Wednesday, 24 September 2014
My Two Kobos: Half Of A Yellow Sun-The Movie
I have always admired Chimamanda Adichie's ability to weave stories steeped in historical truths so well researched. I have even, in moments of envy, wished I were her. So you can imagine how excited I was to finally get to watch Half Of A Yellow Sun.
DH wanted to watch something else that day on the TV but I bullied him into watching whatever it was on his phone.
So armed with the remote, I stretched out on the settee, covered myself with my favourite throw and wished I had some pop corn.
The movie started on a slow note. It didn't pull me in immediately as I had anticipated it would. I stifled a yawn as I waited for that part of the movie that would do the magic for me. Well, it never happened.
For some reason I just couldn't make any connection with the characters. I didn't know them well enough; didn't even feel sorry for all the trouble they went through. It almost felt like the film was just being acted out because it was after-all the prize winning Half of A Yellow Sun as opposed to being a story that had soul and depth and needed to be dramatized so well viewers would get lost in it. Just like the way we recited our crammed multiplication tables in primary school, not because we loved them but because we didn't want our teachers' scorn and bulala.
I remember watching 12 Years A Slave. Now that was some story. It pulled me in, left me angry, let me sad...simply messed up my mood.
I am afraid Half Of A Yellow Sun didn't do that for me. If anything, I awakened to find out the movie was still playing. So I got up, gathered my sleepy self, put off the TV and went to bed.
While I don't think Biyi Bandele did the book much justice, he still should be applauded. E didnt easy ma peepul.