Ayo Makun’s The Waiter arrives with the promise of freshness, packaged as a “comedy thriller” that would supposedly show audiences a different side of the actor-producer, or just as he claimed. Yet, from the opening minutes, it becomes clear that we’ve been served the same AY formula reheated in a new pot: noisy plotlines, misplaced cameos, and a “Warri!” phrase so overused that it now feels like a parody of itself.
At its core, the movie attempts to juggle two narratives: the siege of a luxury hotel by Tonye Bright (Bucci Franklin), a former soldier-turned-terrorist demanding poverty alleviation funds, and the antics of Akpos (AY), a waiter who inserts himself into the chaos with the kind of confidence only possible in AY’s cinematic universe. On paper, the set-up is rich with potential: a social commentary on corruption and poverty wrapped in action-comedy. On screen, it collapses into two films spliced together; one vaguely serious, the other cartoonish.
The biggest flaw is how little Akpos and Tonye’s arcs actually intersect. In most thrillers of this nature, the reluctant hero stumbles into danger and, through wit, luck, or grit, disrupts the villain’s plans. In The Waiter, Akpos and Tonye spend almost the entire film orbiting each other without consequence. Their eventual meeting is anticlimactic, like two actors from different productions forced into the same frame. This disconnection drains the film of tension. Viewers aren’t watching a battle of wills or even an accidental clash; they’re watching two unrelated shows run side by side.
Ironically, the supposed villain is more compelling than the star. Bucci Franklin brings a cold, deliberate menace to Tonye, a character driven by warped but understandable frustrations with government corruption. His performance suggests the possibility of a darker, sharper thriller buried inside the film. But that possibility is sabotaged by the script’s uneven tone. Whenever Tonye gains momentum, the narrative cuts to Akpos cracking another “Warri” one-liner, reminding us we’re not here for nuance, we’re here for AY.
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And then there are the cameos: Dino Melaye, Nasboi, Brainjotter, Kunle Remi, and others drift in and out of the film like TikTok skits awkwardly edited into a feature. Most of them add nothing except noise. Kunle Remi is the exception, delivering one of the film’s few genuinely funny performances by leaning into satire without trying to force it. His short screen time is proof that the comedy could have worked if it had been crafted with restraint.
The rest of the humor, however, is slapstick in the laziest sense: characters overacting, jokes repeated until flat, and AY shouting his signature phrase as though sheer volume equals punchline. By the second act, it’s clear the film is less about telling a story than about staging AY’s personal showcase.
The more one thinks about the logistics of The Waiter, the less sense it makes. Akpos consistently overpowers armed terrorists with little more than fists and bravado. Security protocols are ignored, the head of security never thinks to check surveillance footage while terrorists roam the hotel. Explosions happen for no reason, characters kiss randomly in the middle of a crisis, and plot threads are abandoned as if the writers forgot about them. Rather than building suspense, these gaps turn the film into unintentional comedy.
Director Toka McBaror (Almajiri) knows how to stage action, and a few scenes, particularly the opening military ambush show some promise. But the momentum is squandered by tonal inconsistency. Is this a social satire about poverty alleviation funds being hijacked? Is it an action film about a terrorist uprising? Or is it another AY comedy vehicle? The film never decides, so it ends up being none.
The Waiter could have been an opportunity for AY to evolve, to prove that his comedy can work within layered storytelling rather than repetitive gimmicks. Instead, it’s a confused film that refuses to commit to either its thriller ambitions or its comedic roots. What remains is a noisy, directionless mash-up where the only constant is AY reminding us he’s from Warri, as though that, on its own, is cinema.
At the end of the movie, I found myself asking not “What happens next?” but “How many more times are we going to be served the same AY movie in different wrappers?” For now, The Waiter is less a fresh dish and more a reheated leftover.
The Waiter was premiered nationwide in cinemas On December 20, 2024, and now streaming on Netflix and Circuits as of September 12, 2025.
