“The memories of the ones who have left us, will comfort us later.”
The debut-feature from Nigerian-British brothers Akinola Davies Jr (director) and Wale Davies (co-writer) fits seamlessly within the rich history of Sub-Saharan, African cinema and its exploration of memory. My Father’s Shadow (2026) follows brothers Remi (Chibuike Marvellous Egbo) and Akin (Godwin Egbo), 9 and 11 respectively, as their absentee father takes them to Lagos in search of unpaid wages. The brother’s pilgrimage to the big city coincides with the Nigerian election crisis of 1993.
The writer/director duo take an autobiographical approach to their work, exploring themes of memory as they tackle the grief that still plagues them since their father’s death. In many regards, My Father’s Shadow feels like we have unfiltered access to the brothers’ memories. Lagos becomes a vibrant cascade of sights and sound, yet it also fizzes with tension. The audience experiences the Nigerian capital as if it were our first time, just as it is the brothers. The sensory overload of visuals and sound place us into the perspective of Akin and Remi, the camera following their gaze as they experience the hustle and bustle of the big city.
But in experiencing such vibrancy, the brothers are also exposed to the harsh socio-political climate of a Nigeria brought to its knees by corruption, economic downfall, and military rule. In an interview for BFI’s Sight and Sound publication Akinola Davies Jr stated that he didn’t want to “spoon-feed the audience”, for which he succeeds. My Father’s Shadow doesn’t concern itself with delivering a dense historical retelling of Nigerian political turmoil. The film anchors our perspectives to the young boys, who just wish to spend the day with their father. Folarin (Sope Dirisu) is a mammoth figure in the eyes of his sons – and the audience. His presence dominates the frame, and his nurturing nature underlines it. However, the situation becomes so fraught that the brothers find themself out of the pan and into the fire.
The Davies brothers are clearly still feeling the weight of their father’s passing even after all these years, seeking to grieve and heal through filmmaking. Multiple scenes feel as though we are watching intimate family home movies. One scene features the kids and their father being let into an empty amusement park with all the rides available. The scene is pure gold – visually and emotionally. Akinola Davies constructs the scene as if it were shot on an old-fashion film camera as the visuals are interrupted with faux-film reel appearing on the projection. The joy on each of their faces captures a purity that feels rare amid the turmoil. Yet even as these golden-toned moments fight to maintain that joy, so too do the surrealist, technicoloured bad memories.
In My Fathers Shadow, time itself feels fragile. The Davies brothers wrestle with how to remember their father – as the loving, caring, and suspected revolutionary that he was rather than the martyr he became. Even Folarin’s constant attempts to pass on wisdom and guidance carry the urgency of a man running out of time. Despite all its beauty, the film insists on confronting loss. Yet, as the quote (spoken by Folarin) above suggests, to have a memory at all is beautiful, and to move on, you must remember.
Image Credit: My Father’s Shadow (2025)
