Nollywood: A Critical Examination of Africa's Cinematic Giant
By Ochuko Tonukari
When I think about Nollywood, I’m torn. On one hand, it’s inspiring—an industry born out of necessity, ingenuity, and sheer willpower. On the other, it’s frustrating—brimming with potential yet often hampered by avoidable missteps. If you’ve followed Nigerian cinema (or stumbled across its films on streaming platforms), you’ve likely experienced this same mix of admiration and exasperation. Let me explain.
The Good: Storytelling That Refuses to Be Ignored
Nollywood’s greatest strength lies in its stories. These films don’t tiptoe around life’s complexities. They dive right in—family feuds, corrupt politicians, forbidden love, generational curses, and the supernatural. There's an unfiltered honesty in Nollywood’s storytelling that feels raw and, at times, cathartic.
I remember watching Living in Bondage, the 1992 classic often credited with kickstarting the industry. It wasn’t polished by Hollywood standards, but it didn’t need to be. The suspense, the moral dilemmas, the eerie undertones—it all hooked me. Nollywood thrives on this ability to tell stories that reflect the chaos, beauty, and contradictions of Nigerian life. It’s as though the industry is perpetually trying to hold a mirror up to society, even when the reflection is messy.
And let’s not forget the actors. Nollywood stars like Genevieve Nnaji, Ramsey Nouah, and Richard Mofe-Damijo have become household names not just in Nigeria but across Africa and the diaspora. They bring charisma and depth to roles, even when working with laughably low budgets. That’s a testament to their talent and resilience.
The Bad: An Industry Tripping Over Its Own Feet
Yet for every step forward Nollywood takes, it feels like it stumbles backward twice. The first issue? Production quality. Yes, Nollywood is a low-budget industry, and I respect the hustle. But there’s no excuse for some of the glaring technical flaws—terrible sound mixing, shaky camerawork, and editing that could give you whiplash. Bad production pulls you out of the story, no matter how compelling the script is.
Then there’s the issue of quantity over quality. Nollywood churns out movies like it’s in a race against itself. Thousands of films are made every year, but how many are actually worth watching? The industry has prioritized volume, often at the expense of refinement. As a viewer, it’s exhausting to sift through the mediocrity to find the gems.
And let’s talk about clichés. I can’t count how many Nollywood films revolve around a poor girl marrying a rich man or someone being cursed by a jealous relative. These tropes are overused to the point of parody. It’s as if the industry is reluctant to take risks and explore new narrative territory.
The Future: Can Nollywood Reach Its Full Potential?
Despite its flaws, I’m optimistic about Nollywood’s future. The arrival of streaming platforms like Netflix has opened new doors for the industry, exposing its films to a global audience and raising the bar for production standards. Films like The Wedding Party and Lionheart have shown that Nollywood can deliver polished, high-quality cinema when it wants to.
But the question is, will the industry rise to the occasion? Will it invest in better scripts, better training for filmmakers, and better post-production? Or will it continue to rely on the same old formulas, content with mediocrity because, well, people will watch anyway?
A Personal Note
Nollywood is like that friend who’s brilliant but refuses to get their act together. You want to cheer for them because you see their potential, but you can’t help calling them out because you know they can do better. What do you think? Does Nollywood frustrate or inspire you? I’d love to hear your take.