When we look back on 2020, most of us will cringe and shudder at the sheer turbulence that injected itself into every aspect of our lives. But for some, it was a time to learn new things, work on their mental health, start the novel they’d been dreaming about writing. For Abraham Adeyemi, that meant qualifying for the Oscars because he wrote and directed a beautiful film that won the Tribeca Film Festival for best narrative short. The South Londoner made his directorial debut with “No More Wings,” which won the Soho House’s global screenwriting competition, Script House.
“It’s been a whirlwind year,” said Adeyemi, when congratulated on his qualifying for the Oscars. “It been longer than a year because we made the film 18 months ago. It’s kind of all been consistently exciting, positively exciting.”
“No More Wings” converges at one table in a small South London fried chicken joint and immediately we are met by two lifelong friends who have landed in two very contrasting points in their lives. The class disparity is apparent from the costuming but when Isaac announces that he is buying his first home in a ritzy part of town, Jude declares how he’d never leave his hood.
There is a scene when after their chicken arrives, Isaac watches transfixed as Jude peppers his food with delicate movements of his fingers. There seems to be a significance attached to it.
“It’s so funny because my best friend watched the film for the first time, he and another friend were talking and saw elements of me in the film. I’ll always ask for eight peppers and one salt,” Adeyemi explained. “In that moment I was trying to reflect, that people have their very own rituals. It was nostalgic for Isaac to see his friend after all these years that he still does this. That’s quite beautiful about friendships, when you haven’t seen someone for years and you might worry that you don’t recognize them anymore, and they do things that make you say they’re still the exact same person.”
The film quickly adds an interesting and very engaging twist that gives the viewer an a-ha moment when two young teenagers walk in passing Isaac and Jude and sit at the counter. Isaac, in particular, watches them with interest as he continues to catch up with Jude. And as the viewer we realize we are watching them as children — in real time. The flashback has entered the here and now and we get to listen in on the teens talk about their hopes and dreams while we watch the results of those heartfelt ambitions at the table across the room. Using flashbacks in real time cements a narrative by showing the past and future side-by-side, at some points even interacting with each other, in a guttural way it feeds our need for instant gratification.
“It’s a film you have to watch twice. Once you see that moment, all of a sudden you’re like wait. You start questioning so many things. The only way to potentially see it is to watch it a second time with the knowledge you now have,” he said.
It begs the question that perhaps we are always interacting with our past, ghosts, and demons? “There are so many theories on what I mean in that moment. The first question is always were they the same people or not. We are always interacting with our ghosts and demons. We are composed of our history and past. Everything that happened yesterday created the being we are today. Those things are always impacting who we’ve become,” Adeyemi said. “A year or two ago I got really caught up with the concept that anything that I do in life, there’s a reason behind it. Do you put water on your toothpaste first, and so, sometimes it’s easier to look from the outside in to see everything. To be the observer – that’s when you can all of a sudden piece it all together.”
In the film, Isaac is in a dashing suit, a consummate professional. We see him as a teenager at the counter, scolding Jude, the teen, about studying for an exam. Isaac the adult has become a successful businessman and buying a home outside of South London. He is definitively showing the viewer how he is leaving his past. Jude, despite all of his talents, is stubbornly clinging to his past in that he is staying in his neighborhood, no matter what. But he had dreams. Jude explains that the neighborhood is experiencing a gentrification and after all the time he’s given the region, why wouldn’t someone stay for the “glow up?” He follows this with, “There’s no place like home.”
“Firstly, I think, home can be toxic. One might argue, if you were born in Bel Aire, how could that be toxic. It can be very toxic. Also, there has to be an element of fear. What happens when I step out of this comfort zone? I grew up in South London. I moved back about six months ago, and I feel more comfortable here than anywhere because this is the place I’ve known my entire life. That’s not to say I’m going to stay here forever. It’s not so much about lucking out on a place – whether that place gets better or not, this character wants to stay there.” Glow up or not.
Jude had many talents as a kid, and we get the idea that he could’ve chased his dream of becoming a rapper. Clinging to a home that he loves could be construed as a clutch for a number of rationalizations on the part of his character. “It replicates his relationship with his ambition. He was naturally talented at a number of things, but, when it required him to get out of his comfort zone, which is essentially push even harder by getting out of his comfort zone, show more dedication, and really chase that dream – instead of doing that, he changed dreams. Is it a fear of failure? Is it impatience? It’s so many different things.”
Because of their current circumstances, there is a sense of animosity between Jude and Isaac — and deep love. The messages we are shown of the friends’ feelings about the other is subtle but powerful. Isaac, the businessman, seems to be wondering why Jude would prefer to stay in South London. Jude doesn’t seem to envy his successful friend. In most circumstances the less successful friend might feel like the one who didn’t achieve his dreams. Jude appears to be fighting for the right to love where he lives, even if it isn’t glamorous or a badge of success, whether it’s an excuse for his failings or not, he declares, “there’s no place like home.”
It’s amazing to have one a-ha moment in a 10-minute film. But two? It can break your heart when it is revealed that the moment Isaac turns his head to put on his overcoat, Jude, the teen, grazes passed Jude, the adult, and their hands swipe in a blink of an eye where a drug transaction occurs. Jude, the adult, just sold Jude, the teenager, some dope. What? The viewer does a double take. Did that just happen? Jude turns out to be a drug dealer? No!
Adeyemi laughs when the trauma of that moment is revealed. “You reacted excactly like everyone reacted to it! It means I did the job. It’s true, he’s a drug dealer,” he said. “It’s interesting because I always ask people why does him being a drug dealer mean we should stop rooting for him? A year ago working three different jobs — no one could tell me that because I was working all these jobs that I was not a writer. It may not have been paying the bills, but I was still a writer. For me to be able to chase that dream, I needed stability, a roof over my head. The more poignant message in that moment is that, when that exchange happened, it was deliberately captured in the way that it was. You see no faces, just the transaction, two hands. Are these the same characters? Even if you were sure that it was a past and present, now you’re not sure. You’ve just seen the two stories connect in a way you weren’t expecting.”
While the end credits roll, we hear a song that fully explains the film. It’s called “Cycle” by Wretch 32, featuring Tension/Talay Riley. “The song says everything you need to know about that moment, which is that unfortunately in this community these negative things are cyclical. This adult at the table passing drugs to a kid — at one time someone did this to him as well. This is how he ends up in this cycle and he perpetuates it. I truly believe that that character, Jude, wants to break from his destructive behavior. He wants to make something of himself, he wants to provide for his family in a legit way and make his partner and his child proud of him. It’s just easier said than done.”
Adeyemi explains that there are some people watching the film that will say Jude is an “asshole” and that he had been lying the whole time. “It says more about them than it says about the story. My hope is that people will take away multiple interpretations from it. Maybe it’s not just what’s on the surface. Even though he’s done this bad thing, recreating this cycle, you still believe that this guy can get out of this. It’s intended to be a film about hope.”
Mr. Adeyemi was commissioned and is currently writing a television show for Channel 4 in the U.K. Wherever home is, he’s got a big, beautiful journey before him.
