Nollywood gets naked

RELATIONSHIP with sex dates back centuries, long before the first African film, Borom Sarret (1963) by Senegalese director Sembène Ousmane, was ever made. Rooted in a complex interplay of culture, religion and the lingering influences of colonisation, the continent’s conservatism towards sexuality has historically sought to restrict and regulate everything that connotes sex or is overtly sexual. As institutions and laws were created to relegate discussions and portrayals of sex to the boudoir or the realm of taboo, an unintended consequence of silence emerged – one that would quietly govern how art, particularly the medium of film, was created, portrayed and consumed. As a result, African filmmakers have long grappled with the challenges of censorship, compromising the authenticity of their narratives. In Nigeria, one criterion a film or video submitted to the National Film and Video Censors Board (NFVCB) must pass with flying colours is that it “does not promote blasphemy or obscenity nor depict any matter which is indecent, obscene or likely to be injurious to (public or private) morality or likely to incite or encourage public disorder or crime or is undesirable in the public interest”. The agency has demonstrated a proactive stance in promptly enforcing regulations pertaining to nudity in films, effectively ensuring compliance and upholding societal norms. In a notable turn of events, the highly-anticipated release of the film adaptation of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s renowned novel Half of a Yellow Sun faced a delay in 2014. While initial reports suggested a complete ban by the NFVCB, industry insiders paint a different picture. FilmOne Distribution, a prominent distributor for the film, clarified that “the movie was not banned”, emphasising that the delay stemmed from the need to obtain proper certification for public release. Set against the tumultuous backdrop of the Nigerian civil war in the 1960s and 1970s, this powerful adaptation explored themes of warfare, violence and sexuality. A scene filmed with Thandiwe Newton’s breast exposed marked a significant step in Nigeria’s cinematic expression of nudity. Two years later, Netflix invested $148 million in film production in Africa. While this was mainly in South Africa, some of the money did go into Nigeria, signalling a transformative era and more good news for nudity in Nigeria. Òlòtūré (2019), an intriguing film that delves into the harrowing world of human trafficking, marked Nigeria’s tentative exploration of nudity with a subtle and sparingly depicted scene showcasing various derrières. However, it was not until 2022, through the collaborative efforts of filmmaker Kunle Afolayan and Netflix, that nudity truly made its triumphant return to Nigerian cinema in the form of Aníkúlápó – a title meaning “one with death in his pouch” in the native Yoruba language. In a controversial scene, lead characters Arolake (Bimbo Ademoye) and Saro (Kunle Remi) were depicted in a sexually intertwined manner, with Arolake’s breasts and Saro’s buttocks prominently displayed. This watershed moment sparked a powerful and transformative chain reaction, fuelling Nollywood gets naked