Dare Olaitan is Learning on the Go.
The filmmaker talks about his career so far and making films on the seven cardinal sins.
Dare Olaitan’s compelling debut, Ojukokoro, emerged out of nowhere and established him as a major talent in Nollywood. The film showcased his ability to deliver both thrilling entertainment and artistic brilliance, setting him apart from his contemporaries. Its premiere at AFRIFF (Africa International Film Festival) was met with adoration, and it was hailed as the best movie of 2017 by Pulse and Ynaija.
But Olaitan doesn’t enjoy watching the film these days. “If I watch Ojukokoro now, I cringe,” he tells me in our first discussion, just a few days before the premiere of his fourth film, Ile Owo.
Olaitan’s standards for himself are probably unfair, but he introspects constantly. For instance, he doesn’t blame anyone for his films not being a huge commercial success despite being critically acclaimed. There were rumours of sabotage by his distributors, FilmOne, but Olaitan thinks it is part of the learning process and is grateful he never dealt with the pressure of instant commercial success.
There’s a similar sense of self-examination for his politically charged sophomore, Knock Out Blessing. It was released in December when family-friendly pictures like Chief Daddy, Up North and Aquaman were in cinemas against the advice of some people.
“With time, you learn,” Olaitan tells me. “I am learning on the go; I had to make some mistakes and learn. With every film I have done, there’s been growth, and as long as I keep growing, I guess it is all good.”
Olaitan's growth and the lessons he has learned are evident in the strides he has made since then. He has found a delicate balance by forming alliances with industry giants and establishing a fruitful partnership with his friend and fellow filmmaker, Kayode Kasum, who has a more commercially inclined approach. Their collaboration on the film Dwindle perfectly exemplifies this dynamic. While it retains the signature elements of a Dare Olaitan film, it is also his most accessible and star-studded work. The result? It garnered 43 million Naira at the box office and fully recouped its investment within a year after being sold to a streaming platform.
Ile Owo, his most recent, is a return to form. It revolves around greed and goes for prestige like his first two films, but the inspiration will tell you where Olaitan’s head is at regarding the Nigerian Box Office. He and Kasum were playing FIFA and discussing the audience, how Nigerian women are the more significant customers and the industry caters to their needs for romance stories.
“I am like, let’s make a marriage movie and fuck it up,” he explains. “We started throwing ideas. I said this [Ile Owo’s idea] and Kayode said, ‘go and write it,’ that’s how we made this movie.”
Ile Owo can be described as a Nigerian Get Out, but it is more homage than a lazy copy. Money ritual is used to explore good and evil, classism and the ever-present Nigerian greed in Olaitan’s films. It follows Busola, a classic good girl who just left her shitty boyfriend but still desires love and a relationship. It doesn’t help that everyone around her is happily in love. Then one day, the dashing and wealthy Tunji walks into life and it never remains the same.
Inside Nollywood sat down with Olaitan to discuss his motives, growth and the recurring theme of Nigerian greed in his films.
Why are you intrigued by Nigerian greed?
In Nigeria, greed is the only way to get ahead, no matter how you cut it. If not, nepotism — but it will be some sort of greed. I think one of the biggest cardinal sins facing Nigerian society is greed — that’s why I’m still obsessed. I am also obsessed with the seven cardinal sins because they show humanity in the starkest light.
Your parents watch all your films. What kind of conversation do you have with them about Nigerian society, seeing that your films will probably criticise some of their friends?
My parents don’t have friends. We are a very [insular] family; we keep to each other. It’s not like any of them will come and say, “Oh wow, this is me in this film.” Also, even if they’ve been blessed, they’re not the typical rich Nigerians. We don’t go out in my house; we don’t do shit — we just work. And my mom is very empathetic. That’s why the movie is dedicated to my mom.
That was going to be my next question… like, why?
Because she understands the luck of the draw and how easy it is to fall out of things because, in Nigeria, it’s not just being rich that will maintain you. If you’re rich and too generous, you’ll become poor. You'll become poor if you’re rich and don’t maintain your greed. In my lifetime, I’ve watched people fall from social classes and seen how the change affects Nigerians.
This explains Tunji because he looked concerned about Busola. Did he think he would probably lose his power over her if he allowed himself to be empathetic?
I feel this is very telling because it’s coming out now that this Senator just took someone out of the country. Empathy in Nigeria is very brief because it doesn’t stop us. I’ve seen many tweets where people say, “If your child was dying, wouldn’t you do it?” Empathy allows you to see somebody else and put yourself in their position, but I’ve discovered that in Nigeria, we short-circuit empathy. We feel pity, but we don’t put ourselves in that position. So, he [Tunji] feels compassion, but that doesn’t change his actions.
Also, I am starting to understand that I need to make my films simpler if I’m going to [be here]. This movie wasn’t meant to come out in Nigerian cinemas. It was meant to go straight to streaming; that’s why it’s not as streamlined.
Let’s discuss the end. I feel it was abrupt. You told me there was a sort of compromise for the general audience. I feel like this was not a Dare Olaitan ending.
I already made alliances before I got to set. But the biggest reason is ... the final scene is meant to be a whole ritual; the film starts with a ritual and ends with a ritual. Those rituals were meant to take fifteen minutes to explain what was happening. But I believe we didn’t start shooting until 5 AM on the night. I had two hours of light and had to rush it ... so I understand why it seems a bit rushed. We did some reshoots to extend it, but I guess there’s still a feeling of abruptness.
I want to talk about acting now. I’ll start with Sophia Alakija because I’ve never seen her this good, and this leads to the question: how does Dare direct, that he brings out the best in everybody he directs?
I think one of the things is I don’t watch Nigerian content that much, apart from a few of my friends’ films and people I respect. It’s not like I think I’m better than them. I just feel like if I only watch great things, I’ll never be able to make rubbish.
I’d never seen Sophie act before, so I didn’t know her range. Most of my actors, I’ve never seen them act before. I just use the person I have. I try to be honest about what I’m trying to get, and I am a good watcher. I know what looks good. I will sometimes do twenty takes if that’s what I need to get what I need — and sometimes that’s a problem on a Nigerian set — but I will get what I need.
Tell me your directing process using the lead, Immaculata...
Most of my films are based on another film in terms of performance. I have been trying to make Rosemary’s Baby for years because that’s one of my favourite films, even though the guy (Roman Polanski) who made it is a dickhead. This was like my Rosemary’s Baby, so I told her to watch it like fifteen times. Hereditary too.
She asked, “Dare, why are you doing this to me?” But that’s how I am. I told Bucci [Franklin] to watch like eight films. Then we’d break down what was good about them, and I’d just rein it into what I was looking for. Another thing, I’ve been on other sets, and I feel like directors are too chummy with the actors. I’m not chummy with my actors, so they try to impress me. They try really hard to impress me, making them be in the role.
Has anyone come back to you to say, “Thank you. It was a different process, but I appreciate my performance.”
[laughs] No. No. But then, I’m not a friendly person. I think a few actors know I care about them, but I am not the person you would call and gist. I’m not that kind of guy.
With Ile Owo, you are a different filmmaker. Initially, we thought your style was action, but Ile Owo is more of a psychological thriller. What’s Dare’s voice and style?
My voice now is whatever I feel like telling now. I have been writing since I was seven or six. I’ve written everything, and I’ve watched everything. If it’s good, I can do it; I just can’t do bad stuff. A film I really want to make is a story about people who have to move to Canada, but their love is in Nigeria, and how that affects their relationship. I can do many things; it just has to be authentic. The problem is a lot of the things I want to do, I can’t do authentically with the budget I have now. I am doing the genres I can afford.
We're going to round up with the Seven Cardinal Sin project. What is the plan? What's the endgame?
Okay, I have realised that I'm not a very personable person. And in most films, at least, what the world’s turned into now, there must be some part of the personal journey, or you must expose yourself to get the masses. I don't know if you see that now. Everyone has to tell their story. You have to know how they came up, and I’m not that kind of [person]. I'm a private person.
Also, I need structure and this gives me structure. I’ve always been interested in the idea. I like concepts that are across cultures. You don't need to be Nigerian to understand the seven deadly sins. They lend themselves directly to general conventions, like greed (Ojukokoro) was an action comedy. Igberaga [a future project] is going to be a straight-up psychological horror. Lust is going to be a romantic movie.
Dare Olaitan making romance?
Yeah, but have you seen American Gigolo? It's going to be about how the sin of lust destroys a person. Some of my favourite filmmakers in Nigeria, like Michael Omonua, do interesting things with themes, and that's just the place I'm trying to get to. I'm not sure of my style yet, but at least this gives me some structure to find myself. Like you keep saying, maturity. And that's one thing I keep telling everyone; anyone can say whatever they like about my films, but I know with each film, there's growth. I'm more confident with my choices now. I know what I'm doing, and I know what I want you to feel. My first film was all shot in [white]; there were almost no lights. I didn't understand anything about colour. Now I'm fucking with colour, and I will keep getting better.
I stoped to comment at ‘if I watch Ojukokoro now I cringe ‘ . Hello Director sir ????!!!! Isn’t that like one of the best things to watch from Nollywood till this day ?