For decades, Nollywood has been at war with itself—not with swords or guns, but with nostalgia versus progress. The question is simple but divisive: was Old Nollywood better, or has New Nollywood taken the crown? Some argue that the past was a golden age of originality, while others insist that modern Nollywood has finally gone global. But to settle this debate, we must go back to where it all began.
Old Nollywood: Raw, Tribal, and Fearlessly Dramatic
Before the glossy premieres and international film festivals, there was a time when Nollywood was nothing more than home videos and street vendors.
The 1990s saw the birth of what we now call Old Nollywood, pioneered by the Igbo traders who saw an opportunity in direct-to-video films. Kenneth Nnebue’s Living in Bondage (1992), directed by Chris Obi Rapu, was the watershed moment. The film, made on a shoestring budget, introduced audiences to the dark world of ritual killings, greed, and redemption. And just like that, Nollywood exploded.
The industry was, for the most part, divided along ethnic lines. The Igbos dominated the English-language home video market with films like Blood Money (1997), Karishika (1996), and Nneka the Pretty Serpent (1994). The Yoruba industry, which had been thriving since the days of Hubert Ogunde’s traveling theatre, continued producing deeply cultural narratives, driven by legends like Tunde Kelani (Saworoide, Thunderbolt). Meanwhile, the Hausa film industry, known as Kannywood, built its own empire with Bollywood-inspired aesthetics and moral-driven storytelling (Wasila, Sangaya).
What made Old Nollywood special? It was unapologetically Nigerian. The stories were dramatic, exaggerated, and sometimes supernatural, but they resonated deeply with audiences. Whether it was Tony Umez crying endlessly in Died Wretched (1998) or Pete Edochie delivering proverbs in Igodo (1999), Old Nollywood gave us moments that still live rent-free in our minds.
But let’s be honest—production quality was questionable. Poor sound, shaky cameras, and recycled storylines were the norm. The market was also overrun with cheap, rushed productions, making piracy a profitable enterprise.
New Nollywood: Global, Sophisticated, and Business-Driven
By the late 2000s, a new era was emerging. The industry was no longer about home videos sold in traffic; it was about cinema, streaming, and global appeal. Filmmakers like Kunle Afolayan (The Figurine, Aníkúlápó), Kemi Adetiba (King of Boys), and Genevieve Nnaji (Lionheart) began pushing for higher standards. Budgets increased, storytelling improved, and international recognition followed.
Unlike Old Nollywood, which was deeply partitioned along ethnic lines, New Nollywood is a fusion of everything. Igbo, Yoruba, and Hausa actors now work together in big-budget productions, creating films that appeal to diverse audiences. Funke Akindele, a Yoruba actress, now makes pan-Nigerian hits like Battle on Buka Street and A Tribe Called Judah, while Kannywood actors like Ali Nuhu appear in mainstream Nollywood projects.
Technology and streaming platforms like Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Showmax have also changed the game. In the past, Nollywood films had a short lifespan, released on VHS or DVD and quickly forgotten. Now, a film can be watched globally, long after its cinema run. This means bigger returns, wider audiences, and higher stakes.
So, Who Did It Better?
The answer depends on who you ask. If you love nostalgia, supernatural thrillers, and the raw energy of storytelling, Old Nollywood is unbeatable. But if you prefer high production value, international recognition, and a more structured industry, New Nollywood is the obvious winner.
But here’s the real answer, Nollywood is not about “better” or “worse.” It is about evolution. The same industry that gave us Glamour Girls (1994) now gives us Shanty Town (2023). The same country that made Diamond Ring (1998) a classic is now producing international blockbusters. Whether old or new, Nollywood has done something extraordinary, it has put Nigerian storytelling on the global stage.
Old Nollywood made us, and New Nollywood is taking us further. And if the likes of Funke Akindele, Kunle Afolayan, and Netflix have anything to say about it, we’re just getting started.
I very much agree with the fact that old Nollywood was deeply Nigerian. The language, the music, the storylines, every single part of the production was deeply indigenous. I think one problem I have with new Nollywood is that they’re trying so hard to imitate foreign movies (which we’re not doing well anyway). It feels as though we’re ashamed of our heritage or that we seek external validation so much
While it is agreed that old Nollywood had questionable production skills, we could agree that they didn’t exactly have better options. They used cameras that were available, edited with limited skills and made do with the limited resources that they had.
Am I saying we should go back to the 90s? Absolutely not. I’m saying there has to be a way to fuse old and new, to progress and be indigenous, to connect with our roots and still produce stellar movies. We’re trying but we simply need to do more
Well done Joan. I enjoyed reading this
While acknowledging the influence of foreign film industries on Nollywood, I disagree that Nollywood is merely imitating foreign movie industries and losing their cultural heritage as stated by Hadassah.
Our evolution is rooted in technological advancements and improved storytelling techniques. Despite these external impact, I commend Nollywood producers for remaining committed and sticking to our culture and traditions. Recent films like Anikulapo, House of Gaa, Seven Doors, The Tribe Called Judah and many more reveal the dedication to our root.
Thank you Joan, I enjoyed reading your article from start to finish you got me hooked.????