Idris Elba, Things Fall Apart, and Culture Gatekeepers

To my shame, I read Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart for the first time as a freshman at Obafemi Awolowo University. Two years before, I had read his last book, There Was a Country, a controversial memoir about his experience during the Nigerian Civil War. In There Was a Country, he gave a brief account of how his Things Fall Apart manuscript got stuck in limbo for months and almost didn’t get published. His illustrious career as one of Africa’s finest writers may have died before parturition if it never got published. 66 years later, the book has remained iconic in its significance, referential in perpetuity, and inspirational to successive generations of African writers.

You cannot claim to be a bibliophile of African literature having not read Things Fall Apart. It is sacrilegious. Think of what you may of Achebe’s politics during the civil war (a roving ambassador, as he described himself in There Was a Country) or of his proverbial stylistics as a writer, you cannot wear the toga of a lover of African literature without having Things Fall Apart in your library.  During my various stints as a tutor and teacher, I often started a debate by asking my students what they thought of Okonkwo, the larger-than-life protagonist in Things Fall Apart: a braveheart for beheading one of the colonial officers who had come to Umuofia to westernize them away from the ways of their ancestors or a coward for killing himself afterwards seeing he had started a war he couldn’t win.

I say all this to underscore the significance of Things Fall Apart, not just to Igbo people but to Nigerians at large. Being one of Nigeria’s greatest cultural exports to the world, Achebe’s debut novel has become sacralised as a literary colossus. It is understandable for Nigerian literature aficionados to be sentimental and overprotective of it. Over the weekend, Nigerians displayed that knee-jerk overprotective urge following reports that British actor Idris Elba is set to play Okonkwo in a new TV adaption of the novel. Typically, it should be the kind of news that would get Nigerians excited as they are wont to crave international validation. However, the report of David Oyelowo (a Nigerian-born British-American actor and producer) being the one producing it was not enough to quell the internet outrage.

Many criticised the casting choice of Idris Elba because he is not Igbo. No way he would be able to speak in a flawless Igbo accent, even if he tried. It is unfair to pass over a slew of talented Igbo actors for a Briton. Some argue the new adaptation should be in Igbo, not English because the novel is set in precolonial Igbo society. I find that quite interesting because the novel itself is written in English, not Igbo.

I understand the outrage against the casting of Idris Elba. But to understand is not to forgive. Anyone anywhere should be able to play a role as long as they understand the assignment. In fact, the job of an actor is best tested if they can play a role outside of their cultural and cosmological purview. The difficulty of faking authenticity, of playing someone in a totally different context from what you are familiar with, of morphing and giving life to the dramatis personae, is the very essence of theatre. The outrage shouldn’t necessarily be about the background of Idris Elba; it should be about whether he understands the assignment. And to be fair, the fears about his accent are justified given how Hollywood does a rendition of a generic “African accent”.

To focus on the background of actors is a slippery slope. Great stories have been written and acted by people not related to the stories in any way. For instance, Williams Shakespeare wrote a lot of plays set in ancient Rome, though he was English. Sahr Ngaujah, an American theatre actor of Sierra Leonean descent played Fela Kuti in Fela on Broadway. He delivered a stunning performance even though one could easily tell from his accent he isn’t Nigerian. David Oyelowo, the producer of the controversial new series himself played Seretse Khama, the first president of independent Botswana in A United Kingdom. In The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, a touching biopic of a Malawian boy who engineers a makeshift water pump to save his agrarian community from drought, Chiwetel Ejiofor, a Nigerian-born British actor plays the boy’s father. Chiwetel should not have played that role because he is not Malawian, if the logic of this outrage is anything to go by. But he delivered an excellent performance. I’m sure Malawi has a great many actors who could have played that role, perhaps better. But that’s not the point. Chiwetel understood the assignment. As a matter of fact, in preparation for the role, he learned Chichewa, the language spoken in Wimbe, the setting. He did whatever it took, even if it meant learning a new language. That’s what it means to be an actor.

How many times have we complained about the lack of that level of artistry in Nollywood? How often do we marvel at the dedication and depth that goes into the interpretation of roles in Hollywood? For instance, in Ray, if you didn’t know Jamie Foxx, you’d think he was indeed blind. Admittedly, Nollywood has greatly improved from the drab releases churned out in the 90s and the aughts. But the fact that a British actor has been cast to play Okonkwo is a testament to the dynamism of theatre in that part of the world.

There is an uncomfortable fact many don’t want to acknowledge with the casting of Idris Elba. He is more famous than all of Nollywood. From a business perspective, it makes sense to cast an Idris Elba rather than say an Alex Ekubo. It is what it is. An Idris Elba as the lead character is most certainly going to attract more eyeballs than any Nigerian actor could. Movie companies no longer gamble like they used to. What that means is there is less room for experimentation, trial and error. Investors want to be assured they’ll get their money back. As a producer, you’ve got to do it right. Hence, you almost have no choice than to cast someone with a rich box office history instead of being sentimental about the identity of an unknown actor because you want to adapt a novel from his culture. I am not saying it fair. But ultimately, it’s a business decision and even those complaining would likely have done the same thing David Oyelowo did.

Things Fall Apart has already been adapted by Nollywood in 1987. It’s time for a remake. Interestingly, despite the current rave about epic movies in Nollywood, it’s surprising no producer has thought of giving Things Fall Apart a new lease of life, especially with all the advantages of modern technology we are lucky to have today. I get that Nollywood has grown in spite of many structural limitations. But there is definitely room for more growth. It would be unfair to place great expectations on Nollywood producers any more than they are currently doing. However, the proof of how successful a story is is the willingness of people from other cultures to reenact it. Introducing Things Fall Apart to Western audiences in a TV series should be seen as a win for the culture no matter who plays it. Think of this as a cinematic truism of imitation being the best form of flattery.