Still from Eyimofe
cultural strategist & creative director Tobi Onabolu on ‘eyimofe’ and the evolution of Nigerian film
words Tobi Onabolu
Disclaimer: There are no spoilers in this piece!
As an artistic medium, film remains in its infancy - the first ever film was made less than 150 years ago. Placed within the broader context of image-making, this is a tiny blip in time, considering that there are records of cave art from over 44,000 years ago.
When we talk specifically of African cinema, not including films created by colonialists, our time period begins in earnest at the turn of independence, around the 1960s. However, African cinema in this context is not married to the post-colonial nation-building ideologies of Senegalese film director Sembène etc.: “post-1990 directors resolutely go beyond nationalism and situate their discourses in the turbulent flows of globalization” (Tcheuyap, 2011: 20). Here, the term is used loosely as a classifier for films dealing with subject matter quite specific to the continent, directed by and produced by (sometimes but not always), Africans.
Hyènes, Mambéty, 1992
Definitions aside, we are thus looking at an industry that is still finding its feet, with much more unchartered than chartered territory. The celebration of African cinema has for some time had a strong francophone bias, with legends such as Safi Faye (Mossane), Ousmane Sembène (Black Girl, Xala etc.), Djibril Dip Mambéty (Touki Bouki, Hyènes etc.) and Souleymane Cissé (Yeleen) heralded as pioneers.
More contemporarily, Abdherrahame Sissako was the first African filmmaker to be nominated for an Academy Award with his stunning visual Timbuktu (2014), Mambéty’s niece Mati Diop won the Grand Prix at Cannes Film Festival with Atlantique (2019), and it would be ill-advised to leave out Mahamet Saleh-Haroun (Abouna, Dry Season, Une Saison en France) from any serious conversation about African Cinema.
There have undoubtedly been some moments of magic from non-francophone African cinema, such as Rafiki (Wanuri Kahiu), I Am Not A Witch (Rungano Nyoni), and The Burial of Kojo (Blitz Bazawule) amongst a whole host of others. Yet when it comes to Nigerian cinema, the conversation swiftly turns to volume, scale, financial potential, speed of production and so forth. There can be no doubt of the impact of Nollywood across the wider continent, if only by the sheer volume of the industry. Moreover, there has also been a resurgence in the popularity of 90s Nollywood classics, which has been felt at home in Nigeria and across the Diaspora, even evident in pop culture. Netflix abounds with contemporary Nigerian cinema featuring a mixture of laughable but enjoyable nonsense and a light sprinkling of relatively sophisticated films.
I Am Not a Witch, Nyoni, 2017
And yet, despite Nigeria’s influence as a cultural hotspot and nexus on the continent, and indeed an artistic powerhouse, it is difficult to speak of any Nigerian film that comes close to being called the ever-so-coveted, thou-shalt-not-be-mentioned term, “masterpiece”. Certainly not on par with the likes of Touki Bouki, Black Girl, Timbuktu and so forth. In music and fashion, Nigeria is dominant, in visual art and literature, Nigeria is a force to be reckoned with, and yet in cinema, we don’t need a full set of fingers to count the number of serious films to have come out of the world’s proudest Black nation.
However, in the Esiri brothers’ debut feature-length film, we witness a major turning point for Nigerian cinema and the most important film to have ever come out of the country. Set in Lagos, Nigeria, the film follows the stories of Mofe, a factory technician, and Rosa, a hairdresser, on their quest for what they believe will be a better life on foreign shores. Initially released early 2020, Eyimofe elegantly and urgently captures topical social issues in Nigeria, depicted through world-class cinematography and intelligent writing, starring an excellent breakthrough performance by Temi Ami-Williams, set against a nostalgic yet hopeful soundtrack. That Eyimofe is produced in Nigeria is the indulgent buttercream frosting atop a perfectly baked cake.
Still from Eyimofe
The Museum of Modern Art defines social realism through a eurocentric lens as a “movement that flourished between the two World Wars in response to the social and political turmoil and hardships of the period. Artists turned to realism as a way of making art easily accessible and legible to the wider public, often portraying their subjects as heroic symbols of persistence and strength in the face of adversity. Through their work, they aimed to call attention to the declining conditions of the poor and working classes and to challenge the governmental and social systems they held responsible.”
At this critical moment in Nigeria amid the #EndSARS movement, Eyimofe could not be more relevant. Whilst the film does not directly address the issue of police brutality, we are invited to interrogate some of the wider aims of the movement, notwithstanding the daily nefarious impact of the patriarchy on women; living and working conditions of Nigeria’s working classes; issues of classism and elitism; and the challenges of client patron relationships, to name a few.
The Esiri brothers address social realism within a Nigerian context using an accomplished cinematic style that is a delight to watch. Telling the stories of two relatable marginalised characters within Lagos, Eyimofe is not a tale of happily-ever-after endings, yet the film carefully swerves away from self-indulgently licking its wounds. A sharp turn away from the typical Nollywood trend of attempting to glamourise Lagos through drone and panning shots of the city’s affluent and commercial districts, Eyimofe captures the beauty of Lagos through tightly framed scenes. Indeed, it is a nod to the idea that the charismatic and endearing nature of Lagos is not to be found in its geology or architecture but within its people: within Lagosians.
This is perhaps most evident in a connecting scene when Temi Ami Williams’ character Rosa is on a boat headed to a beach house. Set against the guitar inflections of palm wine music, the camera tightly frames Rosa’s experience on a boat as the wind blows through her hair and a sense of liberation is invoked. The emphasis here rests on serene enjoyment at the mercy of the natural elements, rather than through materialism, as is often the case in Nollywood scenes depicting pleasure. Further still, Eyimofe respectfully collaborates with nature, acknowledging the greyness of Lagos to turn this to an advantage. Rather than over-editing and sharply recolouring, Eyimofe is kissed with a soft grain, presenting a cinematic visual aesthetic that is rarely, if seldom, seen in Nigerian cinema.
Similarly, even in more morose scenes, where sadness and melancholy are the more dominant emotions, cinematic beauty remains uncompromised. There is one particular scene in a hospital where the Esiri brothers accurately capture the ambience of dimly lit and outdated Nigerian hospitals, yet they excel in art direction through the intelligent use of colour and costume to create a breathtaking visual. It certainly helps to have the calibre of Daniel Obasi as the film’s costume designer - as a multidisciplinary creative who explores afro-futurism and imagined and liberated spaces in his work, he has been lauded, concurrently maintaining a strong connection to relatable African narratives.
Still from Eyimofe
Again, throughout the film, the power of social realism is invoked to move away from the glamorization of wealth, as the camera adopts an observational role, free of judgement. A scene set in South Social Bar, a popular bar in Victoria Island (an affluent Lagos district), is only made evident to those familiar with the establishment. Whereas Nollywood is renowned for making a point of depicting wealth, materialism and excess, often exacerbated through garish scenes of tables in nightclubs adorned with overflowing bottles, hosted by portly ogas surrounded by scantily clad women, Eyimofe’s tight framing avoids this stereotypical depiction in favour of engaging conversations and compelling circumstances.
Indeed, it is through superior creative writing that the audience is invited to indulge in a captivating storyline, avoiding the clichéd cringe-worthy razzmatazz of Nollywood in a way that still speaks directly and engagingly to Nigerian audiences. For all of his successes, a major critique of Sembène’s films was their feeling of being too directly “educational” and overtly “political” thus non-relatable or appealing to the average Senegalese cinema-goer and therefore becoming cinema for the elite. As Tcheuyap argues in African Cinema, “This cinema has helped to develop auteur films, which, although useful, alienated African filmgoers” (2011, 18). Yet Eyimofe transcends both Sembene’s and Nollywood’s shortcomings through a thoroughly entertaining and gripping plot, which simultaneously leaves the audience cinematically satiated but also awake to some of the harsher realities of life in Africa’s most populous city.
Still from Eyimofe
Vast credit must also be given to Temi Ami-Williams, whose breakthrough performance injects sincere humanity into the film’s heroine in a way that is at once understated yet passionate. With Nollywood’s renown for iconic women, Ami-Williams forges a unique on-screen identity for Rosa without pandering to stereotypes. In Rosa, the Nigerian viewer is invited to reflect on a character that may be themselves, a sister, a friend or even just an acquaintance - a character to which most can relate. Once again, the camera absconds itself of judgement and merely exists to observe, as Rosa’s character is forced to negotiate through a deeply patriarchal system designed to trip up women at every juncture. Between scenes of the mundane to that of sheer desperation, Ami-Williams successfully balances poise whilst satiating the Nigerian appetite for melodrama. Worth mentioning too is Jude Akuwudike’s acting as Mofe, the male protagonist, with a mature and powerful performance.
Evaluations on Nigerian cinema rarely allow for utterances such as “world-class” or “international acclaim”. Whilst Nollywood is undoubtedly highly entertaining and boasts audiences of millions across the globe, the industry is yet to carve out a niche for producing internationally award-winning films. However, when we reconsider the infancy of African and indeed Nigerian cinema, there is no cause for concern on this front, and it would seem that it was only a matter of time before a “world-class” piece of cinema was to come out of Nigeria. It may have taken 60 years but Eyimofe has proven Nigeria’s ability to produce the very best of cinema. The hope and aspiration must be that this film is not a one-off but rather the dawn of a new era.
Sources
Alexie Tcheuyap (2011) African Cinema(s), Critical Interventions, 5:1, 10-26, DOI: 10.1080/19301944.2011.10781397
Eyimofe has been touring international film festivals and will next be shown at Hainan IFF (China) and Glasgow Gramnet (UK).