This Swahili show set in Nairobi follows a young, up-and-coming musician as he braves his circumstances, religious upbringing and the looming shadow of his singer-father, to carve a place in hip-hop. Volume goes down the tried-and-tested road of early, local fame in the age of social media, and the excesses that go with it. Staying true to one’s artistic identity in the glare of Instagram attention is one of the primary themes explored. Benja/Benjamin (Brian Kabugi) grew up in a household where his talented musician-father soaked up all the adulation. To the young Benja, he could do no wrong. And all he wanted to do was to follow in his footsteps. Except, the reality of the day-to-day was very different from the romanticised version.
As he wowed the community with his music and larger-than-life persona, his wife (Benja’s mother) worked tirelessly to ensure that the basics at home were met. The hero-worship notwithstanding, Benja recalls the times as a child when he tended to his father during his breakdowns. Now, as a young adult on the cusp of his own musical success, he gets the backing of his church and community. The question is whether he will stay true to his vision? Whether his lyrics will be influenced by what sells as opposed to what has meaning? Rap was, after all, born from the struggle of the streets; prejudice, injustice, violence, poverty, and so on…something Benja knows all too well.
The story goes where many have gone before. In that sense, it doesn’t break new ground or shed light on relatively unexplored subject matter. And that is absolutely fine. But when the narrative fails to set itself apart because its characters are replicas of those you’ve seen before, the unoriginality cannot be ignored. Multiple people are introduced to us in the first episode of the six-part series. There’s Benja, of course, who wishes to win a Nairobi-based music competition worth 1 million Kenyan shillings.
Indebted to his mother for her sacrifices, his immediate dream is to use the winnings to provide her some stability. His best friend, Castro (Faiz Francis Ouma), is the typical wheeler-dealer bent on getting Benja fame by any means possible. Overconfident and reckless, he has a finger in many pies – from stealing mobile phones for re-sale to drug dealing. His brother Maish (Maina Wa Ndungu), in contrast, is a shrewd and seasoned criminal, often reprimanding him for impulsive behaviour.
Through Castro’s connections, Benja gets introduced to Ivy (Stephanie Muchiri), a social media influencer who vlogs on a variety of topics. She promises to take the local hip-hop musician’s fame to the next level. Then there’s Smallz (Elvis Ounyo), an unknown music producer who bumps into Benja in jail. Not only was the young man aware of the latter’s existence, but he was also a huge fan of Benja’s father. Lucy (Serah Wanjiru), the lead character’s devoted girlfriend, has a choice to either stand by the musician Benja was or who he is turning into.
For a clichéd story to be engaging, the acting is forced to be of a certain standard. Limitations of plot and character may not always be overcome by performance, but it sure helps in the test of watchability. Unfortunately, Volume’s primary cast comes up with an amateur display. They try hard to commit to their roles but it is that “trying” that succeeds in it being more performative than natural. Some of the older, supporting cast members in Natasha Sinayobye (Andrea, the rich and influential club owner who takes a gamble on Benja, thanks to Ivy) and Maina Wa Ndungu (Castro’s brother, Maish) exude true, understated menace. Their acting, despite the restricted potential of the narrative, remains a standout. Benja’s internal struggle of whether to stay true or sell out shows in the writing. If only it had an actor who could pull it off.
The series’ hip-hop/rap music (from the opening track to the closing credits and everything in between) is another highlight, with lead Brian Kabugi singing several songs. In all of Volume’s ensuing drama that involves a drug overdose, kidnapping, rival criminal gangs, murder and a major police investigation, it is the music that gets lost, somewhat. The focus moves to other aspects, leaving the purportedly central theme (which I’m assuming to be craft, performance, and so on) just that bit behind. No time is given to examine how Benja develops his lyrics or his beats. They’re just there, for the most part.
Scenes jump haphazardly from one to the other in many instances, with little regard for seamless transition or continuity. Benja moving from one gig to the other (sometimes at the club, sometimes at school) is an example of where the editing (and writing) could have been better. All in all, Volume flatters to deceive. It’s neither good nor bad. The story, though predictable, had the potential to branch off into its own, independent territory. Not to be the case, sadly.
Series: Volume Creators: Njiiri Karago, Tosh Gitonga Cast: Brian Kabugi, Faiz Francis Ouma, Stephanie Muchiri, Elvis Ounyo, Serah Wanjiru, Natasha Sinayobye, Maina Wa Ndungu Streamer: Netflix Rating: 2.5/5
