James Omokwe understands what is at stake when Osamede opens in Nigerian cinemas on October 17. He calls the pressure “yes and no.” Yes, because this is only his second official feature after The Awakening in 2013 and he is deeply aware of the resources poured into it. No, because he insists he is not going in blind. He and the producers have laid down certain marketing strategies. “We’re not just hoping people will come,” he says. “We’re aggressively marketing so we have guarantees.” That mix of pragmatism and optimism defines his return to film after a decade making television epics.
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The timing is delicate. Nollywood is caught between streaming’s retreat and theatrical exhibition uncertainty. Cinema remains the only viable platform for large-scale films, yet box-office risks have rarely felt higher. Audiences complain of repetition, critics worry about quality control, and it seems filmmakers are taking on more personal financial risk than ever. (It is worth noting that the span from production to release for Osamede has taken about a year.) Against this backdrop, Omokwe is betting on something unusual: a non-Yoruba epic rooted in Edo culture, told almost entirely in the Benin language.
The project found him through Lillian Olubi, who had staged Osamede (directed by Ayo Ajayi) as a play across 12 shows in Muson Centre in 2021 and 2022 and wanted it on screen. Omokwe’s first condition was authenticity—no half-measures in language or setting. They moved cast and crew into Edo State in September 2024, negotiated with traditional rulers in Fugar and Ososo, and built an entire village from scratch. In one month, the crew raised walls, carved interiors and created a landscape that could anchor the story. Shooting for 14 days outside Lagos came with its own logistical challenges, including security concerns and the need to protect over 100 people on set. Praising the team’s adaptability and the executive producer’s leadership, he frames the effort not as indulgence but as trust-building: audiences must feel the labour to believe the film is worth their ticket.
Authenticity extended to the script. Working with writer Lolo Eremie (Tarella), Omokwe insisted that the heroine could not rely on a male saviour. Where the stage play mirrored a Queen Esther arc of sacrifice through marriage, the film positions Osamede as a hero in her own right, imbued with powers of the gods yet forced to learn how to wield them. It is a conscious distinction amongst most of the mainstream Yoruba epics’ focus on manhood (with Labake Olododo and Iyalode as welcome 2025 exceptions), and one reason he bristles at the “superhero” tag. He prefers to call it African mysticism: a woman discovering abilities passed down by ancestral stones rather than a cape-wearing archetype. “If you want to make an African superhero film, don’t put them in tights,” he explains. “You have to explain powers the African way, through mysticism, through gods, through jazz.” Still, he acknowledges that global audiences, primed by Marvel and co, may interpret it that way and he is content to let them.
N.B.: Data for King of Thieves & Abanisete will be updated soon.
Omokwe is not new to epics. Since 2018 he has overseen Yoruba, Igbo, Idoma and even cross-cultural period dramas for Africa Magic on shows like Ajoche, Itura, and Cheta’M. Those TV years gave him a loyal fan base and a sharp sense of audience rhythm. “TV has been great, but it was time to return to film,” he says. “With TV, if you don’t tell a good story, people switch off”. He is betting those same viewers will follow him to the cinema, reassured by his track record. The challenge, as I mentioned to him, is winning new viewers, especially those disillusioned by a string of underwhelming big-screen titles, most especially those tagged as epics. For him, every ticket is also a test of trust: if audiences feel cheated, they may not return next time.
That is why Cannes mattered along the journey. Osamede screened not in competition but at the film market, a distinction Omokwe is quick to clarify. The goal was leverage, not prestige. “We didn’t go to Cannes just to show it,” he says. “We went to be in the space where people from all over the world are looking at African content.” The strategy worked to an extent: distribution conversations followed, and reactions in France confirmed that the story resonated with diasporic viewers hungry for depictions of African culture told by Africans. One audience member reportedly left in tears, feeling the film spoke to her ancestry.
The choice of Edo is intentional. Yoruba epics have dominated the market in recent years, from King of Thieves onwards, while other regions have struggled to convince the market. For Omokwe, whose own slate includes projects rooted in various cultures waiting in the wings, Edo was simply the right convergence of opportunity and passion. “Nigeria has so many stories to tell,” he insists. “If we get the right investment and buy-in from distributors, we’ll tell them.” He remembers attending the coronation of the Oba of Benin and being struck by the richness of ritual on display. Such an atmosphere, he says, convinced him that Benin stories deserved the big screen cinematic treatment, which some other cultures have started to slowly receive this year, as seen in The Masked King, Ibobo: The Blind Seer, and Amanyanabo: The Eagle King and the upcoming Out of Breath.
He also knows the genre must evolve. War and conquest cannot be the only arcs. Love stories, domestic dramas, even twentieth-century period pieces are waiting to be mined. He cites his own television series that also focused on romance alongside battles, proof that audiences will embrace a broader palette if given the chance. Osamede hints at this shift, weaving references to historical invasion but centring instead on personal identity and resistance.
An epic historical drama with visual reference like The Woman King for “universality and authenticity”, Osamede is set against the backdrop of the colonised Benin Kingdom of 1897, following a young orphan who discovers her latent powers and must embark on a perilous journey to embrace her destiny as the guardian of a mythical stone and the hero her kingdom desperately needs. During our conversation, Omokwe frames the film as a hero’s journey, focusing on the discovery and responsible use of power. It stars Ivie Okujaye Egboh, Lexan Aisosa Peters, William Benson, Tosin Adeyemi, Lancelot Oduwa Imasuen (veteran filmmaker whose experience was a huge support and behind Invasion 1897, a 2014 historical film Omokwe acknowledges as the last major Benin-set film), Etinosa Idemudia, Paul Obazele, Alexander Bud and Osagie Elegbe.
If Osamede succeeds, it will signal that Nollywood audiences are willing to pay for epics from far and beyond and that carefully crafted authenticity can still draw crowds. If it fails, sceptics may retreat further into safe formulas or straight-to-streaming deals. Omokwe, famed as the “king of TV epics” (a label he both resists and toys with), does not hide his ambition, but he frames it less as conquest and more as credibility. “Epics are here to stay,” he says. “There’s so much history to draw from. In ten years, I see better production value, better storytelling. It’ll be a mainstay.” And as he puts it more simply, “I want Nigerians to know we are not wasting their time. We appreciate their love for the arts, and we’re giving them something they will definitely enjoy.”
Osamede, produced by Gold Lilies Productions and distributed by Nile Entertainment, will open in cinemas on October 17. Ticket pre-sale ahead of the cinema release is now available.
Also, it will screen at the Silicon Valley African Film Festival in San Jose, California, in October.
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