Taiwo Egunjobi’s “The Fire and The Moth” Reiterates the Transnational Posture of Cinema

The Fire and The Moth Nollywood filmmakers, like their foreign peers, aren’t free from the clutches of influences. Tapping inspiration from various sources, including literature, other films, and cultural narratives, titles like  The Matrix (1999)  loosely inspired by Ghost in the Shell (1995), Inception (2010) inspired by Paprika (2006) and The Lion King (1994) loosely based on the storyline and character dynamics are loosely based on Shakespeare’s tragedy, Hamlet (1948). In Nollywood, we have Far From Home cloning Blood and Water, Elite etc, Ojukokoro to Reservoir Dogs and King of boys to Godfather. Recently, we have Ola Cardoso’s Suky recalling aspects of Gladiator. Now, with Taiwo Egunjobi’s The Fire and The Moth and its tepid inclination towards No Country For Old Men we have another addition. 

The Fire and The Moth tells, in unhurried pace, the story of Saba (a mute but great Tayo Faniran), a smuggler and his unfortunate encounter with Opa Stephens (Olarotimi Fakunle), a sneaky police officer and Teriba (William Benson). When we first meet Saba, a package, a stolen cultural artifact, has just been delivered to him by two unnamed robbers. This less-than-a-minute exchange will set off a change of events that bounce around institutional, political, cultural and social issues. After the delivery, Opa Stephen’s men ambush and kill  the robbers. In evading capture, Saba meets Abike (Ini Dima-Okojie), a PHD student with interest in African artifacts and Arike (Ugoh Amanda), her sister. Francois (Mark Kito), an European business man invested in the artifact has contracted an assassin (Jimmy Jean-Louis) to help retrieve the artifact. Through Saba’s evasion of Opa Stephen and Opa Stephen’s evasion of Teriba’s relentless pursuit of truth, the film lays bare an interesting treatise of human nature: greed. 

Unperturbed about the cultural relevance of the cultural artifact, each player is invested in the artifact for personal interest. Saba sees it as an escape from his smuggling lifestyle and answer to his father’s sickness. Abike and Arike view it as a fulfillment of their migration dreams. For Opa Stephens on the other hand, it’s just another bargaining chip. And Teriba sees it just as another case to be pursued. The film, and by extension its characters, doesn’t labour itself with the cultural import of the artifact. There are occasional references to its importance and relevance to the Yoruba but this gets quickly shoved aside for the characters’ interest. These divided but personal motivations acted as willing action propellers. 

Egunjobi and Isaac Ayodeji, the writer, share a history of working together on some of the most simple, detailed, cultural and political Nigerian stories.  From the feature-length debut project In Ibadan which pays beguiling and ecological homage to Ibadan, the city that birthed and nurtured them, the duo has gone on to produce Crushed Roses, a short film, All Na Vibes, a coming of age political story and A Green Fever. Aside from obviously setting their films in Ibadan and working with a limited cast, their film has that beguiling patience and tone. In choosing its slow and steadily unfurling pace, their films compel us to watch and observe. Slow pace drama can, in an industry like Nigeria, destabilizes audiences’ investment,  but, with the duo’s films, they’re working in a film idiom they know best. And they’re encouraging us to honour it. 

Okwong Fadama’s cinematography has a way of maintaining the visual rhythm and storytelling of The Fire and The Moth. For a film that focuses so much on the emotional layers we put on ourselves and the almost-unexplainable human desire and motivations, Fadama’s camera understands this conflict and accordingly captures them. The cinematography allows for deep focus and introspection.  

Egunjobi’s The Fire and The Moth reiterates the transnational posture and nature of not just Nigerian films but cinema as an artistic medium. In being inspired by variant narratives across the world, filmmakers have learnt to produce films that suit the cultural, historical and political palate of their country.  And that’s where Egunjobi’s film shines brightest.