Long before Belgium selected Omen as its Oscar entry for the Best International Feature Film category, Baloji Tshiani had begun the grueling journey of establishing himself as a filmmaker.
His story began in Lubumbashi, the heart of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Born to a Belgian father and a Congolese mother, he was sent to live with his father in Belgium and proceeded to lose all contact with his mother. Feeling disconnected in a new place, he fell into petty crime and ultimately ended up in a youth delinquency center. There, he pursued his love for rap and dance. At just 15, he, along with friends, founded the hip hop group, Starflam. Their first album, Starflam, came out in 1998, followed by Survivant. His lyrical prowess and magnetic stage presence quickly propelled him to fame in the European rap scene.
In 2008, he released his first solo album, Hotel Impala, which was an autobiographical album that earned him a gold certification and two “Octaves de la musique” awards, along with the Rapsat-Lelièvre Award and the Brassens Award for Lyricists.
Having achieved every marker of success within the music industry, Baloji remained determined to push the limits of his own artistry and began pursuing filmmaking. In his own words, he had become bored with the predictable and mundane segues of other films he had watched, and was eager to break the mold and shift paradigms. However, veering away from a successful music career, proved nearly as difficult as making a name for himself in the first place. For one, naysayers told him to “stick to rapping,” and as if things couldn’t get any more dire, funding was a challenge.
“It was a very long process for multiple reasons. For one, the film industry is very reluctant to accept people coming from other businesses or other art forms, like music,” Baloji told STATEMENT. “It took me more than ten years to get one of my projects funded, so that was a real struggle, and this project just came after 12 rejections by film commissions.”
Omen is Baloji’s first feature film. Its widespread acclaim within the film industry is an entirely new experience for the dedicated artist. After self-funding his projects for over four years and not seeing much return, he struck gold in the most rewarding way.
“I was sick of waiting for funding and was even more tired of people telling me that they would never give it to me because I was not from the film industry and didn’t study cinema,” the Zombies creator said. “So I decided to produce my own films, and luckily enough for me, one of them got recognition, and it changed the perspective of how people see my work.”
In spite of the recognition, the Congolese-born European said that the years of rejection did a great deal to reveal his purpose for creating films.
“The rejection teaches you the “why” behind what is pushing you to want to make films, and then you realize that it’s not for the Oscar or the praise; you do it because it’s bigger than you,” he said.
Omen was a labor of love and a reflection of his roots – a commitment to authenticity that has paid off. The film will be showing at the 67th BFI London Film Festival next month, and earlier this year, got a nod at the Cannes Film Festival’s “Un Certain Regard” sidebar, but Baloji’s “why” for breathing life into the project was drawn from within.
“Without trying to be too intellectual on this topic, I’ll say that growing up, I was raised like I was a sorcerer who was connected to bad forces, and all my life, I tried to explain to people that you’re not the name that you didn’t choose, you are more than that.”
In Swahili, Baloji originally meant “man of science.” However, during the colonial era, Christian evangelists who settled in the area reframed the name to mean “man of the occult sciences” and later to mean “sorcerer.”
“When your name means sorcerer and is connected to the devil and bad forces, you just want to prove to everybody that you can also appreciate beauty,” the filmmaker said. “But that’s my name, that’s my fucking name.”
When you ask Baloji how he feels about his rising success and recognition in film, there is almost a bitter-sweet hesitance to accept the reality of the moment.
“It’s a mixed feeling because at first I also wanted to represent Congo, which is my first country, but Congo was not eligible. Sadly, we don’t have the structure in Congo to be presented for the Oscar yet,” he said. “When we presented to Belgium, I was not expecting to be the choice because there were a lot of experienced, professional directors and films to choose from.”
Determined to capitalize on Omen’s success, Baloji is already channeling his creative restlessness towards his second feature film, a project he hopes will be released within the next few years. Throughout his journey, even now as a recognized name, he says that one of the most important lessons he has learned is to embrace mistakes.
“I’ve learned that some mistakes are good to keep as mistakes because I think perfection is boring. I always say that in music, you can listen to a singer on stage whose voice is cracking and who doesn’t fully know the lyrics but still end up feeling like you believe in her more than the perfect opera singer who hits all the notes perfectly,” Baloji said. “So, what I’ve learned about mistakes along the way, within reason, is that they are a part of the process.”
Netflix’s Miseducation is a young adult series that follows Mbali Hadebe (played by Buntu Petse), a teen in South Africa, who leaves home after her mother is arrested for fraud at a party she threw. The six-part drama, produced by Burnt Onion Productions, the studio behind How to Ruin Christmas, focuses on Mbali as she tries to climb the social ladder at her new school, leaving behind a trail of chaos.
Petse is well aware that Mbali’s penchant for causing drama irks viewers. “I think it’s good that people found it annoying. It means you’re not someone who loves chaos in their life, so you’re doing something right. But I think it is a great character trait for Mbali because she actually doesn’t care,” Petse tells STATEMENT. “If she hasn’t done something chaotic, then she hasn’t lived through the day.”
Petse isn’t worried that playing Mbali will affect her likability, having already established herself amongst audiences. She was recently a presenter on South African Broadcasting Corporation’s Teenagers on a Mission, and had her first role in Generations: The Legacy, a soap opera that “celebrates the hopes and dreams of South Africans who aspire for a better future.” Depicting vastly different characters, all with an incontrovertible confidence, is Petse’s greatest strength, a quality that extends off the screen as well. She speaks with authority, but admits she didn’t always feel so self-possessed.
“Honey, the self-confidence in myself and my body was something I didn’t necessarily have walking into this, and the wardrobe department was like girl, you got a good body, and we’re gonna show it,” she says, smiling. “I didn’t really believe them, but now that I got to watch it, I think I represent a lot of girls who are considered a lot bigger than society’s norms, and I’m just happy that I was able to carry my body so confidently on screen, and I hope that it inspires other young girls who look like me.”
Petse spoke to STATEMENT about Miseducation, her creative process, and what’s next.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
STATEMENT: Now, you’d agree that Mbali made rash decisions, right?
Petse:A hundred per cent. I think she deals with the consequences when they come, but she is impulsive. However, at the core of it all, she has a goal: to be at the top. So, I guess this was a consistency with her making rash decisions.
Okay, so what was the process of bringing her to life, like for you?
So, luckily for me, at the time, obviously, I didn’t think it was such a great thing having to go to auditions and callbacks the amount of times that I did. But in hindsight, that was when I got to really know Mbali, and I think I had an edge over her because, by the time we started shooting, I had performed her so many times. Yes, it was one body of work, but I was able to play it in many diverse ways to showcase my talent. And in that time, I got to know Mbali on a deeper level.
Is this how it usually is for the other characters you’ve got to play?
Me getting into character?
Yes.
I’ve been doing this for four years, and the other characters I am currently working on are in a different format than this young adult series. We get to focus on other things, whereas here, I got to be boisterous with her [Mbali].
What’s one thing that was challenging in this regard? Getting into character and everything?
What separates me from Mbali is my self-centeredness. But then, I had to take a step back to better understand the paradoxical phenomenon that is Mbali because she is the opposite of that. But in doing that, I was able to bring in the selfishness. It was a challenge, but having the support of my cast mates and them saying, “I’m really seeing her through your performance,” helped me.
You mentioned the support you got from other members of the cast. What was it like filming and collaborating with them?
It was amazing. There were veterans and new people in the game. Working so closely with Mpho Sebeng and Lunga Shabalala was an experience because I learned a lot. I was just like a sponge absorbing.
I also loved that the head writer and director allowed us to share our opinions. We understood that they were there to direct us correctly, but they let us share our thoughts on our characters. That open air provided us with so much confidence and validity.
That’s great! Back to Mbali, do you think she ever made the right decision?
It’s very hard for me to answer that question because I’ve grown to respect Mbali. I think when you try to embody a character, you can’t judge her too much. You need to try to understand her motives and where they’re coming from. And I think I do have a newfound respect for her even more because there are a lot of people who dream and want to do things but don’t get to. So if people are going to be annoyed at the character, that’s something they should at least take away; in chaos, she did it consistently and diligently.
And what about her friends? Will they ever forgive her?
They should! I mean, no one deserves to be crucified. No one is God; even he said we should forgive [laughs].
So, would you agree that Mbali is an emotionally challenging character? If yes, how did you approach this? What were some of the techniques you used to tap into her emotions?
I’m going to go back to the script. At the table read, I felt what she felt. I was quite empathetic, and when it got to putting the script out on the floor, I was already invested in who she was. Whatever made her angry or happy made me feel the same way. It sounds crazy because you really do fall in love with this person as you have the massive duty of embodying them.
How do you stay inspired?
I stay inspired by other people. When I’m having a bad day, for example, I look at someone else and don’t know their story or what side of the bed they woke up from that morning. But seeing them working diligently makes me want to pull myself up. Seeing everyone do their best in each department kept me going.
That’s a good way to stay motivated. What was the last film or show you watched?
Watched? I think it was Miseducation [laughs], but let’s make this a bit difficult. So there’s a movie on Prime Video called “Red, White, And Royal Blue,” and it’s lovely. I enjoyed it.
That’s a good film. What are some of your favorite TV shows, and how have they inspired you as an actor?
I’d definitely say “Blood and Water” because I’m a huge fan. Also, how the actors embodied the characters was amazing to see, and I knew that was the standard I wanted to uphold, especially for a young adult drama. “How to Ruin Christmas” is another; They ate and left no crumbs. And obviously, the chefs did Miseducation as well, so we had to keep it cooking.
On the international front, I’d definitely say “Heartbreak High.” I loved the chaos those characters embodied and knew that was how I wanted to dive into my characters.
Still, on inspiration, when was the last time you were creatively inspired?
Wow. I think it was definitely the SAFTA’s nominees brunch this year alongside Netflix. I met many people in the industry I revere and am a fan of. I got to speak with most of them and was inspired because these people have walked in my shoes and [have] done what I’ve done, and it was so amazing to see how humble they were to share their knowledge. It fed me — fed me nice.
And what’s the most important thing you’ve learned about creativity?
I have realized that creativity requires discipline. A lot of people like to think that people just flow, but it does take discipline in yourself, making sure you are able to work, liaising with other people, and holding yourself accountable. Making sure you wake up every day and get the work done. And with Miseducation, I got to put what I have learned to the test. I know I still have a long way to go, but I was happy I had the tools and equipment to complete the show.
What’s the craziest or most unexpected thing that has happened to you on set?
So, I had a panic attack on set because I wasn’t necessarily used to smoking that much at a go. As a creative, your characters are drinkers, smokers, etc., and it’s easier to cheat with alcohol. But with smoking, we have to see the smoke, and I think I got overzealous, and it went to my head, and I was seeing stars. Luckily, the medical team was there to help me immediately and check my vitals.
Sorry about that. Panic attacks are terrible.
It’s part of the game. [laughs]
So, what’s next for you?
You know I signed NDAs, I can’t say much [laughs.] No, I’m kidding. You can still watch “Generations,” and right now, I’m just trying to be in a place where I can say yes to opportunities as soon as they come, and that entails preparing my body, my bind. So when something is in store and ready for y’all’s eyes, it’s just as hard as Miseducation.
In July 2023, Disney+ announced the release of an African-inspired anthology of animation shorts titled Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire. Egyptian production house, Giraffics, and its CEO, Abdulrahman Khedr, worked on the series, producing First Totem Problems and doing pre-production on Stardust. Stardust, an Egyptian-fronted short, tells a coming-of-age story against a North African backdrop while First Totem Problems reimagines a popular South African folklore in a tech-enhanced African utopia.
As a kid growing up in Cairo, Abdulrahman Khedr was utterly hypnotised by the transformative power of movies. He remembers his father using those mediums to pass him essential lessons about life, humility, and kindness. One film specifically, Steven Spielberg’s 1987 classic, Empire of the Sun, was a useful lesson in being tender-hearted. “I was 7 or 8 years old when I watched the movie,” Abdulrahman said on a Zoom call with STATEMENT recently. “It’s an example of how my dad used films to teach us how to treat people in a good way.”
When the time came for Khedr to study at the university, he bowed to age-long Egyptian conventions and decided to study engineering, but his heart wasn’t in it. In his final year in school, he decided to co-found a production company, Axeer, with some friends and went on to produce music videos, infomercials, and a feature film. Keen to broaden his creative sphere, he co-founded another company, Giraffics, in 2017, hoping to produce Egypt’s first global animation film.
A continent-wide search for collaborators and funding brought them to Stuart Forrest, the CEO of Triggerfish Animations, the largest animation firm in Africa. When the opportunity to work on a series of afro-futuristic animated shorts for the project that would become Disney+’s Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire came up, Giraffics and Khedr were invited to contribute stories to the anthology.
Photo credit: Disney+
Aside from accepting one of the stories, Stardust, pitched by Giraffics, the company was tapped to produce another film, First Totem Problems. Primarily inspired by South African folklore, First Totem Problems resulted from a Pan-African collaboration between Giraffics and South African director, Tshepo Moche, opening a world of possibilities for such collaborations going forward.
STATEMENT spoke to Khedr about the state of animation in Egypt, working on Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire, collaborating with a South African director, and the future of African animation.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
What is the landscape of the Egyptian animation industry?
Khedr: So, basically, we have a lot of studios that work on animated commercials, and are good on that front. There are amazing studios in Egypt, amazing talents, and amazing artists, but the thing is animation costs a lot of money to produce, and it takes a long time because you can shoot a feature film in Egypt in three or four months maybe, and then, you release it to theatres, you make money, you sell it to streaming services, but with animation films, it takes 3 to 4 years in production, and then, with the story and trying to sell the film and everything, the process can take up to 5 years, and that’s why no one really does it, because the ROI is low. There’s no pay, and now, there’s really no ROI in terms of animation. And when it comes to shows, I mean we have animated shows, but they are not many. You can find one every few years, so it’s still a bit basic.
When did the conversation start about working on these animated shorts for Disney?
We’d been in talks with Triggerfish. We met with Stuart first, and then we met online with Anthony, and we’ve been talking a lot about The Grand Night, our film. They know how we do things, we know how they do things. We know that they are the biggest animation studio in Africa, and they know that we are the up-and-coming studio, and they also do 3D, we do 2D. At some point, Triggerfish approached us, and they were like, “We have a pitch…For Disney, we have this show that we are running and we want you guys to pitch your stories,” So, we invited several Egyptian writers and directors to submit their stories, which we then sent to Disney.
Our story, Stardust, which was accepted was directed by Ahmed Teilab. We started working on the story and then decided that this film should be in 3D, not 2D. And because we don’t do 3D, Triggerfish said they were going to do the production, leaving us to do the pre-production. ” We did some sort of consultancy with Teilab during pre-production, but Triggerfish did amazing work in the production. A month after we started working on “Stardust,” they said, “Okay. We have another film, and It’s by a South African director, Tshepo Moche. It’s amazing.” We heard the story, and we read it, and then we submitted our proposal to actually do the production, and worked with Tshepo from the beginning to the end.
I’m really curious about “First Totem Problems.” It’s a South African story rooted in the folk tradition of South Africa, and it was produced by you, an Egyptian company. How did you get into the creative space to translate that kind of story? What was the discussion like with the writer, the producer and the director? How did that come about?
Well, the process with “First Totem Problems” was eye-opening for us because somehow, and I’m not exaggerating about it, it really did inform us more about Africa because as Egypt, we are part of Africa, but then—
Your culture is a bit different.
Yeah. Exactly. Our culture is a bit different. They call us part of the MENA, but we are Africans too. But then, during the process, we started feeling like we connected way more with Africa. I mean, when it comes to the cultural heritage, to the language—not like the actual languages, love languages or family ties, everything—it was amazing. Working with Tshepo was an amazing experience because you have a South African writer and director, Tshepo, and then the assistant director is Egyptian, with an all-Egyptian artist and production team. And we spent the first few months in pre-production knowing and learning more about the story, the characters, the best things to do and not do, the character features, and the words that we should use a lot when writing this.
To make it authentic?
Exactly. Because we wanted the experience to be extremely authentic, and then, we actually flew Tshepo to Egypt with the producer on the show. They came to Egypt and stayed with us for two weeks in the office. Whenever you hear Tshepo, the director, talking, she always talks about family. We are her small family because somehow, the team spent more time with her absorbing everything. I’ve never had this many meetings in my life, and they really connected. Flying Tshepo to Egypt strengthened our connection more, and then, the team was able to think like her and do what she wanted in terms of culture and heritage.
This brings me to a question that is really central to the vision of animation on the continent. What do these kinds of collaborations from different parts of Africa, and different cultures, mean for the future of Pan-African collaborations and the animation industry on the continent?
Africa is still a baby in terms of the animation and creative industries. The US has been way ahead, Europe is way ahead, but Africa has its pros and cons. One of the pros is that we still have many stories to tell. Our storytelling and formal storytelling are different, and the stories we tell are different. It’s literally the land of untold stories, right? There’s authentic global content from the continent before, so we have a lot of years ahead of us to do it. People expect more and more stories. That’s the thing about “Kizazi Moto,” It was so fresh because no one had sold a thing like this before. But the thing is, I don’t think that one studio can only do it.
Photo credit: Disney+
It would really depend on continental partnerships and continental co-productions between different companies and studios from different countries across the continent to actually do something this big, and it really happened with Kizazi Moto. Yes, Triggerfish was the main production company. They managed the whole project because they are bigger than us, but they did it with many African studios, writers, and directors. So, it gave it an authentic voice being done by a South African production company and with companies from Africa.
I really believe that cooperation, collaboration, and partnerships between different studios will take us further because the cost is extremely expensive. Most of these studios aren’t big enough to take one whole project on their own.
Okay. I’m also curious about “Stardust.” What was the process of getting that together? This one seems like it was done mostly within Egypt. So, can you run me through the process, the timeline, and how it all came about?
So, “Stardust” was the reverse. For “Stardust,” it was an Egyptian writer and director. The pre-production team were all Egyptian, the concept artists, the illustrators, etc. It’s not an Egyptian story. It’s more of a North African story, and you don’t know where it takes place, but you know it is in the Sahara, North Africa. It took some time to finish the story and the script and find something that could hold the space during the production. Once we delivered the pre-production work and the concepts for the story and everything, Triggerfish started with their team to do the production. The production of the two series took almost a year. The actual production took a year. Teilab actually flew to South Africa to finish the film.
Is there a plan for Giraffics to do a showcase soon? What is it looking like in the future?
So, “Kizazi Moto” was the biggest project we have worked on. But we have a lot of projects in our backline. We have The Grand Night — which we’re currently writing the script for — based on folklore and is also a puppet theatrical act in Egypt. It’s like a very old one. We are giving it a retouch and writing a whole script for a full-feature animated film, with the film hopefully being produced by Triggerfish.
We also have another film that we are working on called Cleo with Barry Cook. He was the director of Mulan. Right now, he’s working on this film with Lori. It’s about young Cleopatra. It’s actually a nice project. We did some of the visual development work, But it hasn’t been picked up yet. For us, we know that being the first studio from the North African region to work with Disney gives us some sort of knowledge and experience in terms of the pipeline, the things to do, what not to do, and the quality control we have on our projects. So, we hope that this could help us.
I noticed the elements of Afro-futurism across the series and even in “First Totem Problems” and “Stardust” How did the visualisation process come about? How were you able to zero in on these thoughts and bring them to life?
After talking to most directors on the show, I learnt that they had complete freedom. I mean, they had guidelines from Disney and the executives on the project, and it helped them a lot, but these guidelines were not constraints. They were left with the complete freedom to be authentic and do whatever they wanted and envisioned.
So, everything came from every director’s personal beliefs or experience. They had complete freedom to imagine what they wanted. Teilab imagined something, and Tshepo imagined something else, but they all had a theme, and that’s why it became so diverse. Also, everything on its own stands out as a specific project.
I think imagination is one of the most important things needed in Africa, our people need to dare to imagine stuff, and that’s why I feel like a project like Kizazi Moto is important. How important is it that the imaginations brought to life on Kizazi Moto are something people can watch now?
We have enough talented artists with amazing creativity, talent, and imagination to actually come up with anything, and this has shown in Kizazi Moto that when African talents are given a chance, they produce something amazing. I remember when we were in Annecy this year doing the screening of the Kizazi Moto anthology, and then there were questions for Disney and Triggerfish.
After the questions, there was this one guy that said, “Okay. I don’t have a question, but I want to say something. I’m from Nigeria, I work in an animation studio and watched this series. It really gives us hope because it is the first time to see something as authentic as this made by Africans.” He said, “I’m talking on my behalf, on my studio’s behalf, and on behalf of most of the studios that I know; this gives us so much hope.” So, I guess, if there is the chance, if there’s the opportunity for the studios to work, for the artists to work, then there’s the imagination and creativity that can start everything.
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Our Father, the Devil asks – is repentance possible? Ellie Foumbi reunites a woman scarred by unspeakable tragedy with the very man responsible for it. Ultimately, Foumbi grapples with the notion (choice) of devout forgiveness, in contrast to being given the perfect opportunity for revenge through what could be argued is divine intervention itself.
With an MFA in Directing from Columbia University’s School of the Arts, Foumbi took her first directorial swings with shorts like Zenith (2017) and No Traveler Returns (2019), which caught the attention of the creators of the BET anthology series Tales, and they invited her to direct an episode.
“The director had seen a short of mine that he loved, but I hadn’t directed a feature, and it’s difficult to get an episode of television without a feature. I was in LA about to start doing a lab when they asked me to meet with the network. I didn’t realize that I was being considered, and I was shocked when they said they would hire me to do the episode. There was a lot of fear going into that episode because it was so sudden,” she tells STATEMENT.
Foumbi’s time at BET was transformative for developing her confidence. She immediately began working on her directorial debut, Our Father, the Devil, which has drawn out all the plaudits. The psychological thriller, which premiered at the 2021 Venice Film Festival, follows the story of Marie (Babetida Sadjo), an African refugee who leads a quiet life in a small French town, but who is reminded of her dark past by the emergence of the charismatic Father Patrick (Souleymane Sy Savane). Described as “stirring” and “a tour de force”, the film has received several awards, including Best Feature Narrative at the 2022 Indie Memphis Film Festival and the Grand Jury Prize at the 2022 Heartland Film Festival.
STATEMENT spoke to Foumbi about her filmmaking journey, the influence of Nollywood on African cinema, and future prospects for Black filmmakers.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
STATEMENT: You strongly identify as Cameroonian. How would you describe filmmaking back home? What do you think can be improved, and how can Africa export storytelling in a more expansive way?
Foumbi: We don’t have the resources that we need. I think the infrastructure just isn’t available; people are finding ways to put out work in the manner they know best, but there is a considerable gap as far as funding is concerned. From a national perspective, we still have ways to go, and I would love to be part of that wave of filmmakers that helps to put the spotlight back on filmmaking.
Nollywood has also been a model for many African filmmakers. When you have an industry on the continent that has grown and has had the impact that Nollywood has had, in your mind, it becomes less of a pipedream and more of a possibility. We need to keep creating more structures like that, which let African filmmakers know that no matter where you are, there is a model of success that you can follow.
What inspired the screenplay of Our Father The Devil?
My dad did a lot of work in Africa, particularly in Rwanda. When he was there, one of his colleagues got me to make contact with a survivor of the (1994) Genocide. As he shared his lived experiences, those were some of the things I became interested in. I wanted to explore the perspective of child soldiers who get caught up in conflicts of this nature. When I started researching, I found that all the movies were about the conflict and very little about the aftermath. I also wanted to explore this concept of redemption because, in my research on child soldiers, one of the biggest hurdles in their healing process is their shame. A lot of these kids don’t know what they are doing. They are roped into violence, watch their families being murdered, and must do the same to stay alive. It’s a vicious cycle.
The lead actors in this film – Babetida Sadjo and Souleymane Sy Savane – have received praise for their performances, and deservedly so. Sadjo, in particular, brought an edgy dimension to the character of Marie. What influenced your casting choices?
I just follow my gut. In 2015, Souleymane (Sy Savane) and I were in a film together. I felt he was excellent, and I was surprised he wasn’t doing more. Meeting him actually inspired me to write this role for him. A year earlier, a friend of mine had been in a film with Babetida (Sadjo) called ‘Wasteland.’ He had sent me the trailer for the film, and her face completely transfixed me. However, I didn’t connect with her until 2019, and I hoped she would accept the script because if she had turned it down, I had no idea who else would have taken on that role. Thankfully, she loved the story and said she knew what to do with the character.
Would you say that for African filmmakers, things that play out in the home continent influence the kinds of stories we tell?
It’s part of our subconscious framework, how we view the world. Still, part of the reason I made ‘Our Father, the Devil’ is because I felt that African filmmakers are placed in some sort of box, and I think that what this film does is step out of that: we’re doing a different facet of a character. The stories about illegal migration are valid, but they are tired. We have other stories to tell. I think that African filmmakers have to push back against those tropes. When it comes to issuing grants in Europe, the stories that reinforce those stereotypes tend to be rewarded. They (European financiers) need to ask themselves why they do not want to see other kinds of stories.
You are the 2nd Black female director to feature at Venice. What would you say about the opportunities for Black women filmmakers? Are there still glass ceilings to be broken? Are there opportunities for collaboration?
A whole wave of women are killing it out there: Alice Diop, Chinonye Chukwu, Mariama Diallo, Ekwa Msangi and Nana (Mensah), among others. However, there’s still much to be done in terms of access. For every ten white filmmakers who enter the door, you only find one Black person in the room. Beyond that, I have had several discussions with Black women filmmakers about their respective journeys, and there is still a certain expectation about the kinds of stories that Black filmmakers should tell. I am curious about the opportunities made available for Black women filmmakers and what they are being ‘allowed’ or encouraged to make. We should have free rein to tell whatever type of story we want, especially since it will still be told through the lens of our Blackness.
Our Father, the Devil is currently screening at select theaters across the U.S.
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African Cinema on the Festival Circuit: A Renaissance Story
Over the last 15 years, the scope and trajectory of the film industry in Nigeria has undergone a revolution. Previously synonymous with the direct-to-video format, Nollywood has elevated its production quality to that of global cinematic releases and digital streaming content. As a result, the need for both high octane adventure and realism has never been greater.
With a new wave of noir productions like King of Boys, Shanty Town, and Brotherhood looking to capture the grit and grimness of Nigerian life, the need for realistic depictions of these experiences has warranted the rise in popularity of stunts coordinators who are helping to bring Nollywood’s elaborate and ambitious action sequences to life against all odds. “Originally, I was just an actor and stunt was something I only did for theatre and fun,” veteran Nollywood stunt coordinator, David ‘Mr Nollywood’ Patrick tells STATEMENT about his route into the profession. “As I grew up, I heard people say that stunt direction and coordination could also be applied in movies and that was intriguing to me so I started working on short movies as well as home videos before moving to cinema productions and finally movies made for streaming platforms.”
As one of the earliest recognisable faces in the stunt section of Nollywood, Patrick has been choreographing film sequences and coordinating stunts in Nollywood for the better part of two decades and helping to codify what the roles of stunt coordinators should be within an industry constantly in flux. “I spent a lot of time clarifying what we do and building publicity for the role over the years,” says the director who has worked on stunts for productions like Mamba’s Diamond, Merry Men 2, and Shanty Town. “I had to let people know that it shouldn’t be the work of the director to teach people martial arts or fighting on set. The director should focus on the conceptual aspect of the project while the stunts coordinator would focus on the physical aspects that need choreography. All that matters is that they work within the vision of the movie’s director.”
The arrival of streaming platforms like Netflix, Prime Video, and Showmax in Nigeria has opened up a new stream of capital to filmmakers allowing them to be more experimental with their work. “Nigerian producers are becoming braver in how they make movies and that’s what’s bringing stunts to the limelight in Nollywood,” a rising stuntman and fight choreographer, Michelangelo Ilesanmi, says. It’s an opinion that film journalist and critic, Daniel Okechuwku, agrees with: “We care more about stunts looking real these days so the way they are staged and cut in the editor’s room makes them nicer on the eyes. The reasons for this range from more exposure and film knowledge to having more capital to afford better stuntmen and train the actors on their stunts.”
In the last two years, Nollywood has witnessed a return to the Yoruba epic dramas that were a stock in trade at the turn of the 2000s. Films like King of Thieves (Agẹṣinkólé), Aníkúlápó, and Jagun Jagun are tremendously elaborate productions that rely on stunts and fight sequences to translate the bravado of their leading acts.
It can often be a challenge to ascertain what style of stunts works for movies like this that are situated around the 16th and 18th centuries. Rising stunts coordinator, Adamson Kolade, says that it all comes down to rigorous research and finding a style that works for the movie. “I had to go over the script for Jagun Jagun over and over because I wanted to understand the era,” he explains. “When I finished studying it, I decided to centre our fight sequences on a merger of old Indian and Nigerian methods. So, we created fictional fight sequences for a fictional movie.”
For all the excitement around the rise of stunts in Nollywood, it remains a profession fraught with difficulties and dangers ranging from training accidents to on-set incidents. According to Patrick, the biggest issue is the lack of healthcare insurance for stunt practitioners. “If someone dies on duty, they have literally died on their own so it’s a risk every time we go to work,” he says. “We don’t have a legally binding agreement with any production even for burials in the case of fatality. If I pull up official documents to be signed by productions, they’ll often cancel the contracts and scrap the fight scenes. Effectively, we’re sacrificing our lives and safety.”
Per Patrick, the rise of a new generation of stunt coordinators and directors eager to put their skills to the test could have an adverse effect on the push for better working conditions. “A lot of the new stunt practitioners are martial arts coaches or dancers who decided to transition to this field so they don’t often know the full scope of things,” he says. “I think the industry should have a resolve to improve the welfare of stunt practitioners. It should be reflected in the budgets assigned for the stunts department for movies as well. It should be up to producers and executive producers to ensure that stunt practitioners are protected against health emergencies and incidents.”
Film & TV
The Future of Nigerian Film: Backyard Studios in the Suburbs
In recent years, African films have gained well deserved recognition at the most prestigious international film festivals. There was a time when festivals like Sundance, Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), and Tribeca Film Festival predominantly showcased Western productions, but the tides have changed. These festivals are now embracing a rich tapestry of narratives and talents from the African continent, signifying a remarkable turning point in the world of cinema, as African filmmakers receive their long-overdue spotlight on the global stage.
At the heart of this burgeoning success is a new generation of African filmmakers who have unleashed their creativity, ingenuity, and cultural perspectives to captivate audiences worldwide. From Kenya to Nigeria, Ghana to South Africa, and beyond, these filmmakers have woven tales that are both unique and universally resonant. Their films celebrate diverse identities, explore poignant social issues, and offer glimpses into African traditions, all while challenging outdated stereotypes and tropes.
Sundance, once a haven for independent American cinema, has now become a melting pot of global talent with African films capturing the attention of audiences and industry professionals alike. This year, several African films received critical acclaim at the Utah-based festival including CJ Obasi’sMami Wata andSofia Alaoui’s Animalia, two films that won jury prizes at the festival.
African films are increasingly finding their place in this cinematic haven, capturing the attention of audiences and industry professionals alike. One such personal essay film, Milisuthando by South African director Milisuthando Bongela, left a profound impact at Sundance with its evocative storytelling of the apartheid regime in South Africa and negotiating the complex world against the backdrop of post-apartheid South Africa.
For Love Nafi, a DMV-based native, African entertainment as a whole, is getting its just recognition, although there are still some challenges.
“Similar to Africa’s takeover of music, African cinema has definitely permeated the global stage and I feel that there’s a budding amount of exceptional films gaining traction and being recognized at major film festivals,” Love Nafi said. “However, equity and representation within these mediums can sometimes still remain an issue. While African films are being included, all of our stories aren’t necessarily being amplified in comparison to our counterparts. As a whole, I think it’s important for Africa to continue to find ways to create its own stage.”
The Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) has also embraced the richness of African cinema. In the festival’s Africa Hub, an exclusive platform dedicated to African films, vibrant voices from the continent resonate across the world, and festival goers this year will have the opportunity of seeing many of such films by talented African filmmakers, including I Do Not Come to You By Chance, executive produced by Nigerian veteran actress and producer, Genevive Nnaji.
Tribeca, nestled in the vibrant heart of New York City, has also embraced the renaissance of African cinema. The festival has demonstrated its commitment to showcasing the diversity of African stories, be they tales of urban life, ancient folklore, or historical events. Nigerian Prince by Nigerian director Faraday Okoro stunned Tribeca audiences with its portrayal of a troubled American teenager Eze, who is sent away to his mother’s native Nigeria against his will, and gets entangled in a web of criminal activity. Okoro’s masterful direction, combined with a compelling screenplay, unraveled the temptations and showcased his grip on artistic direction.
The rise of African cinema has not occurred in isolation but as a result of concerted efforts from both filmmakers and festival organizers.
Uwe Boll, a German filmmaker, who has become renowned for his adaptations of video game franchises says that Africa is gaining a grip. “This year, at Cannes it was all about Africa, one of the most discussed and hyped continents. More than five films ran at the festival and in the market even more — which is fantastic,” he said.
Four Daughters, crafted by the visionary Tunisian director Kaouther Ben Hania — renowned for The Man Who Sold His Skin, along with Banel & Adama, the remarkable inaugural work by Senegalese-French filmmaker Ramata-Toulaye Sy, formed an intriguing cinematic pair at the festival this year.
Boll also added that countries in the Middle East, such as Morocco and Tunisia, have been long-time active locations for various big Hollywood productions. “Movies like Mission Impossible or Gladiator have utilized several Middle Eastern locations to shoot, and recently, significant investment funds have been entering the scene, contributing millions of dollars to co-produce films.”
Another catalyst for the recognition of African films has been the growing demand for diverse narratives in the global film industry. Audiences hungry for fresh perspectives and untold stories have welcomed African films with open arms, eager to be transported to new worlds and immersed in rich cultural experiences. This demand has prompted film distributors and streaming platforms to acquire more African films, extending their reach to viewers across the globe. In 2022, Netflix and UNESCO collaborated on an African Folktales competition, which was a chance of a lifetime for rising Sub-Saharan African filmmakers and storytellers to breathe new life into ancient tales, flaunting their brilliance to the world in their very own languages by seizing the moment, rewriting the narrative, and embracing the global stage.
There’s also the co-productions between African filmmakers and global partners helping to bridge the gap and unravel African cinema to wider audiences. Elesin Oba, The King’s Horseman, a historical drama was co-produced by Ebonylife Films and Netflix. In 2022, it was selected for screening at TIFF and now streams globally on Netflix.
In spite of the resurgence of African films and the support African governments and institutions provide to local film industries — a UNESCO study shows that merely 19 out of 54 African countries provide financial support to filmmakers — there is still a long way to go in terms of funding and support, especially when many filmmakers across the continent encounter obstacles such as restrictions while filming.
Chrissy Collins, the Chief Communication Officer for Pan African Chamber of Commerce also agrees that there is still a long way to go.
“It’s a powerful step towards breaking stereotypes and fostering a deeper understanding of African cultures. However, we still have a long way to go and we must continue to support and uplift African filmmakers to ensure this progress is sustained and amplified,” Collins said. “This way, we can break the stero-typical films that Hollywood creates based on an americanized view of Africa.”
Beyond the immediate success at international festivals, the rise of African cinema has ignited a collective sense of pride and hope within the African film community. As a result of this newfound recognition, a new generation of filmmakers have been empowered to tell their stories. This cultural renaissance has sparked a virtuous cycle, nurturing a vibrant ecosystem that fosters creativity, innovation, and artistic expression across the continent.
According to Nataleah Hunter-Young, an International Programmer at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), African cinema has long been celebrated under the franchise.
“TIFF has had a long and unique history of spotlighting African cinema, so for us, the African presence isn’t new. We celebrated 25 years of that presence in 2020 with ‘Planet Africa 25’ screenings, panels and parties, much of which is documented online, but as the African industries on the continent grow, so too does their presence at the Festival, and that growth is reflected in the strength and creative breadth of the productions in each year’s Official Selection,” she said.
The entertainment landscape is evolving, and with that comes the increased demand for African stories.“What has changed, from a global perspective, might be the audience demand for African content and as a result, African creators are receiving more and more attention from European and North American industry stakeholders, particularly from streamers which is still the easiest way for North American audiences to watch African productions,” Hunter-Young added.
In spite of the expansion of the streaming era, Hunter-Young believes that streamers alone can’t dictate industry growth, so festivals will continue to play a major role in audience development and in pushing industry expectations.
The recognition of African films at these international festivals is not merely a matter of tokenism; it reflects a growing awareness of the exceptional talent emanating from the continent. Gone are the days when African cinema was limited to niche audiences or considered exotic novelties. Today, these films transcend cultural boundaries, resonating with viewers from all walks of life, igniting empathy, and fostering cross-cultural curiosity.
Music
African Music has Arrived on the Global Stage. What’s Next?
Supa Team 4, originally titled Mama K’s Team 4, is Netflix’s first-ever African animation series, set in a futuristic version of Lusaka, Zambia’s capital. The lighthearted action-adventure series centers on the lives of four schoolgirls (Monde, Zikomo, Komana, and Temwe) in Kamiji Secondary School whose lives are changed when they’re suddenly tasked with the responsibility of working as covert superheroes fighting to keep the bustling city of Lusaka safe.
Monde is a new student and a majorette, Zikomo is a football star, Komana is the type-A brilliant student, and Temwe is the impulsive rascal with a voracious appetite. Team 4 operates under the supervision of Mama K, a tech-savvy sixty-year-old woman who was a covert government spy in her heyday. With the help of her AI assistant, Technological Operations Management Interface (T.O.M.I) à la Iron Man’s Jarvis, Mama K equips each of the girls with super suits and high-tech gear tailored to their personalities with code names to boot. In each episode, the girls are presented with a supervillain to defeat, and they are also expected to juggle their world-saving duties along with their academics and other whimsical adolescent misadventures.
The eight-part series, created by native Zambian Malenga Mulendema, was announced in 2019 but had been in development since 2015. In its early stages, the show was pitched to development executives from the South African computer animation film studio, Triggerfish and The Walt Disney Company. Eventually Mulendema became one of the 8 successful candidates of the Triggerfish Story Lab — a pan-African talent search to assist budding African creators and film producers by providing them with mentorship and funding to develop their ideas into video content for the international market.
Following an increasing demand for African content, with successful shows like South Africa’s “Blood and Water,” Supa Team 4 comes on the heels of Netflix’s plan to significantly invest (since 2016, the streaming giant reportedly invested approximately $175 million in film production across Africa) in the continent’s creative economy with the goal of amplifying the voices of African creators and showcasing the rich diversity of African stories.
Additionally, the recent success and acclaim of films like Marvel’s Black Panther (although set in the fictional nation of Wakanda) and The Woman King indicate that audiences are very interested in stories that center Africans — our history, our stories, the scramble for our resources, and how we see the world. Mulendema stated that her original desire for creating the show was to spotlight Africa and increase investment and production on the continent. Zambia’s capital is now being hailed as a potential hub for its creators eager to dabble in the animation scene.
On top of that, Mulendema has drawn the attention of management companies like Newmation, determined to mine African stories and “hyper focused on producing new films and series from Africa for a global audience”. Newmation also recently signed Ziki Nelson, creator of the upcoming original animated Disney + series, Iwájú and is primed to produce more African content. Furthermore, with shows like the pan-African animated series, Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire, being lauded as a watershed moment for the African animation industry and Netflix partnering with GOBELINS to offer scholarships to African animators, it’s clear that the African animation scene is picking up steam and slowly taking center stage on a global scale.
Supa Team 4 is propelled with a spirited theme song performed by singer and rapper, Sampa the Great, and its characters are cheerfully voiced by John Kani (who played T’Challa’s father in Black Panther), Pamela Nomvete, Zowa Ngwira, Namisa Mdlalose, Kimani Arthur and Nancy Sekhokoane (The Woman King). It’s a frequently funny show that manages to interweave elements of science and comedy organically. For instance, episode four sees the team battle a supervillain crocodile named The Alley Gator, and when Monde reminds the villain that there are no alligators in Africa [just crocodiles], he quickly acquiesces and admits to choosing his moniker out of convenience. The show’s fifth episode sees Team 4 fight a woman named Sunblock; a self-aggrandizing supervillain who literally blocks the sun and harnesses its solar power to run her vlog. When the team admits to never having heard of her, they run a search for her online and only come up with results for sunblock lotion.
Most of the episodes end with the team (mostly the tech whizz, Komana if I’m being honest) defeating the villains by coming up with scientific solutions and applying them; whether it’s draining solar energy from Sunblock back to the city’s power stations or figuring out how to use non-metals to defeat a magnet-wielding villain. The point the show succeeds in making is that African wisdom and knowledge – not just ideas/achievements propagating from the Global North – are essential in the advancement of science and technology.
Supa Team 4 draws inspiration from the plethora of media centered around mystery-solving, crime-fighting squads and anyone well versed in kid’s animation shows like Action Pack may find it a tad formulaic. But it’s the show’s distinct characters, colorful aesthetics, and real-world-futuristic setting that make it appealing to both kids and adults alike. Tying all of this together is how the show foregrounds themes of friendship by having the girls tackle interpersonal issues, usually with the help of one another, which in turn helps them understand the value of teamwork. The show is worthwhile because it’s one of the best of its kind — not simply because it’s the first.
Nollywood made its Essence Film Festival debut last month with “Nigeria Day.” Made possible by Toyosi Etim-Effiong, founder and CEO of That Good Media, the partnership is devoted to the movers and shakers of the Nigerian film industry.
“We screened a Nigerian film last year at the festival, but I saw a huge gap there,” Toyosi Etim-Effiong tells STATEMENT. “So we went back and said, ‘if you’re organizing a Black film festival, are you sure it’s Black or simply African American? Because if it’s Black, then Nollywood has to be included; after all, we’re Black too, the most populous nation of our race, and have the second largest film industry in terms of output, so that must count for something… And they were open to it this year. It grew from screening a film to having our own day.”
The Essence Film Festival, which ran from June 29 to July 3, showcased films from South Africa, Ghana, and other African countries.
Toyosi Etim-Effiong spoke to STATEMENT about partnering with Essence, and showcasing Nollywood in New Orleans.
How long have you been working on the partnership with Essence?
So we facilitated the screening of a Nollywood film last year, the first ever at the film festival, and there was a panel with Nollywood players, and that has now progressed into an actual Nigeria day where we have a full day for content and conversations around Nigerian film and TV. So yes, it’s year one.
You’ve worked in media for a while, taking up different roles in different organizations. What has that been like for you?
It’s been an interesting and aggressive journey, and the house is being built brick upon brick. I enjoyed working at Folio, and some of the other roles that I’ve taken. Some have been projects, not full time jobs, and have led to this point. I now run my company ‘That Good Media’ and we’re in partnership with Essence for the first ever Nigeria Day, which has been interesting. Not hitch free, but an interesting and progressive journey.
What do you mean when you say ‘Not hitch free’?
I mean, I’ve had challenges. I’ve had to deal with things that I’d rather not have dealt with. There have been money shortages on projects, issues with people that are not aligned with the vision, and things like that that have been problematic, but also contributed to my growth as an individual and also my progress in the journey.
Now that the vision of having a ‘Nigeria Day’ is happening, what are some of your goals for it?
My goal for the day really is to secure strategic collaborations and partnerships. I hope that people come from all over The United States, Africa, and they connect with our talents — filmmakers, directors, producers — and decide they want to partner. You know, I’m working on setting up for key attendees like production studios to have meetings with local studios as well.
Besides the Essence Film Festival Activation [ the ‘Nigeria Day’] we’re also meeting with Film New Orleans. Now, Film New Orleans is the film board of New Orleans, linked or attached to the mayor of New Orleans’ office. And so they’re going to be hosting us for a cocktail reception and a forum, which is to get us acquainted with how things work in New Orleans for those who want to end up going to film there because they realize a lot of Nigerians tend to film in Atlanta, maybe Houston or New York, but nobody’s really giving much thought to New Orleans. But that’s about to change because New Orleans is such a rich and culturally vibrant place, and having the film board decide to host us along with other local production companies and local producers so that there can be an interaction and exchange of ideas is huge. It’s what I’m hoping will lead to big projects and more recognition for Nollywood.
From the Essence Film Festival to meeting the New Orleans Film Board, what do you think this looks like for the future of Nollywood?
It’s started already. If Afrobeats can do it, then Nollywood can too because they are from the same father and mother, and we refuse for Nollywood to be the child that doesn’t make it. We’ve seen how these music collaborations have helped the Afrobeats space and we’re hoping the same would apply to the film industry by the time Tyler Perry decides to partner with EbonyLife for example or Oprah Winfrey Network decides to partner with the Filmone or Inkblot or any of our major guys doing major things here. It will definitely have ripple effects that will positively affect the Nigerian film industry.
Okay. So away from the Film Festival, what’s something you and your team are currently working on?
We [That Good Media] run a talent management division, so we are constantly looking for the best opportunities for our talent, and positioning them well, not just for local gigs and local collaborations with brands, but with international brands as well. So the Talent management Division is one that is growing and we’re working a lot on. What else are we working on? We’re also working on securing more collaborations and partnerships like the one we have with Essence. It would be great to do this with other major platforms. It will also be great to do this across the United States and even the rest of the world. So it’s all about partnership. It’s all about cultural exchange to improve what is currently the norm.
You worked in bringing people from Hollywood to the 2022 AMVCA. What other plans like this do you have in the future?
You know, the thing I say is ‘my network becomes your network.’ So the more I build my network, the more I build a network for Nollywood, and there are other people doing the same thing as well. So again, I’m not coming here as a savior or to rescue a broken system. It’s just my contribution to an industry that has been in existence for a long time, is doing relatively well, and can do much better. I’ve seen gaps that I’m trying to fill. And so in terms of, um, getting people on board to the AMVCA’S, AMAA’s, or anything really that requires the presence of Hollywood, I am ready and available to provide my services.
Right. What has the reception been like from people in the industry?
Oh, that’s a loaded question. For someone who is doing this for the very first time on this scale, of course, there’s been some caution. People are like, “hmm, what is she up to? What is she doing?” So there’s that. But there are also people that are like, “this is great. We know of Essence, and love that you have been able to secure a partnership with a brand like them, which is fantastic and we want to support you. And whichever way it goes, it’s good for the industry.” So I’m happy with the reception that we’ve gotten so far, especially from the press, and I want to say thank you again for actually talking to me about this partnership.
“Why be put in a box when you can be anything?” 21-year-old Ines asks me, referring to Barbie, America’s favorite doll, which somehow became a safety net for many African kids.
Growing up in Littoral, Benin as the only girl among two siblings in the noughties, Ines spent her childhood playing with a black ballerina Barbie. “I used to make her hair and carry her everywhere because why not? She was my girl and still is, and I am not sure you understand how excited I have been! I was there on opening night, and got a ballerina dress to go with it. It was so good!”
The iconic 64-year-old doll, which hit shelves in 1959 and has made appearances on TV, video games, books, and more, has finally come to life. Directed by Greta Gerwig, with Margot Robbie playing the doll herself and Ryan Gosling as Ken, the live-action Barbie film is simple: “she’s everything. He’s just Ken.”
Barbie had the biggest opening weekend for a female director, and a film in 2023, with a worldwide debut of $337m, showing how much love people around the world have for the doll. And for people on the African continent, this love is special.
For everyone Ines’ age, and even older, Barbie isn’t just a doll. Her fluidity in both career identity and aesthetic modeled the capacity for change, touching the lives of queer and trans people on the continent.
Fola Francis, a Nigerian trans woman, didn’t have Barbie dolls of hers while growing up but would usually play with that of her cousins. “I lived with extended family for some time and didn’t have a doll of mine. So when I couldn’t play with that of my cousins, I’d create paper dolls,” she laughs. “These [paper dolls] would become my version of Barbie, and I’d take care of them because they were my friends too,.” she adds, reminiscing on the adventures she had with them and the secrets they shared.
After watching a few animations, Francis decided she wanted to be like her. “I wanted to be a doll, and now, I am one.” At the time, Francis didn’t know how that would work, but now, she is living it and is a doll, a queer lingo used to refer to trans women.
“My dad bought a Superman action figure for me after I had requested a Barbie doll. You can imagine what it was like to hear him rant about my toy choice as a child.” As an only child, Mikael’s toys were his best friends, and after seeing a Barbie animation at a friend’s, he wanted to own one.
“I know I was sad for a while until I visited an aunt one day and saw an unopened box of Doctor Barbie! I was so excited when she gave it to me and told me not to worry about my dad. And even though he continually gave remarks about me owning a doll, [Barbie] instantly became my best friend and was the first person I ever came out to as gay.”
22 out of 55 African countries recognise LGBTQ+ people, with queer and trans people facing legal challenges in the others. From Nigeria to Togo, same-sex sexual activity is penalized and carries up to 3 years in prison in some countries, and 14 years in others like Nigeria, with death by stoning in Sharia states. Many LGBTQ+ people remain in the closet for fear of their safety, and for many, finding something or someone that makes them feel safe is important.
For those who grew up on the continent, just like Mikael, doing anything remotely feminine was out of the question. However, with Barbie, there was a break from the gender binary as they could freely express themselves by braiding her hair, painting her nails, and reveling in her femininity. Whatever self-expression they desired could be at least temporarily fulfilled through their doll alter ego.
“There’s this joke about how queer men find their first female celebrity and stick by them for life, well, my first was Barbie,” Gerald, 24, says. “I could paint her nails, dress her up, put on fake lip gloss, and it was the best thing ever because no one would do that for me. She was a reflection of who I wanted to be.”
Justin, 26, grew up femme in Nigeria. “I grew up in a very religious household, and while my parents began to acknowledge my queerness quite early, they still prayed for me to change. I wanted to change. But when I saw this plastic doll taking a life of her own, doing anything, I knew I could live freely in my truth. It might sound crazy, but as a young queer kid, it wasn’t,” he adds. As the Barbie frenzy has taken over, Justin is getting everything ready for when he sees it. “I’m not just going to watch Barbie; I am going to be covered in anything pink I can find.”
As Ines adds: “There’s a reason I studied accounting in college and now pursuing other things because I saw Barbie doing it all. I know she’s a girl boss, but she’s my favorite kind.”
With its “unlimited” marketing budget, which includes a Malibu Barbie dreamhouse designed by Nigerian-American designer, Victoria Adesanmi (available on AirBnB) and record breaking opening weekend gross, Barbie is poised to top the very best of 2023 film list.
“It’s my favorite toy-to-film adaptation ever, and I wish Barbieland was real,” Mikael says. “It’s like this utopia where nothing wrong happens, and I fell in love with how that world was portrayed. What’s a better place to live as a queer man?”
Despite there being no press tour on the continent, star studded premieres took place in South Africa and Nigeria. And for the rest of us, Barbie-themed brunches and parties have become a summer must. [Warner Bros. Pictures did not immediately comment on the lack of press tours on the continent.]
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TV
Rogers Ofime on Queer Love in the Nigerian Series Wura
My two biggest influences growing up were my mother and film. My mother, a Somali political strategist, made our home an unofficial UN meeting space for other female leaders pursuing equality. Their political rhetoric was not lost on me, and a deep sense of purpose was born: to create space in the world for women.
Naturally, my attention was also consumed by the television in my room, feeding my every curiosity and offering me the chance to experience someone else’s life. And no matter how different the characters were from myself, a black, Muslim woman, I always identified with them in some way.
Ironically, the characters I was supposed to identify with, women of color and African descent, were often the least familiar to me. I was studious and eager to learn about politics, but the rare depictions of black women, most often seen on television and depicted in films, were the complete opposite. And when actual African women appeared on my television, it was to underscore how poverty-stricken and downtrodden they were.
Growing up in the suburbs of DC, being raised by a successful mother, I didn’t see myself. But others always expected me to behave more like the characters they were used to. While those women do exist, they only represent a slim margin of the black and African female experience. And the longer time went on without seeing myself on screen, the more it became my biggest driving force.
By my late twenties, I began a career as a news producer. It seemed like the most obvious arena for me to carry out my goal. But I quickly learned that news has its own agenda. And the truth, which is always more complex and nuanced, gets sidelined. In other words, I saw powerful media outlets wield stereotypes to serve their narrative, and the voice of people on the margins – whether they be a racial, gender or religious minority – remain small or altogether invisible.
At 35, I knew to my core that the only way to get underrepresented voices into the mainstream, would be to create a platform devoted to them. STATEMENT was born to give African women that chance. I began researching film and television on the continent, and the deeper I got into it, the more I knew I had struck gold.
Africans are storytellers by nature. It is simply the way that people share history, knowledge, and love. My own grandmother, a Hargeisa-based woman who never learned how to read or write, is the greatest storyteller I’ve ever met. I know that if I can get these stories in front of more people, the way people see women, Africa and the world as a whole would change for the better. STATEMENT is my commitment to give the next generation of little girls a chance to see themselves and take pride in what makes them unique.
