Nollywood: My Father’s Shadow and the Politics of Film Nationality

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Since its release in 2025, My Father’s Shadow has remained at the centre of a growing conversation about identity, ownership and global recognition in Nigerian cinema. 

Directed by Akinola Davies Jr and written by Wale Davies, the film made history as the first Nigerian story to be selected for the official lineup at the Cannes Film Festival. 

It went on to receive a Special Mention for the Caméra d’Or and later earned major international recognition, including a BAFTA for Outstanding Debut at the BAFTA Awards.

Set in Lagos during the tense aftermath of Nigeria’s 1993 presidential election, the film follows a father and his two sons over the course of a single day. 

Against a backdrop of political uncertainty, the story explores masculinity, emotional distance, memory and the quiet ways national events shape private lives. 

It is deeply Nigerian in setting, language, and emotional texture. The streets, the tension, and the cultural nuances are unmistakably rooted in Nigeria’s history.

Yet the question persists: is My Father’s Shadow a Nollywood film or simply a Nigerian film produced within an international framework?

While the story is Nigerian and was shot in Lagos, the production structure tells a different story. The film was produced by Element Pictures and financed by BBC Film and the British Film Institute. 

This international backing gave it access to funding, festival networks and distribution pipelines that traditional Nollywood productions rarely enjoy. When it was submitted for Oscar consideration, it was entered as the United Kingdom’s submission, not Nigeria’s.

This distinction highlights a structural gap rather than a creative one. Nollywood is one of the most prolific film industries in the world, producing thousands of films annually and employing millions.

 It has built a powerful domestic market with limited institutional support. However, global awards circuits such as Cannes and the BAFTAs often rely on established international networks, funding bodies and distribution systems. Access to those systems frequently determines which stories travel far beyond their country of origin.

My Father’s Shadow demonstrates that Nigerian stories are not lacking in depth or global relevance. What they often lack is infrastructure. 

International co-production allowed the film to reach platforms where many locally financed Nollywood films struggle to appear. The backing of globally recognised institutions opened doors that talent alone may not have unlocked within existing local structures.

At the same time, the film is not a foreign interpretation of Nigeria. It is told by Nigerians who understand the emotional and political realities they portray.

 Its authenticity remains intact. The debate, therefore, is less about cultural ownership and more about industrial classification. Is Nollywood defined by geography, funding source, production model or creative voice?

Ultimately, My Father’s Shadow sits at the intersection of both worlds. It is undeniably Nigerian in story and spirit, yet international in structure and reach. Its success does not diminish Nollywood; instead, it exposes the urgent need for stronger financing systems, global partnerships and distribution frameworks within Nigeria. 

The film’s journey suggests that when Nigerian storytelling meets global infrastructure, the result can be historic.