“A challenging and unconventional work, but one that knows exactly what it sets out to achieve.”

“We all put our great futures behind us and settle.”

Over a century ago Virginia Woolf wrote Mrs Dalloway, a novel intended to simply be a description of the world that she saw around her as she navigated her native England during the Edwardian era. Instead, it almost immediately became a cultural sensation, coming to be viewed as one of the first key Modernist texts (particularly due to its unique narrative structure), and a work that has remained relevant, both academically and artistically, for decades. The story of the titular character, an ordinary woman who finds herself on the other side of middle age and, as a result, is plunged into a state of existential despair, all of which is contained in a single day as she makes her way through her surroundings in preparation for a dinner party she is hosting, has left an indelible cultural impression. The novel has been the inspiration for a number of works (both direct adaptations and those which are merely influenced by it), and one of the most recent forays into Woolf’s captivating story comes in the form of Clarissa, the adaptation written and directed by Arie and Chuko Esiri, the twin filmmakers who previously caught the attention of global audiences with their moving Eyimofe: This Is My Desire. They have now set their sights on something broader and more ambitious, taking an iconic novel and redefining it in an entirely new social and cultural context. It results in a film that succeeds enormously in reworking this novel into something that is just as resonant and compelling as the source material, but where certain additions introduce layers of meaning to an already fascinating story.

The question of what makes an effective adaptation is always a point of discussion, and there is no clear criterion for what constitutes a successful transition from the page to the screen, with every individual viewer having their own opinion on how these works should ultimately be assessed. This has led to a divide between those who believe that an adaptation needs to be entirely faithful to the source material, and others who tend to be a bit more lenient, embracing those works which show some ambition. What is almost universal, in both cases, is that the film needs to be capable of saying something, not only through the story being told but also through the decisions made in the process of adaptation. Clarissa is a fascinating example of how the directors can take an existing text (particularly one of the most important pieces of literature in the English language), and recontextualize it to have additional meaning without abandoning the original purpose of the novel. The most obvious change made here is the decision to move the story from London in the 1920s to Lagos in the present day, a logical choice considering the brothers have been focused on highlighting their culture through their films, and this also provides them with the opportunity to explore these themes by updating them to a modern context. Through showcasing the cultural nuances that they bring to the story, the film turns Lagos into a character in itself, the story becoming as much about the city as about the people who live in it, a symphonic celebration of culture as seen through the eyes of the many people who move through it on a daily basis.

While it may be easy to mistake it as an attempt to craft a contemporary version of a classic story, Clarissa is far deeper and more interesting in terms of its purpose, particularly in what the directors are intent on exploring beyond simply saying that they tackled a notable piece of literature. Mrs Dalloway has always stood out as a fascinating exploration of the past as shown through various interweaving perspectives. Much of the story itself remains the same in this regard – Clarissa is the high society woman planning a party, interacting with the same general ensemble of characters drawn from the novel, and the character of Septimus, the secondary protagonist, is also kept mostly intact. The primary change is in the setting, both in terms of time and location. This allows the film to still be an introspective character study of a woman negotiating the past, present and future. Much like the novel, Clarissa takes the form of a complex dissection of the human mind as it ponders the nature of existence and asks questions relating to identity and belonging (and the inherent queerness present in Woolf’s novel has never been quite as direct as it is here), constructed as a mosaic of complex lives, each character existing independently but still somehow being connected in a much broader sense. It all serves as the foundation of a compelling character study in which we encounter someone who is forced to reckon with the discomfort that comes when long-buried secrets resurface, forcing her to realize that no part of the past is ever truly dormant.

There are certainly some very complex themes that guide Clarissa, but the Esiri brothers find their vision being brought to life by a terrific cast, all of whom commit to this slightly more abstract attempt to revisit some difficult ideas. The titular part is shared between Sophie Okonedo and India Amarteifio – the former plays the older version of Clarissa, a woman weathered by time and experience, still seeking meaning in a world that she never truly understood, which has resulted in a growing cynicism that she finds difficult to ignore. Amarteifio is the younger, more idealistic version of the character, motivated by her doe-eyed enthusiasm for a future she doesn’t realize is not entirely within her grasp. Clarissa is not an easy character to play, especially since it requires both actors to handle difficult elements (particularly Amarteifio, whose portions of the film include dense dialogue, which would be intimidating for many young actors but which she seems more than capable of embracing) while also playing into the esoteric tone of the surrounding film. It’s a great showcase for Amarteifio, who is evidently a very promising young performer, and career-best work for Okonedo, who can communicate so much with a small gesture or lingering gaze. Both actors paint a vibrant portrait of a woman gradually coming to understand the complexities of the world in which she lives. Supporting parts from David Oyelowo, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Fortune Nwafor, Ayo Edebiri and several others (many of whom are acclaimed Nigerian actors who now have the opportunity to be seen on a much bigger stage) allow Clarissa to make some astute observations on how everyone is ultimately connected, often in ways that they do not entirely expect.

The source material has a reputation for being more challenging than readers may anticipate, with its stream-of-consciousness style making it seem somewhat more impenetrable than other works of the time. Clarissa is not much of a departure in the sense that it is motivated less by plot and more by atmosphere, which is something that the directors carefully implement when crafting this adaptation. The film functions primarily as a mood piece, a quiet voyage through the lives of these characters as they follow their daily routine. The directors capture a very specific blend of tones, with the film moving between the frantic energy of one of Africa’s bustling urban areas and the subdued, placid domestic space occupied by the protagonist, providing an immediate sense of contrast from which the film builds its story and allowing it to deliver its message without becoming too didactic. The dreamlike tone is accompanied by an abundance of symbolism, delivered through both the dialogue and the visual cues – some of these elements are explored more deeply, others are left to the viewer’s interpretation. It creates a film that takes its time to unpack every nuance, whether it is commenting on the complex psychological state of these characters, or providing commentary on something much broader, especially when the camera lingers for a few moments longer than usual, revealing deeper insights that don’t require anything other than the audience’s patience and attention. It all works towards making Clarissa an intentionally layered affair, one in which a clear story is being told, but where the subtle and elegant moments contain the most complex and devastating emotions, delivered with an understated, sophisticated approach, the film finding a unique rhythm from which it can realize its bespoke vision.

As an adaptation, Clarissa is a challenging and unconventional work, but one that knows exactly what it sets out to achieve. The source material is notoriously impenetrable, especially in onscreen adaptations, since there tends to be an elusive quality that emerges through the written word that fails to make it to the screen, which is why the previous attempts to bring this text to the screen have not been particularly memorable. Rather than trying to be a completely faithful adaptation, the film focuses on filtering the key themes through a very specific cultural lens, taking an unwieldy but profoundly beautiful novel and offering bespoke insights into its underlying conversations around identity, community, psychology, and culture. The specter of colonialism is never too far out of reach – it’s not the focus of the core story, but it does influence some of the narrative, which gives additional texture to this adaptation. Despite its length (the directors made sure to explore each element extensively), absolutely every moment feels purposeful and essential, each one a vital thread in the stunning humanistic tapestry that the directors are gradually weaving. It is certainly an ambitious endeavor to take a literary giant and arguably her most important book, and rework it to take on new meaning, while also still showing reverence to the text and its enormous legacy, which are immovable and very much a factor in how this film draws together many of its key ideas. It all ultimately forms the foundation for a pensive deconstruction of the past, and how we process certain memories and experiences, especially when we find ourselves constantly surrounded by uncomfortable reminders of the fact that it is impossible to entirely outrun the past. For Clarissa (and all the other characters), life proves to be nothing more than a series of questions and reflections, a stream of simple moments that individually are not all that notable, but when put together, come to form a fascinating examination of the strange intersections between the past, present and future, in all their respective uncertainty.