Viva does not lack for confidence. Indeed, ripping off his Angolan boss César was a bold play. If he can stay alive long enough, he is in for a big pay day. Of course, his idea of lying involves hitting the seamy Kinshasa nightlife hard with his old friend, J.M. Not having enough heat coming down on him yet, Riva starts hitting on Nora, the captive girlfriend of the local drugged-out crime lord, who is admittedly gorgeous.
Persistent rather than smart, Riva eventually wins her over, plunging headlong into a passionate affair, despite the looming threat of César. Holding the lesbian lover of the local police Commandante hostage, the Angolan mobster even has the services of the ostensive local law enforcement on his side. It should just about equally match Riva’s recklessness. Spectacular mayhem will ensue.
Amped-up to eleven, Viva has a polished style well beyond mass-produced Nollywood fare some viewers might be familiar with. It also departs rather explicitly from the Christian subtext often found in independent Nigerian cinema. Munga is not content to merely depict the unvarnished seediness of the DRC’s capitol, he flat-out revels in it (reserving the pseudo-Christian for the serpentine César). Frankly, the bold, brash, and lusty Viva might have something to offend everyone, particularly in its depiction of women. Yet, it seems pretty clear Munga is holding up a mirror to nature and the attitudes widely prevalent in the DRC.
Frankly, Viva’s propulsive energy should overwhelm all but the strongest impulses to tut-tut at its gleeful political incorrectness. Though they hardly have a chance to take a breath, the cast is also quite strong. Paris-based Manie Malone makes a particularly strong impression as Nora, bringing considerable depth and dimension to the apparent femme fatale.
