Nigerian Filmmaker Taiwo Egunjobi is Carving Out His Own Path in Nollywood

Taiwo Egunjobi has ambitions, but not in the typical way you’d expect of most Nigerian filmmakers. Raised in the ancient city of Ibadan, in Southwest Nigeria, Egunjobi grew up with a deep interest in history, which in turn roots his creativity in telling stories that are informed by the continuing circumstances of the Nigerian experience.

A Green Fever, his third full-length feature, is a bottle movie — where all the story’s events take place in one room or setting — that boils as much as it simmers. Set in the 1980s, the noir thriller places a handful of characters in a room as they prod at each other, the overt lack of trust and tinges of paranoia making for an engaging film. Now streaming on Prime Video, A Green Fever premiered in the competition category of last year’s Africa International Film Festival (AFRIFF), receiving favorable reviews at the time.

Working with a higher profile of actors than his previous two indie features, Egunjobi expands his ambition without abandoning the idiosyncrasies that have marked his work, such as setting his films in Ibadan. It’s the same balancing act he hopes to carry forward, even as he eyes the possibilities of executing bigger ideas, expanding without being wholly indebted to the du jour spirit of the Nigerian film mainstream.

“I know some people call us New Nollywood but I don’t really care for that tag,” he tells OkayAfrica in an interview. “We can be respectful of the industry and also know that our cinematic language can expand.”

Below, Egunjobi discusses the creative process of A Green Fever, his future ambitions, and hopes for Nollywood to become a better-organized industry in light of Prime Video’s funding cuts.

The interview has been editted for length and clarity.

OkayAfrica: How was making A Green Fever different from your previous two films?

Taiwo Egunjobi: I worked with more resources than I had in the past, and I was able to put [more] resources in some things than I normally would. I was able to expand my team a bit, in just trying to attain technical excellence, where in the past I may have carried a lot of the creative load by myself. This time around, I was able to lean on a few more people.

This film is set in the ‘80s, what was the research like?

For me, it’s two things. One is that I was raised by an old man and we had this shared fascination for history. We grew up in a library and I had newspapers and magazines from the ‘70s and ‘80s that I still have in my house today. There was always that fascination. Even some of my early short films were period projects in that sense. I’ve always been fascinated by the Nigerian past.

Secondly, I believe this is a story world that we have not seen a lot of because the ‘80s of Nigerian cinema is lost. We don’t have any of those films anymore. The ‘80s were such a dramatic time, we had that period of having some dalliance with civilian government, then back to intrigue. There was oil money, lots of corruption, there was crime on the rise, but culture was also booming at the time. We had literature, music, film, just such an interesting time. The research was going back to those old magazines and reading, and of course there were elements that I wasn’t sure about where I would call on friends who were there. I consider myself fairly an expert of the ‘80s, so it wasn’t too difficult.

How did you make it into a bottle film?

I write with Isaac Ayodeji a lot and he gets the credit for writing the script. We started from character and then we looked for ways to put that character in trouble. Then we created the backdrop, because backdrops are important in everything that I make, and it goes beyond the physical — more the historical backdrop. For example, my first film In Ibadan was a simple romantic story, but the backdrop was our love for Ibadan, so I photographed the film with a love for Ibadan. This film is about the ‘80s and we had to choose elements from that period that could challenge the characters, so stuff like the military officers, coups, then we put in the bottle element of it, just cage everything in one area and that’s immediate conflict.

A portrait photo of Taiwo Egunjobi.Photo courtesy of Taiwo Egunjobi.

What was it like working with actors that were higher profile than your previous films?

I’d always worked with the lead actor, Temilola Fosudo, so that wasn’t a challenge. My priority in casting was looking for actors that have the profile of actors I’ve always worked with. I really wanted to work with stage actors because it’s a talky film, a lot of dialogue in one area. I also grew up with this sort of actors myself, just being in the University of Ibadan and being around stage actors. So, like William Benson, a very active stage actor, and Toyin Osinaike, a stage legend in Nigeria. Once you get the leading cast right in that way, it sets the tone for the entire production.

I noticed there were some subtle nods to Nigeria in the present. Was that intentional and how does it speak to where Nigeria is currently?

Yeah. I think what it tells us is that nothing has really shifted. The seal of my film apostleship is I believe the Nigerian psyche is what we’re all grappling with and it cuts across tribe, religion and even eras. If we take these stories back to the 1930s, we will find the same elements. That’s just an idea that permeates through my own mind, it’s just that things have been the way they’ve always been. We’re still the same Nigerian people and our outcomes are going to be the same 100 years from now if we don’t try to push our psyche beyond what it is currently.

This film is similar to your previous films, in the sense that it’s shrewd. But would you like to make films that are bigger in scope?

Yeah, I’m going to do those kinds of films that would be more overstated, just stuff that works on a bigger scale. I grew up watching big cinema pictures from Tarantino and Scorcese and filmmakers like that, but all of these people learned their craft through intimate, small dramas that they really worked their way through before taking on bigger canvases. While I enjoy the possibilities of a smaller cast and just indie filmmaking, I’m somebody that has a lot of stories that will require us to be a lot more ambitious. It doesn’t mean we want to go into modeling dramas or soapy romcoms, it’s just stories that require bigger canvases.

So, you take pride in being alternative to the norm in some sense?

I know some people call us New Nollywood but I don’t really care for that tag. We can be respectful of the industry and also know that our cinematic language can expand. That our understanding of cinematic traditions and the language of filmmaking can expand, and then offer alternatives to what is popular. At some point, newer artists will also come and offer alternatives to what we’re doing, I think that’s the cycle. It’s not me being prideful or anything, I just need to enjoy the things I make and want to see. Respectfully, I don’t enjoy some films that are popular, though I respect the intention and the ability to get those types of films done. I just want to do what I enjoy seeing, that’s always the goal.

How did it get on Prime Video?

This film is a collaboration with Nemsia Films, a big Nollywood studio. I’ve had a good relationship with them for about three years now and we really enjoy working together, like I was the second unit director on [Prime Video original] Breath of Life. I was talking to one of the executives there, they liked the draft for A Green Fever and we started developing. Then they said this could go on this platform, and they made it happen. It’s all Nemsia.

I’m sure the deal was settled before the news of Prime Video cutting its funding in Africa. How do you think that affects Nollywood?

I think it affected Nollywood in the sense that a lot of people and studios who had originals were just cut off abruptly. It’s unfortunate but I think it’s an opportunity to move our industry forward into a formal industry. What we have right now is more of an informal system, we’re not organized around the same ideas, in many ways we’re still in 2005 and just doing some marketing. We’re not coming together as an industry as much as we can. This just illustrates why we need to improve our cinema in a way that would be difficult to ignore. I think the nature of Nigerian film is that it’s built on people just finding a way, so the industry will keep moving on, but I think we should take the opportunity to organize properly.