Chukwuogo isn't your social media-popular filmmaker.
3 weeks ago
There are two types of filmmakers. One group makes films about every and anything; their films aren’t restricted to a fixed interest. Think Steven Soderbergh, Ava DuVernay, James Cameroon, and others. The second makes films about specific topics (this, you find out after patiently interrogating their work) which fit into every story they tell. Think Christopher Nolan’s obsession with time, Yasujiro Ozu’s interests in family dissolution, Sean Baker’s keen attention to the unfiltered lives of sex workers, Bong Joon Ho’s cinematic crusade against capitalism. That pedantic obsession with this special interest always —intentionally or not, rear itself into their stories, characters’ decisions and dialogue. In most cases, the central thesis of their stories, characters, and story worlds rest on this special interest. Ifeoma Chukwuogo belongs to the second group.
From Bariga Sugar, Dear Dija, to Phoenix Fury, her directorial feature film which premiered at the 2024 African International Film Festival (AFRIFF) and is now coming to Nigerian cinemas from 30th October, 2026, the director has confessed her special interest in unassuming friendship as haven and armour. A decade ago, the writer-director landed with Bariga Sugar, an intimate short film about the intimate lives of Nigerian sex workers and their children. For about twenty minutes, the short film addresses social issues in empathetic language and style. But, a decade after, what stays is the somewhat strange friendship between Ese (Halimat Olarewaju) and Jamil (Tunde Azeez), children of two sex workers who must unite against the judgemental eyes of their mates, neighbourhood, and community. The director returns to this interest in Dear Dija, another short story. Here, two teenagers: Nnamdi (Efosa Idahosa) and Khadija (Praise Adejo) develop affection for one another. There’s nothing scandalous about this until you recheck their names and the religious and ethnic baggage it carries. Unfortunately for these teenagers, Nigeria isn’t utopian and love (that strange subject) is, at times, too fragile when faced with footsoldiers of religious and ethnic divide. But, amidst this external pressure, the teenagers return to themselves. Through the director’s child and teenage characters we witness, as viewers, quite starkly, how biased we are as humans, compromised the world is, and the strength of solidarity.
It’s this solidarity that strengthens Phoenix Fury. Told in four chapters, the film elegantly moves across Nigerian political history from the Biafran war, a military coup, oil bunkering, and present-day political landscape. The characters aren’t just moving across these historical epochs, but making statements about its ridiculousness to the average Nigerian. The Biafran war and the touted war on corruption is nothing but a disguised war against poor Nigerians. The film is a journey through Ifeatu (Uzoamaka Power) and Ewura-Ama’s (Ama K Abebrese) quest for justice against Yali (Richard Mofe-Damijo) who has caused them pain years ago. This man, now an elected Governor, used Ifeatu to traffic illegal subject and, when caught, distances himself from her while inflicting pain on her son, and dear friend, Nnenna’s (Onyiye Odokoro.)
The film begins in the present. We meet Ewura-Ama in Ghana, financially comfortable but emotionally unsettled. When the film journeys to the past, we learnt of Ifeatu’s journey: the father and mother that died during the war, the grandmother that dotes on her, the conniving relatives that disinherited her, the pedophile that impregnated her, the odysseus to Lagos, and her chanced encounter with Nnenna. To appreciate the film’s beauty is to understand the seamless transition from one historical timeline to another. There’s an understanding of the different historical contexts and the artistic demands required to bring them alive. From production design, sound design, costume design, performance, and others, the film’s visual language isn’t strange. As the film moves across timelines, the director’s interest in friendship as a haven reveals itself in Ifeatu and Nnenna’s serious and playful exchanges. We see them as two women united against the exploitative tendencies of the outside world. They anchor each other without being overbearing. Even when, years later, that friendship binds her actions.
Chukwuogo isn’t your social media-popular filmmaker. In fact, the high chance of a random Nollywood audience recognizing her name and work is slim. But, popularity isn’t the metric to artistic excellence. AFRIFF, for all its faults, agrees with the film’s brilliance by awarding it Best Director and Best Film and Best Director.
