by Odolaye Aremu

It is a strange thing to witness: Nigerian film critics surprised, even offended, when filmmakers or their fans reject or attack their reviews, often with poor grammar and poorer manners. The expectation seems to be that the critic, by virtue of their labour, is entitled to reverence. That filmmakers ought to listen. That the audience ought to be enlightened. That the critic’s words should land with authority, not bounce off indifference or hostility. But why? Why would anyone who has somehow managed to raise money in this economic hellscape, gather a cast and crew, and complete a feature film, however poor it may now be, turn to a journalist with no institutional backing, no wide audience, and no cultural heft for guidance? Should they? Probably. But the truth is, nothing in the structure of Nigerian film suggests that listening to critics leads to success. That’s a cold thing to say, but it’s true.

Criticism has grand value. However, in Nollywood today, it has no immediacy. And in a survival economy, only the immediate matters. If you have not won the right to speak on behalf of the audience, not just to them, then you do not yet matter to the filmmaker. That is not cynicism. That is reality. In functioning societies, critics help shape taste and hold power because they are plugged into a cultural matrix. Nollywood is not wired to the cultural press because the press itself is barely assembled, barely trusted, and barely read.

You are not Cahiers du Cinéma. You are not Sight and Sound. You are not even Variety. Most of you are lone operators, publishing to 200 readers on a good day, caught in Twitter spaces and “fake elitism.” You’ve created no awards. You’ve created no credible guild. You don’t influence audience behaviour. You don’t shape taste. But you want respect? Respect is a currency. You earn it. Yes, your labour has cultural importance. I won’t argue that. Even the bad reviews, the ones based on incomplete screenings, the lazy takes, the over-intellectualized claptrap; they matter in the larger arc. However, being relevant in the long term is not the same as being relevant now. So stop crying about being unloved.

You are doing work that is thankless. That is what makes it noble. Or are you here for applause? If you cannot take rude words from the crowd, then maybe this is not your vocation. This is a place of rough speech and rougher survival. You give a sharp critique? Expect a sharp rebuke. That’s the game. Give and take. The critic who cannot take verbal heat in an environment like this is simply not built for the work. Violence should never be condoned, but insults? They’re part of the terrain. You want influence? Build institutions. Build verticals. Build media companies that dominate the conversation. Create publications that filmmakers fear or respect. Create awards people want to win. Create a canon. Right now, there is no canon, no hierarchy, no enduring editorial authority.

So the filmmaker sees you as another hustler. And they are right. You cannot critique a disorganised industry from a disorganised press. The only person who’s having fun in this entire mess is the audience, mad people. Everyone else, the serious filmmaker, the thoughtful critic, the journeyman director, the ambitious journalist, is fighting an existential war.

You think it’s only filmmakers that are broke, untrained, and unsupported? There are just as few proper critics as there are proper directors. Most are winging it. The only difference is that one side still gets to raise funds, and the other gets retweets. That’s it.

So to the journalist: hurry up and finish your current cycle of dooming everything about Nollywood. You’re not the first generation of disillusioned critics, and you won’t be the last. The films aren’t generally interested in being serious cultural objects. The audience isn’t trained to demand more. The market does not reward quality. Why are you still shocked? Face your work. Do it well. Make mistakes. Learn. But don’t expect a thank-you card from an industry that hasn’t even found itself. This is Nigeria. Nobody cares. And that’s the only thing everybody understands.

A great critic in Nollywood is a miracle. A great filmmaker is another. But stop crying. You chose this work. Do it.