My Father’s Shadow made history the moment it hit this year’s Cannes lineup.
Akinola Davies Jr.’s hauntingly beautiful debut became the first Nigerian film to receive an official selection at the festival, a milestone moment not just for the filmmaker but for African cinema as a whole.
“Representing Nigeria to me is a real badge of honour,” Davies Jr. told Euronews Culture. “I am extremely proud to be Nigerian, proud to be African in general, and I think our stories are incredibly universal.”
Set in 1993 Lagos during the tense lead-up to Nigeria’s first democratic election since a military coup installed General Ibrahim Babangida, the semi-autobiographical film takes place over the course of a single, fraught day. Through the eyes of two young brothers reuniting with their absent father, My Father’s Shadow quietly grapples with themes of masculinity, generational trauma, and the fragility of national identity in times of political unrest.
Gangs of London star Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù delivers a simmering performance as Folarin, the burdened patriarch trying to reconnect with his sons, played by breakout talents Chibuike Marvellous Egbo and Godwin Egbo.
Davies co-wrote the script with his brother Wale, with both also serving as executive producers on the project. Ahead of its Cannes premiere, global streamer MUBI acquired the film, with plans for a theatrical release in North America and the UK.
We sat down with Akinola Davies Jr. following the film’s premiere to discuss his Cannes experience, the making of My Father’s Shadow, and the responsibility – and joy – of representing Nigeria on cinema’s biggest stage.
Euronews Culture: First of all, congratulations. It’s fair to say My Father’s Shadow has been a huge success story. It’s received critical acclaim and, obviously, it was the first Nigerian film to be officially selected into Cannes. Could you tell us a little bit about the experience of going to Cannes and what it meant to you personally to represent Nigeria on such a massive global stage?
Akinola Davies Jr.: Sure. I mean, you never really set out to be the first in anything, and we certainly weren’t aware that it would be the first Nigerian film in selection. I think there have been Nigerian films at Cannes before, but obviously not in selection. So, the experience was pretty overwhelming, but in the best way. I think it’s incredible to show work in a place full of cinephiles, people who love the craft, and a place with such massive prestige. It’s everything you imagine the environment for your projects and work to live in.
In that aspect, it was really fantastic to be there. I think Nigerians, with it being the first Nigerian film at Cannes, have really caught on to that. Many of the crew and cast turned up publicly, and it was synonymous with Nigeria having a pavilion in Cannes for the first year, which was just serendipitous and equally felt like perfect timing. The film doing as well as it has and being received as it has is like a cherry on top of a cherry on top of a cherry.
So, yeah, I’m really pleased. Representing Nigeria to me is a real badge of honour. I am extremely proud to be Nigerian, proud to be African in general, and I think our stories are incredibly universal. I hope that continues because filmmakers like Mati Diop with her film Atlantiques and the Esiri brothers did it with Eyimofe (Eyimofe: This Is My Desire). But I think there’s probably becoming an icnreasing market for nuanced versions of our stories to travel across the world.
Nigerian cinema boasts an incredibly rich and deep history, from the pioneering work of Hubert Ogunde to the more recent contributions of Kunle Afolayan. Why do you think it has taken so long for a Nigerian film to be officially selected at Cannes?
I find this question a bit tricky. On one hand, it’s about curiosity because media, finance, and many industries are structured to privilege the global North. So naturally, everyone looks to Europe and America for what’s relevant.
However, there is now more introspection, allowing the global North to turn its attention toward the global South for stories and ideas. Both have been closely linked through growth and resource sharing. Specifically for Nigerian films traveling abroad, it’s important to remember that Nigeria is made up of over 300 tribes, each with different languages and dialects. We are community-based people, so Nollywood’s primary focus is serving Nigerian audiences.
Beyond that, Nollywood serves the African continent and the diaspora. If Europe shows interest, it is incredibly welcoming – but language and dialect barriers need to be bridged. Europe hasn’t always been great at doing that, especially since the focus has mostly been on European markets.
So, there’s definitely some complexity here. That being said, Nigerian films have been present at Cannes before – including another film this year. Perhaps storytelling style also plays a role: my film is part of Nollywood but leans more toward arthouse, which aligns well with Cannes, whereas many Nigerian films tend to be more commercial. I think both sides could do a better job bridging that gap.
How do you see your work in relationship with Nollywood?
I think my film is unapologetically a Nollywood film. My cast and crew are about 90% people who work in Nollywood. To say the work isn’t Nollywood feels disingenuous. Nollywood is incredibly rich, with a beautiful tapestry of storytelling, creativity, and technical prowess. I wear that as a badge of honour.
It’s a young, fledgling industry. Nigerian cinema predates Nollywood, but Nollywood itself is probably 30–34 years old, roughly my age. Hollywood, by comparison, is about 100 years in development. Maybe now Nollywood has a commercial neccisity, but hopefully films like mine branch out to create space for arthouse narratives, more nuanced dramas. Nollywood has done well in horror, sci-fi, and supernatural, but the drama of the common man’s daily life may be neglected. Hopefully films like mine, films like Eyimofe, films like All the Colours of the World Are Between Black and White, films like Mami Wata, create that palette, and audiences are interested.
Going back to Cannes, were there any particularly surreal moments?
Yeah, a couple of moments. The red carpets are always a little surreal. I tried to wink at Cate Blanchett. I don’t know if she saw it, but I definitely tried. I also sat down and had lunch with Juliette Binoche, which was really surreal. But the moments that spun me out the most were simple. I follow this guy, Thomas Flight, on YouTube who does video essays and reviews. Meeting him in person was probably more exciting than seeing a celebrity because I love his work.
What did you do to celebrate after the premiere of your film? Any parties?
Yes, we had a party. Element produced my film and also produced Harry Lighton’s incredible debut Pillion, which won an award for best screenplay. So we shared a party. I have a background in throwing parties and music, so I got some incredible DJs to come play. By all accounts, it was pretty good.
For anyone unfamiliar, could you give us a brief synopsis of My Father’s Shadow?
Sure. My Father’s Shadow is a film about fatherhood, nationhood, and brotherhood. It’s about two brothers spending the day with their father, who they don’t see regularly. He takes them around Lagos to show the struggles he goes through to provide for the family. They question his absence and hold him to account. On that day, there’s a big election result announced, and he has to get them home.
Why did you feel it was important to set it against such a pivotal political event in Nigerian history?
Exactly for that reason. It was a pivotal moment. I was in Nigeria during that period, as was my brother, and we knew something was going on from the reactions of family. We were probably too young to fully understand the politics at the time, but in our research, we realised it was an important moment in the country’s history, something not well documented until now.
It’s like a family heirloom in terms of Nigeria. It’s a very important story to tell because Nigeria has a big part to play in Africa’s growth and development, and even the world’s. It hasn’t fully fulfilled that potential yet, though there have been shimmering moments.
To really shift things forward, we need to tell our own stories in a nuanced way, not from an outside perspective. I think My Father’s Shadow holds a lot in terms of contemporary Nigerian history. It’s important to know what happened and who was around in that period for sure.
You co-wrote the film with your brother Wale, and I understand you each had different memories of your childhood and your father. How did those contrasting perspectives shape or enrich the film?
My brother is an incredibly accomplished writer. He’s also a musician and in music management. He’s older than me and probably the most well-read person I know. He’s also one of my closest and probably my best friends. Working with a sibling forces you into a space of honesty because you know everything about each other. That helps the work because we try to write from an honest place. If it’s not honest, it doesn’t feel right.
Both of us being men, him being a father, and me not yet, also helps. Being close in age to when we lost our father really helped the genesis of the film – trying to figure out what we actually remember, what’s made up, what’s been told to us, what we fabricated versus what’s real. That was the guiding force for writing the script.
Equally, my brother became a father during the writing process, so a lot of emotions and the idea of sacrifice and providing for your family were taken into account. There’s a narrative of absent fathers, which can be quite negative and derivative, but I don’t think ours fits that. Our absent father was out of duty and providing for the family, which I believe is common in an African context – it’s traditional and conservative. Ultimately, there’s still this idea of duty in Africa, maybe antiquated in Europe, but still very present – providing for your family sometimes means you don’t spend as much time with them. That’s where our story comes from, and I think there are still challenges we’re dealing with.
Nigeria in the ’90s – like much of the world – was very male dominated. Do you think it’s changed much nowadays?
I think on the surface, it’s very male dominated, but I definitely wouldn’t say women are in hierarchical control – although in politics, they’ve been gaining more ground. Actually, I think Nigerian women probably crystallise the brilliance of Nigeria in many ways. Our producer is a Nigerian woman; we have two producers, one from the UK and one from Nigeria. My mother – who’s obviously a Nigerian woman – in my father’s absence or after his passing, she took the mantle and raised four children. My aunt is the matriarch of the family. I was always surrounded by my mother’s friends – they all ran their own businesses and were completely self-sufficient. If you go to any market in Nigeria, it’s pretty much all women running things. So yeah, on the surface – and maybe politically or presidentially in some cases – it feels male dominated, and it’s probably easy to say that from the outside looking in.
But even though my mother isn’t really in the film, she’s still an overarching presence. Feminine energy is also a strong, though not front-facing, presence in the film – more subconscious, effectively. And I think that’s what it means. To your question, I think Africa in general, and Nigeria in particular, has to present as masculine because of our history – colonial history, independence history. The leaders who’ve been targeted and killed the most were men and statesmen, including in my film, even though Abiola is still very much alive within it.
So when that absence happens, it’s the women who have to take care of the family, who have to rise to the occasion – especially Abiola’s wives, who are central characters in my film. While my film is set over one day, after Abiola’s passing years later, his wives were the ones leading the charge. So yeah, on the surface it might feel that way, but for me, having grown up there, I’d probably counter that Nigeria is highly organised and run by women. Obviously, patriarchy still has a place in society because of the colonial experience. But hopefully, through telling stories in film, art, and media, we can reference our histories.
You shot the film on location, on 16mm film. How was that logistically and why did you feel it was important to shoot in this medium?
You’d have to ask my producers for logistics, but it was challenging – there are no labs on the continent. We had to shuttle film back and forth, so we didn’t see rushes for almost a week, meaning we couldn’t strike sets during that time.
I love shooting on film. It slows the pace, embraces imperfections, and allows more rehearsal time with cast and crew. Two of my three leads had never acted before – I didn’t want to nitpick performances on set. Originally, I planned to fix things in the edit. Working with my Mexican editor Omidy Guzman, who’s an unsung hero, we extracted what we needed and got the performances we wanted.
Thematically, shooting a period film on film really helped. Politically, I wanted to see the Lagos I grew up in captured on what I consider the most beautiful medium. I wasn’t exposed to much of that growing up. So whenever I shoot in Nigeria, I want to shoot on film because Lagos is incredibly cinematic and deserves celluloid – not that I’m against digital; I love digital too and shoot it often. But I think when it comes to capturing the essence of a place, I think film is a really good shorthand.
What impact do you hope My Father’s Shadow will have on the wider film industry?
Ooooh big question! It’s a bit early to say, but from responses, I hope My Father’s Shadow is like breaking ground for a next generation of filmmakers to see that it’s possible to do it.
Obviously, like, I come with a certain level of privilege. I was born in the UK. My film’s financed in the UK predominantly, but obviously co-produced by a Nigerian production company, Nigerian talent, Nigerian crew. So there’s a lot of collaboration in there. But, obviously, I have to also say that it comes with a certain level of privilege having MUBI, Element, Match Factory, Fremantle, BBC, BFI all involved. That might not be the case for every filmmaker, but I want to acknowledge that and say that there is a way to sort of get to this point, but, obviously, it takes a lot of collaboration, a lot of forward thinking, and a lot of groundwork, but it’s possible.
My Father’s Shadow had its world premiere at the Un Certain Regard section of the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, where it won the Special Mention for the Caméra d’Or. Mubi acquired distribution rights for North America, the UK, Ireland, and Turkey.
