Lionheart: More Than Just a Roar – A Deep Dive into Genevieve Nnaji's Vision

 Lionheart: More Than Just a Roar – A Deep Dive into Genevieve Nnaji's Vision

INTRODUCTION

Genevieve Nnaji's directorial debut, Lionheart (2018), isn't just another Nollywood film; it's a statement. It tells the compelling story of a woman fighting for her place and proving her worth in a world that often wants to keep her down. specifically, in the cutthroat world of Nigerian business. I’m going to pull this film apart, looking at it through four different lenses: how it's actually made (Formal Media Analysis), how women are seen (the Male Gaze), how we all understand messages differently (Stuart Hall’s Encoding/Decoding), and what it says about money and power (Marxist Critique). My aim is to show you that Lionheart doesn't just champion strong women; it subtly navigates the tricky waters of corporate power and cultural identity in our globalized world, even if it takes a few narrative shortcuts along the way.

 

How They Made the Magic: A Formal Breakdown of Lionheart

 

Lionheart really shows off some thoughtful filmmaking, and you can see it in every element, all working together to tell its powerful story.

 

Picture Perfect (Cinematography): The way Lionheart is shot, mostly by Yinka Edward, feels natural and real. You'll often see close-ups or medium shots, drawing you into the characters' emotions, especially during those intense family chats or boardroom showdowns. Sometimes, they'll pull back to show you the bustling streets of Lagos or the peaceful countryside, a clever way to contrast the modern business world with traditional roots. The lighting is bright and feels authentic, avoiding anything too flashy, which makes everything feel more grounded. And the camera? It moves smoothly, often following Adaeze (Genevieve Nnaji) as she walks through challenging spaces, subtly reinforcing her journey and sheer determination.

 

Setting the Scene (Mise en Scène): The world of Lionheart is incredibly well-thought-out, from the fancy corporate offices of Lionheart Transport, all glass and sleek furniture, screaming power, to the warm, inviting family home filled with beautiful Nigerian art and fabrics – a real grounding force for the story. Adaeze herself is always dressed perfectly, in sharp suits and elegant dresses, visually cementing her authority in rooms full of men. Even small details, like the big boardroom tables or traditional chieftaincy outfits, just hammer home the film’s themes of power and heritage.

 

The Sound of Success (Sound Design): The sound in Lionheart is subtle but plays a huge role in setting the mood. The dialogue is super clear, so you won’t miss any of those complicated business discussions. And you'll hear the sounds of Lagos traffic, market chatter, or quiet rural life, really pulling you into each scene. The music, by Remi Kudehin and Kulanen Ikyo, is mostly orchestral with touches of African melodies. It swells during emotional moments – when Adaeze is frustrated or finally triumphs – and then fades into the background during conversations, making sure you feel what the characters are feeling without being overwhelmed.

 

Seamless Storytelling (Editing): The editing in Lionheart, handled by Chuka Ejorh, keeps a nice, steady pace, letting the story unfold naturally. The cuts are smooth, transitioning effortlessly from one scene to the next, which makes the film easy to watch and enjoy. Sometimes, they'll show two things happening at once, like the family struggling while Adaeze is dealing with corporate drama. The editing always prioritizes clarity, keeping you glued to the characters' journey and the unfolding plot.

 

Bringing Characters to Life (Performance): The acting in Lionheart is generally strong and really adds to the film's emotional depth. Genevieve Nnaji shines as Adaeze, showing us her intelligence, her moments of vulnerability, and her incredible resilience. Nkem Owoh, as Chief Ernest Obiagu, is memorable – he’s funny, warm, and perfectly captures that traditional father figure. Even Peter Okoye, in a smaller role, is great as the supportive brother. The whole cast works together beautifully, creating believable family dynamics and corporate rivalries that make you genuinely care about what happens.

 

The Story Arc (Narrative Structure): Lionheart follows a classic story arc. It introduces Adaeze’s ambition and then drops the bombshell of her father’s illness, kicking off the main conflict. We then follow Adaeze’s uphill battle to save the company, dealing with her tricky uncle and complex business deals. The big moment is the crucial boardroom meeting and the resolution of the company’s fate. Finally, we see Adaeze stepping into her leadership role and securing Lionheart Transport’s future, leaving you with a satisfying conclusion.

 

The Gaze: Who's Looking at Whom? (The Male Gaze)

 

Even though Lionheart is all about a strong woman taking charge, it still plays a little with, and often flips on its head, the idea of the Male Gaze. You know, that traditional movie thing where women are often just there for men to look at? In Lionheart, Adaeze is definitely presented as attractive and capable. But here's the key: her attractiveness is never over-the-top or used just for show. Her professional clothes and confident posture make it clear her brain and determination are what matter, not just her looks.

 

Sure, male characters, like her uncle Godswill (Olu Jacobs) and rival businessman Hamza (Yakubu Mohammed), do watch her, but their gaze is usually about sizing her up, being skeptical, or challenging her – not ogling. The film largely avoids those long, lingering shots on Adaeze's body that are meant to please male viewers. Instead, the camera often puts us in Adaeze's shoes, letting us experience her struggles and triumphs right alongside her. This subtle shift effectively takes back control of the gaze, making us active participants in her journey rather than just passive observers.

 

Decoding the Message: How Lionheart Speaks to Us (Hall’s Encoding/Decoding)

 

Stuart Hall’s idea of Encoding/Decoding helps us understand that a film’s message isn’t always received the same way by everyone. The folks who made Lionheart (the encoders) clearly wanted to send a strong message about female empowerment, the importance of family, and the challenges of old-school Nigerian business structures. You see this in Adaeze’s sheer grit, her honesty, and how she eventually wins in a male-dominated world. That’s the preferred reading – the message they hoped everyone would get.

 

But some viewers might have a negotiated reading. They’d get the message about female leadership but might also think, "Hmm, that corporate takeover felt a bit too easy," or "Did she really get accepted that quickly?" They might also consider how the film balances Adaeze’s modern ambitions with respect for traditional customs. It's like, "I get it, but it's a bit more complicated than that."

 

Then there's the oppositional reading, where a viewer might totally disagree with the film’s main message. Someone taking this stance might argue that for all its talk of progress, the film still works within a capitalist system that ultimately keeps power where it is. They might say the male villains are too simple, or that the film doesn't really dig deep enough into the systemic problems women face in Nigerian business, preferring to focus on one person's triumph. An oppositional reader might also point out that while Adaeze succeeds, she essentially steps into her father’s role, rather than blazing a completely new trail, subtly reinforcing traditional male succession.

 

The Money Game: A Look at Wealth and Power (Marxist Critique)

 

A Marxist Critique of Lionheart would shine a light on how the film portrays economic power, the relationships between different social classes, and the conflicts built into a capitalist system. The whole drama of the film revolves around whether Lionheart Transport, a big business, will survive. It really highlights how fragile capitalist ventures can be and the ruthless competition that can lead to companies swallowing each other up. The fight between Adaeze’s family and the huge, powerful Hamza Industries is a kind of class struggle, even though they're both capitalists. Hamza, representing big money, tries to gobble up a smaller, family-owned business.

 

The film also subtly critiques how old traditions clash with modern capitalism. Chief Ernest, while respected, is initially stuck in his ways and ultimately pays a price for his traditional mindset when he gets sick. Adaeze, representing the new generation, has to juggle both, using her sharp business sense and understanding of community ties to save the company. The film ultimately champions the survival of a family business against a larger, more impersonal corporation, suggesting a preference for local, family-driven capitalism, even if it's operating in a global market. It doesn't radically challenge capitalism itself, but rather focuses on doing business ethically within the system and keeping a specific kind of ownership alive. The actual workers of Lionheart Transport are mostly in the background, their livelihoods dependent on these corporate battles, which fits the Marxist idea that the working class often gets caught in the crossfire of the wealthy.

 

CONCLUSION 

 

The Final Roar: Agency, Adaptation, and a New Era

 

Lionheart is a truly impressive directorial debut. It masterfully uses all those filmmaking elements to tell a gripping story about a woman's strength and her journey to navigate cultural shifts. By looking at how it’s made, we see a film with a clear, impactful visual and auditory language. Peeking through the Male Gaze, we notice a deliberate effort to move beyond simply objectifying women, putting Adaeze’s power front and center. Hall’s Encoding/Decoding model shows us that Lionheart can be understood in many ways, revealing both its empowering intentions and its subtle complexities. And finally, a Marxist Critique exposes the underlying economic battles and class dynamics, showing how the film grapples with capitalist realities and the push-and-pull between old and new business approaches. Ultimately, Lionheart stands tall as a rich exploration of identity, power, and what it takes to survive in a constantly changing world. It truly cements Genevieve Nnaji’s place as a powerful voice in African cinema today.

Assignment 4: Power in Pixels: A Formal Analysis of Peter Obi’s Presidential Campaign Poster

In the digital age, political communication has evolved beyond speeches and manifestos. Visual media—especially campaign posters—play a pivotal role in shaping public perception. Peter Obi’s 2023 presidential campaign poster, representing the Labour Party, is a compelling case study in how design elements can be marshaled to convey political values, leadership identity, and national unity. Through a formal media analysis, this essay examines the poster’s use of color, typography, image placement, and symbolism to decode its aesthetic and ideological messaging.

Color: A Palette of Patriotism and Passion

The poster’s dominant colors—green, white, and red—are not arbitrary. Green and white are the national colors of Nigeria, immediately invoking a sense of patriotism and national identity. Their presence suggests that Obi’s campaign is rooted in national interest, aligning his image with the aspirations of the Nigerian people. Red, prominently featured in the Labour Party’s logo, introduces a sense of urgency, energy, and revolutionary zeal. It signals action and change, reinforcing Obi’s image as a reformist candidate.

The interplay of these colors is strategic. Green evokes growth and renewal, white symbolizes transparency and peace, while red injects dynamism. Together, they construct a visual narrative of a leader who is calm yet assertive, patriotic yet progressive.

Typography: Clarity, Competence, and Confidence

Typography in political posters is more than aesthetic—it’s rhetorical. Obi’s name is typically rendered in bold, uppercase letters, often in sans-serif fonts that are clean and modern. This choice communicates strength, clarity, and approachability. The font lacks ornamentation, suggesting a no-nonsense, efficient leadership style.

Slogans such as “Vote for Competence and Integrity” are concise and direct, reinforcing the campaign’s core values. The typography’s legibility ensures that the message is accessible to a broad audience, while its boldness underscores the seriousness of the campaign. The visual weight of the text draws the viewer’s eye, ensuring that the candidate’s name and values are the focal points.

Image Placement: Centering the Candidate, Centering the Message

Peter Obi’s image is typically centered in the poster, occupying a dominant portion of the visual space. This central placement is not merely aesthetic—it is symbolic. It positions Obi as the nucleus of the campaign, the face of change, and the embodiment of the party’s ideals. His attire—often a simple black traditional outfit—conveys humility, cultural rootedness, and a break from the ostentation often associated with Nigerian political elites.

His facial expression, usually calm and composed, projects confidence and reliability. The absence of distracting background elements further isolates the candidate, allowing viewers to focus solely on his persona. This minimalist approach suggests transparency and invites viewers to engage directly with the candidate’s image, fostering a sense of trust and intimacy.

Symbolism: Visual Codes of Unity and Progress

The Labour Party’s logo—a gear encircling a family—appears in the corner of the poster, serving as a powerful symbol of the working class, unity, and social welfare. The gear represents industry and productivity, while the family signifies community and shared prosperity. This iconography aligns with Obi’s campaign narrative of economic reform and inclusive governance.

The simplicity of the poster’s design is itself symbolic. In a political landscape often marred by excess and spectacle, the clean layout and restrained visuals suggest discipline, order, and a focus on substance over style. The poster’s aesthetic restraint becomes a metaphor for the candidate’s political ethos.

National Unity Through Design

Beyond individual elements, the poster’s overall composition fosters a sense of national unity. The use of national colors, the inclusive symbolism of the party logo, and the candidate’s relatable presentation all work together to construct a unifying message. The design does not cater to a specific ethnic or religious group; instead, it appeals to a collective Nigerian identity. This is particularly significant in a country often divided along ethnic and regional lines.

The poster’s visual language is inclusive and aspirational. It invites viewers to imagine a Nigeria led by a competent, honest, and relatable leader. It positions Obi not just as a candidate, but as a symbol of national renewal.

Conclusion

Peter Obi’s presidential campaign poster is a masterclass in visual political communication. Through deliberate choices in color, typography, image placement, and symbolism, the design articulates a vision of leadership grounded in competence, integrity, and national unity. It transcends mere aesthetics to become a persuasive political artifact—one that encapsulates the hopes of a generation seeking change. In the realm of political media, this poster proves that power can indeed reside in pixels.

Assignment 3: Class on Display: A Marxist Critique of Chief Daddy

Chief Daddy (2018), directed by Niyi Akinmolayan and produced by EbonyLife Films, offers a rich tapestry of Nigerian elite culture—lavish parties, flamboyant fashion, and fierce familial entitlement. On its glossy surface, the film appears to be a humorous portrait of a wealthy patriarch’s sudden death and the family chaos that ensues. However, through the lens of Marxist theory, Chief Daddy becomes a compelling exploration of class structures, commodification, and the illusion of social mobility in modern Nigeria. This critique unpacks how the film constructs wealth, labor, and inheritance while subtly upholding elite privilege and glossing over systemic inequalities.

Wealth and the Illusion of Meritocracy

At the heart of Chief Daddy lies the figure of Chief Beecroft—a corporate magnate whose enormous wealth fuels the entire narrative. His character embodies the capitalist ideal: a self-made man who has risen to wealth and power through entrepreneurship. Yet the film does not show his labor or business acumen; instead, it focuses on the opulence he leaves behind. From expensive cars to designer clothes, wealth is portrayed as something to be flaunted, not questioned.

Marxist theory would interrogate the invisible labor that made Chief Beecroft’s empire possible. Who built the fortune he leaves behind? The absence of workers and class struggle in the film creates the illusion that wealth simply exists—that it’s a natural attribute of the bourgeoisie. As a result, the audience sees the elite squabble over inheritance without ever seeing the systems that generated it.

Inheritance and the Legacy of Class Power

The narrative’s central conflict—who gets what after Chief Daddy’s death—highlights inheritance as a tool for maintaining class dominance. The Beecroft family's entitlement to his wealth is not based on merit or contribution but on birthright and proximity to power. Marxism views inheritance as a mechanism through which the ruling class perpetuates itself, bypassing any meritocratic ideals that capitalism claims to promote.

In Chief Daddy, this is most evident in how the various characters—ranging from wives to mistresses to children—react to the reading of the will. Their identities and ambitions are defined not by their work or social contributions but by their relationship to the patriarch. The inheritance, rather than being a reward, becomes a symbol of entrenched class privilege and generational wealth.

Commodification of Identity and Relationships

Commodification—the transformation of relationships, values, and identities into marketable products—is another Marxist concern the film inadvertently illustrates. Many characters treat their social roles as assets. For example, Chief Daddy’s fashion designer son sees the family name as a brand to boost his business. Others use their familial status to access elite spaces and perks, revealing how identity in the bourgeois world is shaped less by personal depth and more by economic utility.

Furthermore, relationships themselves are transactional. Romantic partners, offspring, and friends orbit around wealth and what it can buy. The commodification of love, loyalty, and grief is especially clear during the mourning process, where rituals are grandiose performances rather than sincere expressions of loss.

Glorification of the Elite

While the film includes moments of satire, it largely revels in elite privilege. The lavish lifestyles, designer wardrobes, and cosmopolitan accents serve as aspirational imagery. The underlying message is that wealth confers legitimacy and admiration—despite the chaos it causes.

Rather than challenging the structural inequality represented by the Beecroft dynasty, the film glosses over class tension. Lower-class characters (such as domestic workers and drivers) are pushed to the margins, appearing only as background or comic relief. Their silence is a glaring omission, as Marxist critique insists on centering the proletariat in discussions of power and production.

Class Mobility: A Fantasy Deferred

Characters like Laila and Tinu attempt to break free from their class limitations, but their efforts are framed as either naive or futile. While they dream of upward mobility, the true message of Chief Daddy is that power is inherited, not earned.

Marxism argues that capitalism offers the illusion of mobility to legitimize inequality. This film subtly reinforces that idea: those born outside the inner circle of power may aspire to wealth, but access remains tightly controlled by birthright and social capital. Even the final resolutions of the film—where the family reaches a shaky truce—do not dismantle class structures. They merely reinforce the status quo with a warmer glow.

Economic Inequality as Background Noise

Despite its comedic tone, Chief Daddy exists within a very real Nigeria marked by stark economic inequality. However, the film rarely acknowledges this context. There’s little engagement with poverty, unemployment, or systemic injustice. The elite characters act in a vacuum, as if their world were not fundamentally dependent on a lower class that remains unseen and unheard.

By omitting the voices and realities of the working class, the film perpetuates what Marx called “false consciousness”—a worldview shaped by the ideology of the ruling class, which obscures the material conditions of exploitation and inequality.

Conclusion

Chief Daddy is a mirror held up to Nigeria’s bourgeois elite, reflecting their values, anxieties, and delusions. Through a Marxist lens, it becomes clear that the film doesn’t challenge class privilege so much as reproduce it with flair. Wealth is aestheticized, labor is hidden, and inheritance becomes a sacred right. While the film delights in satire, its humor often masks a deeper ideological function: normalizing a world where class structures are unshakable, and economic inequality is simply part of the background noise. By critically engaging with these themes, viewers can better understand how media shapes and reinforces the social order we live in.

Assignment 2: Framing Protest: A Stuart Hall Reading of CNN’s EndSARS Coverage

 

On October 20, 2020, the Lekki Toll Gate in Lagos, Nigeria, became the epicenter of a national tragedy when peaceful EndSARS protesters were reportedly shot at by the Nigerian military. CNN’s investigative report, “How a Bloody Night of Bullets Quashed a Young Protest Movement,” offers a powerful narrative of that night, combining eyewitness accounts, verified footage, and forensic analysis. Through Stuart Hall’s Encoding/Decoding Model, we can unpack how CNN encoded meaning into this media text and how various audiences might decode it—either in dominant, negotiated, or oppositional ways.

Encoding: CNN’s Intended Meaning

CNN’s report is encoded with a clear ideological stance: it frames the Lekki shooting as a state-sanctioned act of violence against unarmed civilians. The use of emotionally charged language—“bloody night,” “quashed,” “young protest movement”—immediately positions the Nigerian government and military as aggressors. The report includes:

• Eyewitness testimonies from protesters who describe the chaos and fear.

• Geolocated video evidence that contradicts official denials.

• Ballistic analysis linking bullets to Nigerian military weapons.

These elements are not neutral. They are carefully selected and arranged to construct a narrative of state brutality, youth resistance, and institutional denial. CNN’s encoding aligns with Western journalistic values of transparency, accountability, and human rights advocacy.

Dominant-Hegemonic Reading: International Viewers

For many international viewers—especially those in liberal democracies—the dominant reading is likely to align with CNN’s intended message. These audiences may decode the report as a credible exposé of authoritarian overreach. The visual evidence, expert analysis, and emotional testimonies reinforce a familiar narrative: peaceful protesters versus oppressive regimes.

This reading is reinforced by CNN’s global reputation and the broader context of the Black Lives Matter movement, which had gained global traction earlier that year. The EndSARS protests, in this frame, become part of a global struggle against systemic violence.

Negotiated Reading: Nigerian Public

Among Nigerian viewers, particularly those sympathetic to the EndSARS movement, the decoding may be negotiated. While many accept the core message—that violence occurred and that the state bears responsibility—there may be skepticism about CNN’s motives or the completeness of the report.

Some may question:

• Why CNN focused on this story.

• Whether the report oversimplifies Nigeria’s complex political landscape.

• If the West is using the incident to undermine Nigerian sovereignty.

This negotiated reading accepts the truth of the violence but resists the implication of helplessness or external saviorism.

Oppositional Reading: Nigerian Government and Allies

The Nigerian government and its supporters are likely to adopt an oppositional reading. From this perspective, CNN’s report is seen as biased, inflammatory, or even neocolonial. Officials initially dismissed the allegations as “fake news” and accused CNN of relying on unverifiable sources.

This decoding rejects the encoded message entirely, reframing the report as:

• A misrepresentation of events.

• A threat to national security.

• An external attempt to destabilize the country.

This oppositional stance is rooted in a broader distrust of Western media and a desire to control Nigeria’s international image.

The Power of Framing

Hall’s theory emphasizes that meaning is not fixed at the point of production. CNN’s report, while meticulously constructed, enters a contested media space where meaning is constantly negotiated. The same footage can evoke outrage, skepticism, or defensiveness, depending on the viewer’s ideological position.

Moreover, the report’s global circulation means it participates in transnational discourses on protest, governance, and media credibility. It becomes not just a story about Nigeria, but a symbolic battleground for competing narratives about power and resistance.

Conclusion

CNN’s “How a Bloody Night of Bullets Quashed a Young Protest Movement” is a potent example of how media texts are encoded with ideological meaning and decoded through diverse cultural lenses. Stuart Hall’s model reveals the polysemic nature of media—how a single report can be read as truth, manipulation, or something in between. In the case of the Lekki Toll Gate shooting, the stakes of interpretation are not just academic—they are deeply political, emotional, and, for many, personal.

Assignment 1: Who Owns Her Image? Male Gaze vs. Oppositional Gaze in Tiwa Savage’s ‘Koroba’

Tiwa Savage’s Koroba is a vibrant, visually arresting music video that blends Afrobeat rhythms with bold aesthetics and unapologetic femininity. But beneath its catchy beat and colorful visuals lies a deeper question: who controls the narrative of the Black female body in popular media? Using Laura Mulvey’s theory of the Male Gaze and bell hooks’ concept of the Oppositional Gaze, this essay explores how Koroba navigates the complex terrain between empowerment and commodification in the representation of Black Nigerian womanhood.

The Male Gaze and the Spectacle of Femininity

Laura Mulvey’s seminal essay Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema (1975) introduced the concept of the male gaze, arguing that mainstream visual media often positions women as passive objects of heterosexual male desire. In this framework, the camera becomes an extension of the male viewer’s gaze, lingering on the female body in ways that fragment and objectify it.

In Koroba, this dynamic is evident in the way the camera frequently frames Tiwa Savage’s body. Close-up shots of her hips, legs, and cleavage—often accentuated by tight, revealing outfits—suggest a visual language designed to entice. The choreography, while confident and assertive, is also stylized in a way that aligns with conventional standards of sexual appeal. The lighting and camera angles often highlight her skin and curves, reinforcing her role as a visual spectacle.

This framing aligns with Mulvey’s assertion that women in visual media are often reduced to “to-be-looked-at-ness,” where their value is tied to their physical appearance rather than their agency or voice. Even though Tiwa is the central figure in the video, the way her body is presented raises questions about whether she is in control of her image—or whether she is being shaped by the expectations of a male-dominated industry.

bell hooks and the Power of the Oppositional Gaze

bell hooks’ concept of the oppositional gaze offers a powerful counterpoint to Mulvey’s theory. In her 1992 essay The Oppositional Gaze: Black Female Spectators, hooks argues that Black women have historically been denied the right to look—to claim visual agency—and that developing a critical gaze is an act of resistance against both racial and gendered oppression.

From this perspective, a Black feminist viewer might reject the objectifying elements of Koroba and instead focus on how Tiwa Savage reclaims her image. For instance, in one scene, a man attempts to touch her without consent, and she responds with a slap—a moment of defiance that asserts her bodily autonomy. Her lyrics, too, are laced with irony and critique: “I no come this life to suffer,” she sings, flipping the script on traditional narratives of female submission.

The oppositional gaze allows viewers to see Tiwa not just as a sexualized figure, but as a woman who is navigating—and challenging—the structures that seek to define her. Her bold fashion choices, confident posture, and direct eye contact with the camera can be read as acts of self-definition, rather than submission. In this reading, Koroba becomes a site of resistance, where Tiwa uses the tools of the industry to assert her own narrative.

Empowerment or Commodification?

The tension between empowerment and commodification is at the heart of Koroba. On one hand, Tiwa Savage appears in control—she owns her sexuality, commands attention, and refuses to be silenced. On the other hand, the visual language of the video often conforms to the aesthetics of the male gaze, raising concerns about whether her empowerment is being packaged for consumption.

This duality is not unique to Tiwa Savage. As a global pop star operating within a commercial industry, she must navigate the fine line between authenticity and marketability. Her representation in Koroba reflects this balancing act: she is both the subject and the object, the performer and the product.

bell hooks reminds us that the oppositional gaze is not just about critique—it’s about possibility. It invites viewers to look beyond surface-level interpretations and to consider the deeper meanings embedded in visual culture. In the case of Koroba, this means recognizing both the constraints and the agency at play in Tiwa Savage’s performance.

Conclusion

Tiwa Savage’s Koroba is a rich text for exploring the dynamics of visual representation, particularly as they relate to Black Nigerian femininity. Through the lens of Laura Mulvey’s male gaze, we see how the video risks reducing Tiwa to a spectacle for male pleasure. But through bell hooks’ oppositional gaze, we uncover a more complex narrative—one of resistance, self-definition, and cultural pride.

Ultimately, the question of who owns Tiwa Savage’s image remains open. Perhaps the answer lies not in choosing between empowerment and commodification, but in acknowledging that both can coexist—and that the power of the gaze lies in how we choose to see.

Critique 2: bell hooks’ Intersectional Analysis of Race and Representation

Introduction

bell hooks, a renowned feminist thinker, critiques media for its racial and gender hierarchies, focusing on how Blackness is represented in mainstream culture. Her work emphasizes intersectionality, exploring how race, class, and gender intersect in media portrayals.

In critiquing Feliz Navidad Nigeria!, I will analyze:

• How Nigerian culture is represented—whether it is authentic or shaped by Western ideals.

• How race and ethnicity are framed—whether the cast is diverse or conforms to limited stereotypes.

• How power dynamics operate—whether the ad reinforces dominant social hierarchies or empowers marginalized identities.

Cultural Representation and Authenticity

One of hooks' core arguments is that media frequently co-opts Black culture while distorting its authenticity to align with mainstream (often Western) values. If the advertisement aims to celebrate Nigerian Christmas traditions, how genuinely does it do so?

• Western vs. Indigenous Influence: Does the aesthetic feel genuinely Nigerian, or does it borrow heavily from Western holiday imagery?

• Music and Atmosphere: Does the ad incorporate Nigerian festive traditions such as local music, dialects, and cultural practices? Or does it merely overlay a generic Christmas aesthetic onto Nigerian settings?

• Representation of Nigerian Identity: Does the cast reflect diverse Nigerian ethnic groups, or is it limited to a singular portrayal of Nigerian culture?

Race, Power, and Inclusion

hooks' critique extends beyond cultural representation to examine who is empowered in media. If the advertisement reflects class hierarchies, eurocentric beauty standards, or token representation, it fails to offer a truly inclusive portrayal.

• Who Holds Power? Are the central figures in the ad upper-class Nigerians? Does it reinforce elitism, favoring lighter-skinned individuals or Western-style aesthetics?

• Economic Representation: Does the ad depict a fantasy of affluence and luxury, excluding working-class Nigerians from its joyful holiday imagery?

• Diversity in Nigerian Identity: Does the advertisement include a range of complex, multidimensional Nigerian identities, avoiding a singular or romanticized depiction?

Challenging Oppressive Media Structures

An ad that follows hooks' perspective should challenge dominant media norms, ensuring that race, class, and gender dynamics are equitably represented.

• Authentic Storytelling: Is the narrative shaped from a Nigerian perspective, or does it rely on external (Western) influences?

• Breaking Beauty Norms: Does the ad celebrate diverse Nigerian aesthetics rather than conforming to eurocentric ideals?

• Empowering Representation: Are women, lower-class individuals, and marginalized ethnic groups depicted with autonomy, power, and equal presence?

Conclusion

A critique through bell hooks’ lens reveals whether Feliz Navidad Nigeria! truly represents Nigeria’s diverse identity or merely packages a Western holiday aesthetic within an African setting. If it challenges dominant hierarchies, celebrates local traditions, and promotes a multi-faceted vision of Nigerian identity, it aligns with progressive media representation. But if it favors elitism, exclusionary beauty standards, or Western idealization, it reinforces existing media biases.

Final Thoughts

Both critiques explore distinct ways media reinforces or challenges societal norms. Mulvey’s male gaze critiqueexamines gender dynamics, while hooks’ intersectional critique highlights race, class, and inclusivity. Let me know if you’d like refinements based on specific details from the ad!

Critique 1: Laura Mulvey’s Male Gaze in Advertising

 

Introduction

Laura Mulvey’s seminal work, Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema, explores how mainstream media—particularly film—positions women as passive objects of male desire. The concept of the male gaze refers to the way visual media structures its depictions of women through a masculine, often objectifying perspective. This framework is deeply relevant in advertising, where gender representation plays a crucial role in influencing consumer culture.

In this critique, I will analyze how Globacom's Feliz Navidad Nigeria! advertisement engages with or challenges the male gaze. Does the ad reinforce traditional gender dynamics? Are women depicted as active participants or merely as visual pleasure for the viewer? By examining camera techniques, gender roles, visual framing, and narrative structure, I will assess whether the advertisement perpetuates patriarchal norms.

The Male Gaze in Visual Composition

One of Mulvey’s key arguments is that media often constructs women as spectacle, meaning their presence is designed for pleasurable viewing rather than active participation in the narrative. If the advertisement includes highly stylized shots of women, particularly lingering close-ups on their bodies, it risks reinforcing this spectacle-driven representation.

• Camera Framing: If the ad frequently uses shots that emphasize female beauty over agency—such as slow-motion sequences, fragmented body shots, or exaggerated focus on appearance—it suggests a prioritization of visual pleasure over narrative function.

• Costume and Styling: Are women dressed in a way that caters to traditional beauty standards? Is their presentation reinforcing femininity as an aesthetic ideal rather than an active role in the celebration?

• Interactions with Male Characters: Are women engaged in meaningful interactions, or are they positioned as decorative elements within the festive atmosphere?

Gender Roles and Participation

Mulvey’s theory extends beyond visual techniques to examine how gender roles are structured in media narratives. In holiday advertisements, there is often a clear division: men as providers or leaders, and women as recipients of joy or objects of admiration.

• Who Drives the Narrative? Does the advertisement place male figures in dominant roles, such as leading the festivities, giving gifts, or being active participants, while women exist primarily to react?

• Representation of Domesticity: Does the ad reinforce traditional roles—such as women preparing holiday meals, decorating the space, or serving others? If so, it continues the media trope of placing women within domestic spheres rather than public or leadership roles.

Subversion of the Male Gaze

It’s equally important to ask whether the ad challenges or disrupts Mulvey’s framework. Some advertisements actively subvert gender norms by showcasing empowered female characters, rejecting traditional beauty standards, or placing women in dominant roles.

• Agency vs. Passivity: Do women make independent choices, actively shape the festive narrative, or appear as central figures with control over their own experience?

• Diverse Representation: Does the ad feature women in roles outside the standard holiday aesthetic—such as professional settings, leadership roles, or diverse representations of femininity?

• Camera Reframing: Does the visual composition treat all genders with equal respect, ensuring balanced representation rather than disproportionate focus on female beauty?

Conclusion

Through Mulvey’s lens, the advertisement can either reinforce or challenge traditional patriarchal structures. If the ad presents women primarily as objects of visual pleasure, conforms to traditional gender roles, or prioritizes aesthetics over agency, it aligns with the male gaze. However, if it offers a more balanced, inclusive representation, allowing women autonomy, equal participation, and non-objectified presence, it moves toward a more progressive media portrayal.