The depictions of villains on screen can be tricky. When done right, they are memorable. And when written shoddily, even the most skilled actor can’t save them. They end up cartoonish and childish and can’t be taken seriously. Oliver in Saltburn (2023) comes to mind. They lack allure. As a result, a joke is made of the protagonist’s hero journey. Antagonists can’t be evil for evil’s sake in cinema (which the horror genre understands well, with their demonic villains usually given a backstory). Likewise, writing intentional caricature antagonists also requires flair and craft. Filmmakers like Quentin Tarantino and Taika Waititi have leaned into such in their revisionist films. Like Adolf Hitler in Jojo Rabbit (2019) and the Manson family in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. However, what happens when this antagonizing force is to be non-physical?
Films have always featured immaterial antagonists. An example is Birdbox (2018), the thing in The Thing (1982) and the Hotel in The Shining (1980). The horror genre has constantly had immaterial entities take possessions of material and immaterial bodies. Immaterial villains usually do not hold much weight outside of the genre. So, what happens when the antagonist is a country? What backstory could you possibly give a somewhat impersonal entity like Nigeria? The Esiri brothers brilliantly craft this in Eyimofe (2020), a diptych of two Nigerians in Lagos, a technician (Mofe) and a hairdresser (Rosa), yearning for a better life in Europe.
The Nigerianness of the characters and their problems make Eyimofe a very human story. Their interconnectedness offers rich moments of sonder and solidarity. At brief moments on screen, they appear in each other’s lives, mostly oblivious of the other (bar one interaction where one character needed fixing). But Nigeria, our antagonist, is never too far away. Being the slippery force it is, Nigeria takes different forms and shapes. One challenge has a significant effect on the other, and leaves its traceable dirt marks on things just like several well-placed props in the film. Rosa and Mofe’s desire and motivation change over the film, but for the most part it lies in what many Nigerians share. They desire to leave the country. The Nigerian dream is not for some destination or leisure travel but for survival. That’s how much of an antagonist the system is. But like gravity, Nigeria keeps them grounded. And takes from them too.
Nigeria uniquely antagonizes Mofe (Jude Akuwudike) and Rosa (Temi Ami-Williams) across the film. It starts with foisting the Nigerian dream on them. Due to the economic hardship Rosa has to endure as a young Nigerian living in Lagos, she has to take on two low-paying jobs while caring for Grace (Cynthia Ebijie), her teenage sibling carrying a child. Nigeria ranks high and is still climbing on the list of countries with high adolescent pregnancies. As if that isn’t enough, Rosa has to choose between giving up her sibling’s unborn child to the trafficker facilitating her journey, and her dream. Before Nigeria’s last blow to Rosa, Grace’s health becomes a source of concern when she is hospitalized and the hospital is reluctant to give her blood because profits are prioritized. A working public healthcare system would have prevented this by prioritizing pregnant underage girls. Sometimes in the hospital, a setting packed with the film’s themes, Mofe and Rosa appear in each other’s lives. In those moments, Eyimofe solidifies the parallel between our main characters.
Mofe’s life is much like Rosa’s. He also has multiple jobs and wants to leave the country. Their lives, against other characters, mirror the class disparity in the country. In one scene, when the power holding company ceases power, Peter (Rosa’s Lebanese love interest and expat) and Seyi (Peter’s Nigerian friend) easily switch to another power supply. The result for the lower class playing catch up can be very fatal. Precious (Mofe’s sibling) and her two young sons die from inhaling smoke from an electricity-supplying generator (adulterated petroleum was later revealed to be the cause of their deaths). The generator is an ode to the state of electricity in the country. It being indoor to avoid theft, an ode to the state of security. And the implication on Mofe’s life is an ode to the overall Nigerian life. The latter problem is one that Mofe’s secondary workplace solves as a private security outfit. At this point, we see the several basics that Nigerians are used to providing themselves regardless of class. Eyimofe becomes a microcosm for every Nigerian.
Eyimofe as a migration story is interesting because we don’t see them migrate, but rather explore the journeys they undertake to undertake the journey. In this journey, we see other prevalent issues in Nigeria like black tax, our poor maintenance culture, impoverished lives, Keke NAPEP as an emergency ambulance, discharge fee to retrieve a dead body, and our attitudes towards death and burial. Aside from the overbearing third character that is Lagos, another bitter-sweet thing about Eyimofe is the sonder of the story. Mr. Vincent (Toyin Oshinaike) is another parallel to our main characters. He is Rosa’s future, her soon-to-be husband whom she has pledged her life to for survival. At the same time, he is Mofe’s past, the landlord of the apartment where Mofe’s family died. The deaths that occur in their lives, both avoidable, mark another parallel, as it spells the same thing for them— the end of their desire. As their lives unfold on screen, Nigeria is the only character to have crept into every frame.
Eyimofe’s depiction of Lagos (our Nigerian setting of choice) as a third character is intentional, as revealed by Arie Esiri to The Guardian. Its intentionality is not the only reason it is a brilliant film. The HOW is equally as brilliant. This honest depiction of Nigeria and its masterful storytelling has earmarked it as a great film. When The Guardian asked about the film being shot in 16mm, Arie notes the intimacy and the richness of characters in the city that can be gotten from such film images. To achieve that richness, the filmmakers also bought and swapped modern household equipment for old ones. The solemn cinematography, mostly of static and panning shots, ensures that attention is on the characters. The non-dramatic acting earns the audience’s gaze and makes sure it remains on them. On influences, the Esiri Brothers referenced Edward Yang’s Yi Yi (2000), and A Screaming Man (2010) as huge inspiration. Those two works are solemn films that find profoundness in their nondramaticness. Together, all three films, despite their distinct origins, share a focus on family dynamics and the challenges characters face within them. Each film portrays characters grappling with hardship, be it poverty, war, or familial issues. Yet, they also weave in threads of hope and resilience, showcasing the characters’ enduring strength.
Eyimofe is truly Nigerian because of what it says, and how it says. At the end of Eyimofe, I felt seen, I knew I had an answer to my “What is Nigerian cinema?” question. Interestingly, Eyimofe is not only Nigerian, it is also human in that the experiences might be shared elsewhere outside Nigeria. Chuko Esiri (screenwriter) while talking with the British Blacklist believes if one is sincere in their storytelling then it will belong to everybody. Eyimofe’s portrayal of everyday Nigerians evokes a sense of wonder about the unseen lives surrounding them. This sonderesque perspective, where viewers recognize their interconnectedness, offers a powerful coping mechanism for the challenges of Nigerian life. This sense of connection, perhaps unexpectedly, can even blossom from seemingly ordinary experiences and create profound works like Eyimofe. Who would have imagined fulfilling one’s NYSC duties could have birthed a masterpiece like this? Well, that is the story of Chuko Esiri, who wasn’t so sure if he’d be staying back after his NYSC program— another average Nigerian experience.
Arie and Chuko Esiri’s Eyimofe is Nigeria’s first film to be part of the Criterion Collection, the number one stop for the preservation of classic and contemporary films, and HBO Max. It also streams on Prime Video and Mubi.
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