Imasuen’s Call To Action: Should Nollywood Veterans Feel Obligated To Give Back?

On the celebration of his 30th anniversary in the Nigerian film industry, Nollywood filmmaker and director Lancelot Imasuen made a call for veteran actors like Omotola Jalade-Ekeinde, Genevieve Nnaji, Jim Iyke, and Emeka Ike to give back to the industry. According to him, these big stars have outgrown and abandoned an industry that brought them the recognition and reputation that they enjoy. Noting the divide between Old and New Nollywood, the filmmaker stated that the involvement and contributions of these accomplished actors would be key to bridging this gap and fostering growth towards a sustainable industry.

At first thought, Imasuen’s clarion call feels well-intentioned. But it also feels like bandying vague words without specifically considering the likely circumstances involved. As a legendary filmmaker himself who has worked with many of the so-called Old Nollywood stars at a time when the industry was not as prestigious and sophisticated as it is now, has he made attempts to connect with the individuals he mentioned to understand the reasons for their reduced commitment to the industry? In what specific ways then should they give back to the industry? There’s also the question of whether retiring in peace from a once-cherished career or switching to another career altogether is a big deal.

In a typical work environment, aren’t employees free to resign from a long-term job they no longer find fulfilling and rewarding without looking back? An experienced medical doctor may choose to leave the profession to pursue, for instance, an importation business that offers better financial prospects. He has no obligation to continue proffering medical advice and does not need to occasionally visit the hospital to assist or mentor younger doctors there. A retired military veteran may sever all ties with the military, relinquishing access to classified information and stepping away from military intelligence and operations entirely. While retired experts could be occasionally consulted to offer invaluable contributions—such as an emeritus professor still being honoured for his intellectualism and invited to participate in academic discourses—they are of the volition to either agree or decline.

Conversations involving Nollywood, including Imasuen’s claims, are usually more nuanced than presented. A major reason for this is the industry’s lack of a standardized structure or operational template, a reality that has shaped its evolution since its inception. The industry has always been a volatile space, with actors and filmmakers mostly having to figure out ways to thrive and sustain themselves from one project to another. Filmmakers have had to borrow from friends or take loans from financial institutions to fund their projects, with many of them running into debt. Actors have had to work under strenuous conditions, with no pension or insurance guaranteed on the job. There have been no dependable associations to cater to actors who fell sick or experienced ugly life-changing situations that kept them away from work. Given these circumstances, actors who achieved major success did so on their own terms. Whatever relationship these stars hold with Nollywood as an institution is a symbiotic one: they did the industry good as much as the industry did them good too. Even so, they probably faced as many challenges and got exploited without proper remuneration for their talent by filmmakers in the pre-streaming era of Nigerian cinema. Imasuen’s outcry against neglect does not account for these fine details that might have discouraged stars from more commitments to the industry.

Besides, funding and distribution problems faced during the era of home video persist in today’s industry. With recent talks about international streamers like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video being cautious about their investment plans for the industry, many filmmakers now hawk their films across the limited cinemas in the country. Except for a few filmmakers like Funke Akindele, this approach does not guarantee consistent commercial productivity. Last year, Femi Branch complained about cinema staff jeopardizing the box office performances of some films. Pere Egbi, a fast-rising actor and filmmaker, noted that he spent about 200 million naira on his film, The Silent Intruder, yet made only 53 million naira in the cinemas, accusing the cinemas of offering poor screen times in his disfavour and contributing to the commercial letdown. In an Instagram post dated May 2nd this year, producer James Abinibi advised filmmakers against taking their films to the cinemas, claiming that “no Nollywood producer has broken even from their cinema releases this year.” Other reasons for low ticket sales include high rate of poverty and lack of sufficient theatres to cater to the teeming population of the country. These anecdotal indicators show that, without an overhaul of cinema operations nationwide, improvement in standards of living, and a rise in the quality of storytelling, theatrical film distribution and business will be threatened. Nollywood stars too cannot do much to sell a film in a country where people do not have enough economic resources to constantly patronize the cinemas.

To agree that the stars Imasuen called out have completely distanced themselves from modern cinema would be overreaching as well. Genevieve Nnaji has been involved in contemporary projects both as a filmmaker and an actress. She directed Lionheart, the first Nigerian Original film on Netflix, and I Do Not Come To You By Chance. Additionally, she starred in Biyi Bandele’s Half of a Yellow Sun, an adaptation of Chimamanda Adichie’s historical novel of the same title. Omotola Jalade-Ekeinde starred in Alter Ego, a 2017 film that earned her the Best Actress in a Drama/TV Series at the 2018 Africa Magic Viewers Choice Awards (AMVCA), and also in the 2020 action thriller Rattlesnake: The Ahanna Story, a revamp of Amaka Igwe’s 1995 classic Rattlesnake. Jim Iyke’s recent appearances include the Merry Men franchise, Passport, and The American Driver as well as a host of other films available on his YouTube channel and elsewhere. Emeka Ike made a comeback in Toyin Abraham’s 2023 film Malaika. We also cannot overlook Ramsey Nouah’s contributions to the present state of the industry, most notably through his partnerships with Play Network Studios and directorial works, Living In Bondage: Breaking Free, a sequel to Kenneth Nnebue and Okey Ogunjiofor’s classic, Rattlesnake: The Ahanna Story, and Tokunbo, a 2024 Netflix crime thriller film. Several other veterans from the home video era have continued to remain relevant in the industry either as actors or filmmakers—including Anayo Modestus (a.k.a. Kanayo O. Kanayo), Nkem Owoh, Mercy Aigbe, Mercy Johnson, Femi Adebayo, and box office queen Funke Akindele.

However, rather than attributing the industry’s collective shortcomings to a select few, we can explore alternative ways for veterans to enhance Nollywood’s reputation both locally and internationally. One such approach is the establishment of structured mentorship programs, enabling veterans to impart their expertise and experiences to emerging creatives. Through guided support, these initiatives can help newcomers navigate challenges, avoid common pitfalls, and accelerate their path to success. Veterans can also leverage their international connections to create golden opportunities and negotiate collaborations for the domestic industry. Genevieve Nnaji’s star power, for instance, was instrumental to the launch of Netflix in Nigeria.

Veterans can also help to build a sustainable film industry by spearheading functional associations with clearly defined roles. They should be at the forefront of unions such as the Screenwriters Guild of Nigeria and Actors Guild of Nigeria, leading the creation and enforcement of laws catering to the interests of the present and emerging generations of talents. With their clout, these veterans can provoke changes in the operational models of cinema associations and executives, paving way for an equitable distribution system. Ultimately, the collective efforts of Nigerian actors and filmmakers across all generations are needed to build a film industry that, despite its idiosyncrasies, runs on meritocratic and ultramodern values.