The very first film that I saw when I was about eleven or twelve years old was called Sanders of the River. It was a Hollywood film, and it featured the African American baritone Paul Robeson. I remember really enjoying the film, although it was negative to black people. I only realized this when I was more mature and able to analyze what was being portrayed on the screen. The film was edited differently from what Paul Robeson had been led to expect, and he was very angry at Hollywood, but Hollywood was very powerful. As an adult, I realized the power of this medium and that the only way to undo the damage done with it was to use the same medium. That is when I went to the USA to study film and theater design in 1963. After studying, I went on to do internships, working on the original film The Fugitive and the series Hogan’s Heroes.
My father was a photographer and was, for two years, the official photographer of President Tubman of Liberia. My siblings and I learned to take photographs at a very young age to help my dad pay our school fees. My father used to make his own home movies of the family which he shot on 8mm film. I still remember the camera. It was one of those you had to crank before it worked. My father exhibited films at cinema houses. He wanted me to keep up the business, but I was never really interested. I wanted to be a textile designer and not a filmmaker. You know how we Africans are, you always think you will better yourself if you go to Europe to study. I went to England, to study textile design in Manchester, but it was funny, because I found the Europeans were fascinated by the African designs and colors and textures. So I ended up teaching them instead of me really learning much there, and I felt cheated by this supposed betterment of my education. My father was also quite a writer on the theater, and following in his footsteps, I switched to theater. At the time, I had a cousin studying film at the London International Film School, and he was making a short film. He asked me to do the production design for his film and, of course, I agreed. It was in London that my desire to work within film was really aroused. I decided to study film and went to New York to the Academy of Dramatic Arts.
When you entered the film industry in Ghana, what was the filmmaking landscape like?
Before my time, Nkrumah had put film on the agenda and when I returned to Ghana in 1967, I worked as a set and production designer for the Ghana Film Corporation. Nevertheless, really it was a far-fetched occupation for blacks. It was really only government that could make use of this medium, because they had the money. The British colonialists used film during the Second World War to communicate how great the British military was and how much greater you could be if you joined them!
How did you finance your first film?
I started to do commercials and eventually created my own advertising company, Target Advertising which is now Target Saatchi and Saatchi. In addition, I formed the company Film Africa Ltd. When I wanted to make Love Brewed in an African Pot, it was very difficult to find the financing, because the banks were very skeptical about loaning money for a film to an individual. No amount of me convincing them worked — it was just too risky for them. They wanted security in the form of property and, of course, I did not have that. Then I got a telephone call from my father-in-law who told me that he had heard about what I was doing. He asked me why I did not come to him to ask for help, and of course, I said, “How can I ask my father-in-law for his house as security?” And he said to me, “I have faith in you.” This was quite a dilemma for me; because I wanted to make my film; but the risk was that I might lose my wife if things did not work out. I took the risk and I was given the loan by the bank. Now you can imagine how people were when they heard I had a bank loan to make this film. The crew made all kinds of demands when they heard the loan was approved. They thought I had a lot of money. I eventually overcame this obstacle and Love Brewed in an African Pot was made. It was a huge, sell-out success. I was very happy and, as you can imagine, quickly went to fetch my father-in-law’s papers from the bank and returned them to him. He offered me another loan, but I said, “No, thank you.” I could not risk the threat of losing my beloved wife again.
What was the outside world’s reaction to films from the continent?
There was certainly a prejudice against African films. Beyond Africa, the films were always confined to the art house theaters for smaller audiences. Wherever there were Africans where the film was showing, word of mouth would compel them to see my film, but my films have never been able to reach the mainstream theaters. Kenya was the first country outside Ghana to see Love Brewed in an African Pot. I went to see the Kenya Film Corporation, and they refused to show my film, because they said Africans do not like to see African films! I eventually got a theater to show the film. It was shown the very same day that the James Bond film For Your Eyes Only was opening. For one solid month, the cinema was packed to see my film. So much so, that 20th Century had to withdraw my film from the screens so they could make some money from the James Bond film. I made good money with that film, enabling me to pay my bank loan.
Heritage Africa is a film that addressed many concerns about the de-Africanization of the African spirit and persona. How did Ghanaian audiences respond to some of the issues that were addressed in your film? Did people reassess their lives as Africans, versus Western identity?
I was very nervous as to how certain sections of society would take it. I thought the middle and upper classes would scoff at the film. But I was shocked at their reaction — it touched a chord within them. It made people do some soul searching. Universities everywhere invited me to show the film and lead discussion around the issues it raised. Dignitaries saw the film when they visited Ghana. The President wanted to see the film with all the actors, crew, members of parliament and government ministers. When the film was over, former president Jerry Rawlings took the stage and started to re-enact scenes from the film. “Thank God, you put this on film for all of us to see,” he said.
Do people still see the film today?
No, unfortunately. In Europe they would try to frustrate the screenings. I had about five prints, but after much use and sending the prints all over, they began to tear and were nearly destroyed by over-use. I do hope I can put it out on video.
Quite often when films are made by African filmmakers, the films are described as African films and never simply as a “film.” Is it necessary to make that distinction?
No. This is one of those discriminatory tags that they give films from our continent to keep you behind the “yard.” A good story is a good story, and we have a lot of talent on this continent.
How important is it to you as a filmmaker to present African images of Africa?
This has been one of my greatest concerns. Therefore, whatever I do, I want to ensure that what I do counters the stereotypical western portrayal that makes even Africans themselves believe in that negative portrayal. This is how I started my TV studios. I want to bring young people around and tell them what film can do for our development. I screen some of those awful films for young people and have discussions with them on what is happening on the screen. The proliferation of the video culture in Nigeria is most painful to me because they mostly try to emulate Hollywood and portray our people in such negative ways. God would not forgive me if I did not share some of these lessons with the young.
How do you view the use of language in making films from the African continent?
As a director, language is very important. Certain expressions are not translatable, and much is lost when you translate to a foreign language. This barrier restricts us, and it becomes a hindrance in drama. The economics of film forces one to take on a foreign language in the making of our films. You find that even in one country like Ghana there are lots of different dialects. If you want to reach those people you use a language that is common to all but often compromises much of the meaning of your work.
The distribution of African films has complex challenges that has been debated for decades. What are some of your thoughts?
Distribution, that is the crux of the matter. I got ripped off so many times with Love Brewed in an African Pot. Even in Zambia — I had a nasty experience, where the film grossed $558,000. After all sorts of deductions I was told I would receive $68,000. But even that money, I never received. The issue even went to government, but in the end, I received nothing. I want to believe that distribution of our films on this continent will only become real and beneficial when we are in charge of our theaters.
How do you feel about the shifts in filmmaking technology that have basically made the medium accessible to more people to make films?
Video has come at the right time. I cannot raise the money I raised for my films way back. The cedi is worth very little, and I would have to raise literally billions of cedis to make a film today. So, I think video is a good thing because of its accessibility.
However, as filmmakers we should not look to the cheapness of video to worsen our own image as with many of the Nigerian videos. We have a responsibility as image-makers and storytellers. The stories we tell should have a message that has a positive influence on our development.
How do you see your role as a filmmaker?
I see it as a crusading role, pioneering role, which should draw the attention of every African filmmaker. The best way to rid ourselves of some of these complexes is through this medium, which has been used to de-humanize us, de-Africanize us. Globalization comes with choices. What are we doing to contribute to civilization? Europeans took a lot from Africa and Africans. White people always wanted to learn more. If we want to be respected, we have to tell our own stories.
About the interviewer
Letebele Masemola-Jones is a South African independent film and television producer and has her own production company called Quest Star Communication, through which she is currently in production with a short fiction film called Mirror, Mirror by Victor Molele, and is curator of the first Sithengi Film Festival in Cape Town. Letebele is a consultant on the international co-production Drum-Stories from Sophiatown, being directed by Zola Maseko, as well as the executive producer of the film version in production of Ayoka Chenzira’s play Flying Over Purgatory. Over the past six years, she worked on over twenty dramatic and award winning films in eleven African countries as supervising and executive producer, under the series of New Directions and Mama Africa films.
About the interviewer
Letebele Masemola-Jones is a South African independent film and television producer and has her own production company called Quest Star Communication, through which she is currently in production with a short fiction film called Mirror, Mirror by Victor Molele, and is curator of the first Sithengi Film Festival in Cape Town. Letebele is a consultant on the international co-production Drum-Stories from Sophiatown, being directed by Zola Maseko, as well as the executive producer of the film version in production of Ayoka Chenzira’s play Flying Over Purgatory. Over the past six years, she worked on over twenty dramatic and award-winning films in eleven African countries as supervising and executive producer, under the series of New Directions and Mama Africa films.
Editor’s Note: This interview was originally published in Through African Eyes: Dialogues with the Directors (Vol. 1), African Film Festival, Inc.’s first publication. Released during AFF’s 10th anniversary season, the anthology features conversations with twenty pioneering African filmmakers and remains an important record of African cinema’s history and evolution. Purchase the book here: https://africanfilmny.org/shop/books/through-african-eyes-vol-i/