At a time when Hollywood seems torn between its promises to fix historical exclusion and its comfort with existing conservatism, there’s rightly a lot going on in The Woman King, Gina Prince-Bythewood’s action film inspired by female warriors of the Kingdom of Dahomey in pre-colonial Benin. It doesn’t help that the film also had a well-documented, arduous journey from concept to screen, facing rejection and skepticism at every turn. Ahead of its premiere at this year’s Toronto Film Festival, one could feel the nervous buzz among audience members shuffling dutifully into their assigned seats.
But by the end of the opening sequence, a kinetic stretch in which blades cut flesh and fists collided with faces, it was clear that the Female King would be greeted by a generous reception. Energetic performances and technical precision combine to glorious effect in Prince-Bythewood’s thrilling action film. It’s a rich, primal piece of entertainment in many ways.
The Female King
The Bottom Line Narratively muddled, but entertaining and technically brilliant.
Venue: Toronto International Film Festival (Celebration Presentation) Release Date: Friday, September 16 Starring: Viola Davis, Sucho Mbedu, Lashana Lynch, Sheila Atim, Hero Fiennes Tiffin, John Boyega Director: Gina Prince-Bythewood Screenwriter: Dana Stevens PG- 13, Rated 2 hours 6 minutes
But as a product of Hollywood, working in the American cinematic lexicon, The King’s Wife, for all its good intentions, nevertheless falls into the expected pitfalls of melodrama and murky story. Perhaps these flaws will be the subject of later debates, when The Female King stimulates passionate critical discourse—the kind that leads to an enthusiastic drive to explore the African continent’s rich pre-colonial history or abundant present-day narratives.
Among the film’s key strengths is an ensemble of high-octane stellar turns, especially from Viola Davis. The Oscar-winning actress, known for digging into the soul of her characters, accesses an impressive level of emotional depth and nuance as Nanisca, leader of the Agojie.
Her character is familiar in its complexity: a ruthless, protective leader plagued by a reflexive defensiveness. Nanisca loves women in her shape, whom she refers to as sisters, but struggles to embrace different ideas. This attitude makes her relationship with Agojie’s newest recruit, Nawi (a sharp Sucho Mbedu), difficult at first. The two often butt heads as the young fighter questions repeatedly why certain rules – lifelong celibacy, for example – still exist. Mbedu, Barry Jenkins’ Underground Railroad gem, shines as Nawi, a teenage girl sent to join the Agojie after her father abandons plans to marry her off.
The training of the newest cohort of fighters frames the first half of The Woman King, which takes great care to paint a detailed portrait of Agojie’s life in the Kingdom of Dahomey. These scenes, in addition to the action sequences, showcase the crisp production and costume designs of Akin McKenzie and Gersha Phillips. We see the younger women practicing within the terracotta walls of the palace, running laps through the surrounding high meadows, and fighting each other to improve their tactical skills. There is also a palpable energy between these women, young and old. In Amenza (Sheila Atim), Nanisca has a devoted friend. in Izogie (a wonderful Lashana Lynch), Nawi finds comfort and a much-needed reality check. These montages are supported by Terence Blanchard’s exuberant score.
The meticulous set design and triumphant soundscape combine to create a captivating, arcane narrative about the protection and moral expansion of an empire—if there is such a thing. But Dana Stevens’ screenplay, based on Maria Bello’s story, tries to balance several competing and not always consistent plotlines over the course of two hours. The Woman King begins as a portrait and then surrenders to melodrama when faced with the challenges of translating the story for the screen and constructing a coherent geopolitical thread.
The origins of the Agojie are not reliably documented, but scholars suspect that their unit was born out of necessity: The Dahomey, known for their strategic warfare and slave raids, dealt with the attrition of young men by recruiting women into military ranks. any unmarried woman could be conscripted. The Woman King does not flesh out the origin story, but acknowledges and attempts to address the kingdom’s involvement in the enslavement of other Africans.
Taking a pseudo-Pan-African turn, the film casts Nanisca in the role of dissenter. With the nation going to war with the neighboring kingdom of Oyo, to which they have paid tribute for decades, General Agojie urges King Ghezo (John Boyega) to consider the future of Dahomey. He argues with him about the immorality of selling their own people to the Portuguese and suggests that the kingdom turn to palm oil production for trade. Gezo is not convinced, fearing that the change would lead to the death of the kingdom. Naniska begs him not to trust the colonists.
The Female King moves between the war with the Oyo, the wider battle against the encroaching slave trade and Agojie’s internal drama. Nanisca’s intuition proves correct, but a recurring nightmare forces her to wrestle with her own demons as well. The general must consider the weight of her ambitions to become a Female King, a title bestowed by Gezo in Dahomey tradition, and her past.
As the war with Oyo deepens and the battle scenes become more intense, The Woman King digs its heels into familiar dramatic beats, leaning into universal themes of love, community and clear moralism. For a crowd-pleasing saga—think Braveheart with Black women—this combination is more than enough.
