witch doctor Sasa (Ibrahim Chatta) – to kill the king, but awakens the next morning mysteriously paralyzed, his arms and legs useless and limp. Even in his crippled state, he does his damnedest to keep a firm grip on his power, but the kingdom’s loyalty to him is slipping. And so is Oye’s. 

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: We Westerners will be inclined to label House of Ga’a as Shakespearean in scope – it takes bits of Julius Caesar or Richard III and tosses them into a time and place similar to The Woman King (which is set in Dahomey, part of the Oyo Empire). 

Performance Worth Watching: With his earnest portrayal of Oye, Afolarin is our emotional entryway into this saga, and is crucial to our involvement in the film’s dramatic stakes.

Memorable Dialogue: Ga’a illustrates the size of his ego with this self-declaration: “I am the elephant!”

Sex and Skin: Female toplessness; one not particularly sexy sex scene.

Our Take: It’s easy to be impressed by the scope and ambition of House of Ga’a, which is essentially a politically driven drama spiked with a love story and the occasional brutal burst of violence. Austen-Peters seems to be focused on portraying this saga with clarity – Ga’a was situated within a complex political hierarchy that proved to be vulnerable to his array of overt and underhanded power-grabs, and the director ably illustrates how he exploits the system for his own gain. (Note for anyone not familiar with the Oyo Empire’s fascinating political system: a quick perusal of Wikipedia will make your viewing experience feel a little less overwhelming.)

The weak points of the Oyo Empire’s intricate political structure is the subtext of the story; the text itself is the stuff of Greek drama, with a powermad figure betraying his own family members and resorting to literal voodoo in order to maintain his authoritative grip. The film finds itself neck-deep in over-emoted melodrama at times, and indulges a bit of strange comedy in a scene where Ga’a’s drunken brother assaults Agbonyin, and she comes precariously close to wholly emasculating him with a knife. (In a word: Yipes!) But generally speaking, Ga’a’s sprawling, multifaceted narrative holds together quite well under Austen-Peters’ eye, resulting in one of Netflix’s stronger Nollywood offerings to date.

Our Call: STREAM IT. House of Ga’a shows a few seams here and there, but ultimately holds up to the standards of epic storytelling.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.