What’s the Utility of a Nigerian Film Review?

When Kemi Adetiba’s To Kill a Monkey was released on Netflix, it was seemingly agreed upon that it was another of the director’s masterpieces until dissenting reviews started tripping in. These reviews, which I also contributed to, assessed the series beyond its supposedly compact storytelling and genre-conscious editing, cinematography and lighting. In the nature of a well-written review, these reviews attempted to interrogate the series, Adetiba’s directorial decisions and its overarching implications on the Nigerian film industry. What followed these reviews were outrightly condescending, beer-parlour-coded and a few intelligent responses. This, for the working Nigerian film critic, isn’t new nor unique to Adetiba‘s recent work. It is all too present in the dismissive reactions from mainstream Nigerian filmmakers and the often vitriolic backlash from audiences to critics who are merely performing their cultural functions whenever a film or series gets released.  In a business-first and largely underfunded film industry like Nollywood, these responses and “confused cries” are understandable. But, what short or long-term effect does it have on the Nigerian film landscape? Or, more timely, what’s the use of a Nigerian film review or essays in a place like Nollywood? 

According to Nigerian academic journals and retired Nigerian film critic, Shaibu Husseini, documented critiques of Nigerian films started post-independence around 1972 when more Nigerian theatre practitioners ventured into production of films on celluloid. Nigerian theatre practitioners, like Hubert Ogunde and Moses Olaiya, began transitioning into film production on celluloid. This cultural shift can be traced to the Indigenization Decree of 1972, issued by Yakubu Gowon, which transferred ownership of about 300 film theatres from foreign owners to Nigerians. This move significantly boosted Nigerian content in theatres, especially productions from Western Nigeria. Prior to this era, Western, Chinese and Indian films dominated Nigerian screens and markets. The existence of these Nigerian films which sampled Nigerian realities and experiences meant cultural commentators, journalists and academics could interrogate them. Film reviews and criticisms, from a distinctively Nigerian lens, flourished in newspapers particularly Daily Times, The Guardian and other newspapers publications. From this beginning, there has been a strained and fraught relationship between film producers and film critics. Producers want to police what critics write and obstinate critics won’t budge.  The undertone is simple: critics don’t have a cordial relationship with filmmakers.  

According to Onookome Okome’s Nollywood: Spectatorship, Audience and the Sites of Consumption, these early critics focused on evaluating the narrative and aesthetic quality of films, often comparing them to Western standards. Unmindful of the framing of their engagement with Nollywood, their critiques were instrumental in documenting the industry’s rapid growth and its impact on Nigerian society. Representation of Nigerian culture, the economic potential of the industry, and the challenges of maintaining quality amidst rapid production schedules were topical issues in these reviews and criticisms. Ben Addelman and Samir Mallal’s documentary Nollywood Babylon is a visual representation of some of these issues. For the current generation of Nollywood film critics, these issues are still recurring.  

T.S. Elliott in Tradition and the Individual Talent said “Honest criticism and sensitive appreciation is directed not upon the poet but upon the poetry.” In Elliott’s opinion, reviews aren’t critics’ carefully written and meditated vendetta on an artists’ personality.  It’s also narcissistic to assume that the average Nigerian critic plagued with numerous personal issues has the leisure of time to consistently write vendetta-motivated reviews. In the realm of criticism, the art, in this case, the Nigerian film is the focal point of the critics’ interest. What emotion, philosophical thought, cultural opinion and knowledge the filmmaker has compressed into the timeline of their films are given primary attention. As the New Yorker film critic, Richard Brody opined, “And what a review embodies, above all, is one viewer’s experience of it. The essence of the review is evaluation, which of course doesn’t imply the crude simplicity of a thumbs-up or thumbs-down.” A Nigerian film review and essay is an individual critic’s evaluation of its storytelling, directing, steadfastness and unsteadiness to its genre, actors’ performances and other cultural and political issues.  

Reviews are how a film’s lifespan extends beyond its showtime. Unmindful of its scathing or accommodating tone, a Nigerian film review, essays and curated conversations are how a film gets a second life beyond the screen. Film reviews and essays are a cultural archive of thoughts, opinions and ideas about Nigerian cinema and filmmakers. But, in the current Nigerian film industry, film reviews and essays are expected to carry PR and Marketing undertone and critics are supposed to be “hype machines.” As highlighted, this thinking is reinforced by the grim and unforgiving Nigerian economic landscape. Filmmakers get indebted trying to make films. With no structural and institutional support, the mainstream Nollywood filmmaker is constantly panicking about making back investments and possibly making scant profit. This tight spot is understandable. But, for the working critic, this information, as important as it appears, has limited bearing on the direction of a film review. 

The history of film critics and filmmakers all over the world reveals that these two professionals don’t have cordial relationships. However, the current negative engagement Nigerian critics often receive have the capacity of making them disillusioned with the industry. In Nollywood where the industry and audiences aren’t attuned to the cultural importance of a film press, that a Nollywood film critic stops writing about Nollywood seems inconsequential. But, as an industry, it affects the quality of conversations around our films. And the cultural implications of this is that we might get to a point where the only “engagement” the industry will receive is writing and publishing of press releases, celebrity gossip, red-carpet coverage and surface-level reviews. The working Nigerian film critic is attuned to the workings of the industry. Thus, rough responses to reviews and essays are part of the game. Virtual mobs and condescending remarks, though ill-informed, will continue. But, what do these rough responses and remarks represent about the Nigerian film industry? 

There’s a political undertone and foundation to all these. The average Nigerian audience cares less about intellectualizing art. For them, art, in all its various forms and mediums, should be solely and strictly for entertainment. There’s no motivation to interrogate the social, cultural and political implications of a Nigerian film. The political, economical and security situation of Nigeria doesn’t afford Nigerians the leisure to critically examine films. As I have opined in a different essay, “Films, to the mainstream Nigerian audience, are opium; they provide temporary cover from the tidal wave of sadness and systemic failure. Quite interestingly, Nigerian mainstream filmmakers have realized that the functionality of their films isn’t in the artistic and cultural value but in the succor they provide.” And this lack of critical thoughts and rough responses to dissenting mainstream opinions isn’t monopolised by the Nigerian film industry.  Music journalists are often trolled and virtually mobbed. Investigative journalists are attacked by the Nigerian Police and government officials.  It’s a cultural problem that has resulted in the death of meaningful conversation in the Nigerian media space. 

The Nigerian film review and critic are a living part of the Nigerian film industry. There’s a symbiotic relationship between the Nollywood press and Nollywood film industry. The relationship will never be cordial but it can be respectful.