Cultural interlude: fantasies of a fantasy
Nnamdi Okere, “100 Years of Nigeria in Film,” Cinema Magazine (Dec. 2008)
Out of all the favorite settings for premodern costume dramas, Arthur John Evans’ Nigeria [1] is the only one that never truly existed. Of course it’s common for period pieces to be based on obsolete knowledge or to take liberties with history – the peaceful matriarchal Minoans or otherworldly Mayans that populated the cinema of the 1960s and 70s no longer reflect the archaeological consensus, and the popular Vedic Indian epics of the 1920s through 50s were always four parts myth – but there were civilizations that corresponded at least roughly to the ones in the movies. For Nigeria, this isn’t the case. There is unmistakable evidence of an early Iron Age culture that bears the Nigerian name to this day (although archaeologists prefer “Taruga”), but the vast Egyptian-derived empire that featured in early twentieth-century historiography has been proven to be Evans’ fantasy.
For filmmakers, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The scanty archaeological evidence for Nigeria meant that they had few constraints in painting the backdrop. Some mix of New Kingdom or Third Intermediate-period Egypt and West Africa was taken for granted, but the proportion of each, and the particular traits that each contributed, was open to the imagination. The fact that Evans’ Nigeria was a lost world, and therefore one that might have strayed far from classical Egyptian culture, only made the artistic license broader. Critic Simon Francis referred to Nigerian costume epics as “pharaohs and phantasms,” and there was sometimes little more than that to guide the set designers in their work.
To some extent, the Nigerian dramas were expressions of the directors’ attitude toward Africa and the ancient world. A director who bought into the casual racism of the time might depict a very thinly diluted Egypt with palaces, temples and obelisks straight out of the Eighteenth Dynasty, with a light-skinned ruling class and African cultural traits confined to backward villages. The same setting, in the hands of an African filmmaker, would have a far stronger West African aesthetic (albeit with elements of Egyptian design), a religion and system of government extrapolated backward from the precolonial Niger Valley, and sumptuously dressed Yoruba or Igbo actors playing the parts of royalty and nobles.
There was also a place between the extremes. That there was
something African about Nigeria could hardly be denied; although Evans had identified Egyptian features in the statuary and artifacts he studied, their style was different from anything that had been found in Egyptian palaces or tombs. So even the films that reflected European and American racial assumptions would derive religious artifacts and styles of clothing from the statues, and would often include other African elements to emphasize the lost-world setting. It was Nigerian costume dramas that brought the Nsibidi symbols of the Igbo and the Adinkra of the Akan, which appeared as hieroglyphics and holy symbols on “Nigerian” temples, to the attention of mass audiences in Europe and the United States. Masks and ceremonial costume were another common African ingredient, often reflecting a West African-Egyptian fusion…
… By 1950, with few serious archaeologists still regarding Evans’ theory as factual, the Nigerian epic had to adapt. The richly imagined scenes of horse-cult parades, black kings in gilded chariots and cities rising above tropical landscapes could no longer claim to represent history in the way Roman or Abbasid epics did. Instead, the directors who continued to make Nigerian films took one of two paths: some accepted Evans’ fantasy as fantasy and approached it on that basis, while others adopted a much-diluted Nigeria theory in which Egyptian influence was muted and came from trade or legend.
The former, now free of all constraints, devised settings which were even more extravagant than the classic Nigerian epics and which included elements from many cultures and historical periods;
Afurika (Tokyo, 1985) even had a city with gardens and baths designed by a visiting Jomon trader. The latter showed much more naturalistic and historically accurate Iron Age West African landscapes with Egyptian travelers and cultural fragments to add mystery – the kind of mystery that pop history sometimes still insists is there. Lately there have been combinations of the two, exploring ancient Nigeria as a might-have-been world or secret history, and although long disproven, Evans’ ideas haven’t lost their ability to engender – or provide a sidelight on – political controversy.
This year marks the hundredth anniversary of the first Nigerian costume drama to appear on film. Picking the top movies of the genre is almost as controversial as the Nigeria theory itself: like most kinds of costume drama, Nigerian epics have rarely drawn critical acclaim, and fans from Africa and Europe often disagree about which ones deserve top billing. In an effort to achieve balance, and in honor of the imaginary country that has captured so much imagination, I offer this humble list:
But the River Floods (Baghdad, 1908): The first movie to feature Nigeria was one of the absurdist films that characterized Ottoman cinema between the Great War and the revolution of 1911, and fittingly enough, it was made by a director who considered Evans’ theory ridiculous. Yossef Kedouri, the Baghdadi Jew who would later make a career filming Abbasid and Sumerian epics, cut his teeth with this story of an Egyptian noble who gets lost while on a diplomatic mission far to the south. Arriving at the Niger, he finds a city and culture that bear a superficial resemblance to Egypt, and becomes progressively more bewildered when no one acts as he expects. By the end of the movie, the West Africans have made him an ironic god, alternately worshipped for his holy madness and blamed for everything that goes wrong.
The Fall of Nigeria (San Diego, 1912): This film inaugurated many of the features that would go on to become clichés of the genre, and its “New Kingdom in the jungle” set would inspire many imitators. The Nigerian nobility is depicted as white, but unusually for American films outside South Carolina at this time, many characters including priests and army officers are played by black actors.
The Fall depicts Nigeria as a culturally decadent society cut off from the world for centuries, in which a priestly clan keeps Egyptian traditions alive while fighting for survival in a deadly court and contending with epidemics and barbarian invasions.
The Fifty Cowries (Lagos, 1915): The product of a West African film industry that was still in the process of formation,
The Fifty Cowries proved that African as well as European filmmakers found the idea of an ancient African empire appealing. Where
The Fall had shown a decadent Nigeria, this film displays the empire at its imagined height: a vast city of Egyptian stone and proto-Yoruba wood, pyramids, and a riotous syncretic religion of animal-headed gods and masked ancestors. With this society as backdrop, the movie chronicles a young man’s journey up the Niger as he seeks the wealth to pay bride-price for his beloved, and his encounters with allies and enemies from Egypt and beyond.
Rising on the Niger (Charleston, 1918): This was one of the last films produced by the State House Press during its era of artistic dominance, and its story of a slave revolt against cruel and decadent Egyptian conquerors is an obvious allegory of South Carolina’s own Great Rising. Gripping politics, forbidden love and epic battle scenes combine to lift
Rising above its propagandistic theme, and the hero, a prophetic horseman whose costume recalls the famous equestrian statue, is fully realized enough to escape the script.
Guardians of Africa (London, 1919): This product of the Imperial era, filmed amid the Indian War of Independence and civil unrest in West Africa, is, as might be expected, stunningly racist. The African characters are uniformly portrayed as subhuman, brutal and lascivious in a way that is often compared to the pro-Redeemer epic
Battle for a People. But at the same time, it is a work of cinematic genius, beautifully shot and featuring unprecedented techniques and effects. Many people who saw the film’s premiere reportedly believed that it had been shot on location, and even modern viewers find it visually stunning despite the disturbing story.
The Sacred Colt (London, 1930): Stop someone on the street and ask him to name a Nigerian costume epic, and they’d most likely name this one. Director Michael Cooper, who served in the African Civil Service for twenty years before resigning in protest against the Imperial Party, created a visually Egyptian but culturally African world that defines the genre for many. The film tells the story of an ordinary family cast into the priesthood and nobility when their colt is deemed a foal of the horse-god. The director’s experience in Africa and knowledge of Egypt shows in the movie’s vividly realized pageantry.
Queen of the River (Paris, 1941): This is another work created by a skeptic of Evans’ theories, an adaptation of Funmilayo Abacar’s play of the same name. It tells the story of an African merchant and musician who makes the difficult journey to Egypt and marries Queen Hatshepsut’s daughter Merytre. They returns to find the warring states of the Niger in the grip of evil Egyptian and African counselors, and set out to overthrow them and reunite the Nigerian peoples. Their story is an allegory of colonialism and contemporary Niger Valley federalism, but as with
Rising, rich characterization, the pharaonic landscape and classical Hausa-influenced songs and ceremonies make it far more than a political tract.
The Two Lands (Berlin, 1946): This big-budget epic, often considered the last of the Golden Age Nigerian dramas, centers on the founding of the empire. Unusually for the genre, the Egyptian founders are from the Old Kingdom rather than the New, and are nobles exiled during the collapse that followed the fall of the Sixth Dynasty. They reach the Niger after many adventures in dangerous lands, finding that it too is suffering from drought and civil war, and become rulers of the region with the aid of local allies. By the end of the film, they are losing their Egyptian ways, and it is heavily implied that their kingdom will fall and that the empire theorized by Evans will be built on its memory.
Mara, Daughter of the Niger (San Diego, 1955): This young adult movie exemplifies the transitional period between the Golden Age and modern incarnations of the Nigerian genre. By the time
Mara was made, Evans’ theories had been conclusively discredited, and that shows in the story and cinematography. The Egyptian influence is portrayed as remote, and the buildings and clothing are more African than any Nigerian epic previously made outside Africa. There is just enough Egyptian jewelry, writing and religious symbolism to add an air of ancient mystery to this story of a slave girl who is enlisted as a spy for a powerful courtier and who must risk her life for love and freedom.
The Most Ancient Days (Abomey, 1958): Dahomey’s “dancing revolution” of 1957 combined with the previous decade’s revival of classical music and dance to produce this film. Here, Nigeria is an African empire whose ruler has heard stories of Egypt and has enslaved the people in order to build monuments as great as the pharaohs’. The gods of Egypt, approving of the king’s actions, protect him against overthrow, and only by evoking a more powerful spirit of their own can the people win free. Much of the story is told through traditional musical narration, which also plays a part in reducing the tyrant’s defenses.
Nigerian Gold (San Diego, 1982): An unabashed lost-world fantasy,
Nigerian Gold features a Nigerian empire that has survived into the nineteenth century and where Egyptian and West African design have merged into a style recognizable as neither. A traveler in search of legendary gold blunders into the empire, and after many swashbuckling adventures, rediscovers its history. At the end, after the explorer wins clear with the gold, it is learned that he is Evans, and that a Nigerian priestess' spell has distorted his memory into what will become his famous archaeological theory.
The Ancestors (Sokoto, 2008): A century after
But The River Floods, this film returns the Nigerian genre to absurdism, albeit of a distinctly contemporary kind. A modern African is transported 3000 years back in time and cycles between three universes: the historical Iron Age, Evans’ Nigeria, and a world in which the region is dominated by an upper-Niger rice culture. In the process, he unwittingly puts the three in contact with each other, and spends the rest of the film trying to straighten out the political and cultural conflicts engendered by the contact. He is considered a divine being due to his ability to travel between worlds, but his attempts to use his divine authority are poorly thought out and fail spectacularly. The ending, in which he finally brokers an accidental peace, bears a passing resemblance to certain political events of the early twenty-first century…
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[1] See post 1023.
