By Teco Benson
The categorization of Nollywood into “Old” and “New” has become a fashionable lens for discussing Nigeria’s film industry. While it may seem like a harmless academic framework or generational banter, it is, in fact, a deeply flawed and offensive dichotomy—one that undermines the complexity of our cinematic evolution and distorts the continuity of a vibrant creative ecosystem.
This divide was not born from objective historical need or scholarly consensus. It was initiated, rather casually, by a crop of younger filmmakers and commentators seeking to distinguish themselves. Over time, the media amplified it, and soon, academia adopted it without sufficiently interrogating its implications. What was originally a social media talking point has now morphed into a codified classification, used to diminish rather than contextualize.
The truth is, there is no “Old” or “New” Nollywood. There is only Nollywood—a dynamic, evolving, and multi-generational industry. Every film movement around the world has gone through phases of technical advancement, ideological shifts, and storytelling evolution. But few have had to suffer the indignity of internal fragmentation branded as progress.
What we loosely call “Old Nollywood” laid the very foundation upon which the so-called “New” now stands. These were the years when filmmakers worked with analogue cameras, zero institutional support, shoestring budgets, and untrained crews—yet somehow created an industry out of nothing. It was a miracle of innovation, grit, and raw passion. The stories resonated, the stars were born, and a global African cinema emerged.
To dismiss that era as “Old” is to misunderstand what innovation really means. The pioneers may not have had drones or Dolby Atmos, but they had vision, instinct, and commitment. Many of the so-called “New” filmmakers were inspired by the very works they now condescend to.
And what is “New” Nollywood, really? A shift to cinema screens? Better cameras? Netflix deals? While these are markers of growth, they do not automatically imply superiority. In fact, many contemporary films now celebrated for aesthetics often fall short in depth, originality, or cultural rootedness. Technical polish without soul is no advancement—it’s mimicry.
Worse still, this dichotomy has bled into funding decisions, distribution channels, and festival programming, reinforcing a gatekeeping culture that rewards certain aesthetics over others, often along class and generational lines. The result? A warped canon that erases the very filmmakers who made Nollywood a global phenomenon.
It is time to stop measuring progress by dividing eras. We must begin to view Nollywood as one long, organic conversation—where veterans and newcomers alike contribute different accents, styles, and vocabularies to a common language. True progress lies in the interplay between tradition and reinvention, not in the arrogance of a false newness.
A mature industry celebrates continuity. It honors its elders while embracing its youth. It builds bridges, not silos. If Nollywood is to truly claim its place in global cinema, we must stop tearing down the pillars that got us here—and start telling our story as one story, with many chapters.
*Teco Benson, MFR
Film Director | Industry Advocate | Cultural Commentator
