Suya and Suspicion: Netflix’s“The Party” Is That Good

There’s a certain way you know a film is about to carry you—it’s when halfway through, you pause not to check your phone, but to reward the experience with food. That’s what happened to me 30 minutes into The Party. I found myself driving to Glover Court and dropping 10k on tozo suya. That’s how I knew something different was happening.

Set during a glamorous Lagos gathering, The Party opens with the unexpected fall—and death—of Bobo, the troubled son of a wealthy family. It’s sharp, it’s cinematic, and the tension begins the moment his body hits the water. Everyone at the party watches in disbelief, and their split-second reactions tell you everything you need to know about who’s who in the room. The shock isn’t just written into the script; it’s built into the atmosphere.

The beauty of this series is how it wears its Nigerianess boldly. From the wailing mother, encircled by her social clique, to the calculating father trying to contain the damage without breaking down—it’s all so real. No pretentious gloss. Even the clueless housemaid who starts cleaning up blood because it’s her job—that tiny choice reveals more about her world than a full scene of dialogue could. These are not characters trying to fit into a Western frame. They are ours, and they are alive.

And what’s a murder mystery without sound? A good one will use silence like a weapon and music like a scalpel. The sound design here does just that. It heightens, it breathes, it warns you. The music doesn’t overpower—it underlines. This is the kind of emotional layering Nollywood has long ignored, but The Party embraces fully.

It’s not only the technical parts that shine. The acting, frankly, is stellar. Bimbo Manuel and Shaffy Bello—there’s a scene near the end where a family secret erupts between them, and it’s not fireworks—it’s an emotional earthquake. Madam Bankole also walks onto the screen with the same commanding energy she brought to Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti and Adire. You just know she’s about to deliver. And she does.

The casting was clearly intentional. You can tell these actors weren’t chosen just for star power. They were chosen for what they could bring to each moment, and that thoughtfulness pays off. Even the improvisations—those improvised lines that either break or make a film—are done with care here. Nothing pulls you out of the world.

What also deserves praise is the way language dances in the film. In Nigeria, we don’t speak in just one tongue—we float between them. Yoruba here, English there, sometimes both in the same breath. The dialogue in The Party flows with that same ease, never feeling forced. It feels like Lagos.

And let’s talk about that cinematography. The camera doesn’t just observe—it glides, it zooms in at the right moment, it knows where the tension lives. The lighting is intentional, never wasted. The editing respects the viewer’s time, keeping the pace tight but never rushed.

But it’s the story’s curiosity that keeps you locked in. One episode down, and you’re already asking: What did Moruntayo do to Bobo? You’re not even sure she did anything, but the whispers, the looks, the layered tension make you wonder. Is she a narcissist? A witch? Or just a principled woman trapped in a boiling pot of judgment? Every character around her has something to say, and none of it feels random.

Bobo’s life becomes a warning: privilege without wisdom is a curse. The film doesn’t preach—it shows. A reckless lifestyle, unexamined friendships, secret families—it all adds up to a fatal moment. You watch it all unfold, and it stings, not just because it’s dramatic, but because it’s true.

Still, no film is perfect. There’s one major flaw: visible CCTV cameras at the scene are never used in the investigation. Not once. Instead, the detectives depend on suspect interviews, which slightly dents the believability of the case’s handling. But even with that gap, the film holds its power.

The Party is more than just a good time. It’s a statement. A reminder that Nollywood is capable of gripping, intelligent thrillers with heart, humor, and craft. It doesn’t copy, it doesn’t perform for the West—it reflects us, in all our layered, chaotic, beautiful glory. And best of all, it keeps you guessing, even though the answer was right there, in plain sight.

Now streaming on Netflix.