The Legend of the Underground movie review (2021)

To explore the political and cultural struggle in Nigeria, Onuorah and Bailey focus on a coterie of charismatic campaigners. Mikael Ighodaro, a gay Nigerian man living in New York City, left his home country to escape the violent wave of homophobia. There, it’s not only gay sex that’s outlawed, but so are meeting places for gay people such as parties. To practice consensual sex in safety, the community often code switches: going to “the market” means you’re hookin up; “TB” is another way to ask if you’re gay; “Kitto” means you’re scandalous. This community exists underground, forever in danger of the next police raid, the extended jail sentence, the succeeding death threat.   

The African country, as the subjects explain, operates under a machismo culture wherein men are expected to stand, walk, and talk a certain way. Nigeria’s LGBTQIA population, however, often challenges these reductive definitions of masculinity. In one sequence, a pageant called “Mr. Ideal Nigeria” featuring classically muscular men upends such toxic standards of what makes a man. Other instances that accomplish the same feat include Mikael visiting a catwalk class, and the film’s multiple lyrical dance sequences. Shot in slow-motion, enveloped in red and blue neon lighting, the men display a combination of powerfully assured movements and whiplashing gyrations that encapsulate their unflinching existence.        

Especially James Brown. A flamboyant dancer and sharp crossdresser, he was among 57 men in 2018 who were arrested following a police raid on a hotel party. Brown became famous after his defiant phrase “they didn’t caught me” went viral. In showing this magnetic dancer, the directors explore the factions within Nigeria’s LGBTQIA movement. Some activists wonder aloud if Brown is exercising his newfound fame constructively for the cause or recklessly under the guise of self-promotion for a fascinatingly relevant discussion of internet stardom. We also watch as Brown grapples with his roles as spokesman and the public enemy of homophobes. Onuorah and Bailey astutely raise the presence of classism: that is, with money and fortune, there’s slightly more freedom to express one’s individuality than if you’re poor.