Old vs New Nollywood Trend: How Funke Akindele and Kunle Afolayan Tension Turned Into Free PR

There’s a new noise in the air, and it is all about how we promote Nigerian movies today.

It all started with Enugu, before Alaba market took over as the hub of Nollywood in the early years. You would hear the intro at the start of a movie: “Marketed and Distributed in 123 Pound Road, Aba.” This was a form of marketing.

Then, when movies went digital with phones, laptops, and social media, DSTV, GOTV, and STARTIMES came along, and we started seeing Nigerian movies advertised in new ways, as a form of marketing on channels like African Magic Epic. Then came the irokoTV app; all these were forms of the old Nollywood promotion trend.

Now, thanks to cinemas and the current YouTube movie frenzy, Nigerian movies are promoted in new ways. Some use dancing as a form of promotion, sparking many comments on social media, while others believe that the actual value of a good film doesn’t require much promotion.

Beyond the old vs new Nollywood debate, personalities now drive promotion too. The recent tension between Funke Akindele and Kunle Afolayan is a clear example. A few subtle jabs and disagreements online quickly turned into free PR: quote tweets, Instagram callouts, fan wars in the comments, and think pieces across X.
Whether it was a real “carcass” or clever PR, the result was the same: trending hashtags, higher search interest, and fresh curiosity about their work. People who didn’t plan to watch their movies are suddenly paying attention to understand the drama.
This is another side of today’s Nollywood promotion: filmmakers themselves becoming part of the campaign. Their opinions, clashes, and public image all feed into engagement, proving again that in a world where attention is currency, even controversy can be marketing.

At its core, nothing has truly changed about why we promote. From the crackle of the VHS tape to the buzz of a TikTok trend, every era has shared one simple, human goal: to connect a story with its people.

What used to be a physical journey to a place like “123 Pound Road” has become a digital thread, a shared dance, a meme, a comment section buzzing with anticipation. The noise we hear today isn’t a sign of lower quality; it’s the sound of inclusion. Where once a few distributors decided what the nation would watch, power has shifted to the crowd. A student in Port Harcourt, a mechanic in Kano, and an auntie in London can now discover, share, and champion a film together.

The dancing, the skits, and the online frenzy are simply the modern version of the whole market talking at once. Organic, chaotic, and effective because it’s real. The old way told you where to buy the story; the new way invites you to live inside it long before you press play. As long as the film still has the power to hold you and make you feel, then every step, post, and performance that led you there has done its job. This is the vibrant, unstoppable heartbeat of Nollywood, finding its people in the language of the times.

So what do you think? Isn’t all of this still a form of marketing and promotion, even if it’s not dancing, as long as your movie sells, your audience is captivated, and the story truly resonates?