
Film is often regarded as leisure – a source of relaxation, amusement and escapism. Yet across cultures and throughout history, cinema has functioned as far more than entertainment. It is a powerful instrument of public education, moral formation and cultural stewardship. Because film communicates through images, stories and emotions, it shapes how societies understand themselves, their values and their sacred symbols. This influence explains why films provoke strong public reactions when they appear to trivialise or undermine deeply held beliefs.
At its best, film is both a mirror and a teacher. It reflects shared values and social norms while transmitting culture from one generation to the next. Through characters, conflicts and resolutions, cinema communicates what a society honours, tolerates or condemns. It preserves language, rituals, dress, music and collective memory, enabling younger generations to encounter their heritage in accessible and engaging ways. By inviting viewers to imagine the consequences of greed, violence, compassion or sacrifice, film nurtures empathy and moral reflection. In this sense, cinema becomes a classroom without walls—one that educates informally, yet powerfully
Because of this influence, film also carries responsibility. Societies instinctively recognise that not all stories are morally neutral, particularly when they touch on religion, race, identity and communal symbols. This understanding explains why religious bodies, cultural institutions and regulatory agencies intervene when films are perceived as offensive or socially destabilising.
It is against this backdrop that one must situate the controversy surrounding ‘A Very Dirty Christmas’, a film produced by popular Nollywood actress Ini Edo and directed by Akay Mason. Released in Nigerian cinemas on December 16, 2025, the film features a prominent cast including Lateef Adedimeji, Nancy Isime, Eucharia Anunobi, IK Ogbonna and Wumi Toriola. Marketed with the tagline, “This Christmas, the only thing getting unwrapped are secrets,” the film centres on a chaotic family reunion in which long-buried secrets are exposed.
Responding to the backlash, Ini Edo has defended the film by insisting that it was created not to offend, but to provoke reflection and conversation. “Art, at its highest form, is meant to provoke thought, spark conversation, and reflect the complexities of human experience,” she said. “It is in this spirit that A Very Dirty Christmas was created.”
This defence deserves to be taken seriously. From Aristotle’s theory of catharsis to modern aesthetics, art has long been understood as a means of stirring emotion in order to deepen moral perception. Even within the Christian intellectual tradition, thinkers such as St Augustine acknowledged that art can unsettle the soul as a step toward truth. Provocation, therefore, is not inherently illegitimate.
Yet classical philosophy and Christian theology are equally clear on a crucial distinction: provocation is not a moral end in itself. Aristotle insisted that art must rightly order the emotions (orthos pathos), directing them toward the good rather than merely exciting them. Art that provokes without moral orientation does not elevate the human spirit; it disorients it. The question, therefore, is not whether art provokes, but whether it provokes toward truth.
Christian theology sharpens this point further. St Paul famously acknowledges freedom—“All things are lawful”— but immediately qualifies it: “not all things are beneficial… not all things build up” (1 Corinthians 10:23). Moral legitimacy is not determined by intention alone but by consequence. Freedom detached from responsibility degenerates into licence.
It is here that Ini Edo’s defence falters. To claim that offence was unintended is insufficient when the symbolic weight of Christmas is well known, the timing of the release deliberate, and the language of “dirt” publicly associated with a sacred season. In Christian understanding, sacred symbols are not neutral cultural artefacts. To trivialise the sacred, even indirectly, is not simply to provoke thought but to rupture meaning.
Modern liberal philosophy also undermines Ini Edo’s defence. John Stuart Mill’s harm principle permits freedom of expression only insofar as it does not cause harm to others. Harm, as Mill later clarified, includes deep offence that threatens social cohesion. In a plural society like Nigeria where religion is not merely a private belief but a core element of communal identity, symbolic offence can become a civic problem, not merely an artistic choice.
It is precisely these concerns that informed the response of the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), which publicly expressed reservations about the film’s title and promotional framing, arguing that it risked offending Christian sensibilities during the sacred Advent and Christmas season. While the National Film and Video Censors Board (NFVCB) clarified that the film had passed through established classification procedures and was not intended to disparage the Christian faith, it nonetheless acknowledged that public perception remains a critical component of effective regulation. In response, the Executive Director/CEO of the Board, Dr. Shaibu Husseini, disclosed that the NFVCB had engaged the producers and requested a modification of the film’s title to avert religious tension, reaffirming that religious sensitivity and peaceful coexistence lie at the heart of its statutory mandate.
Even more emphatic was the intervention of the Order of Knights of Saint Mulumba Nigeria (KSM). As a body of lay faithful within the Catholic Church, the Knights framed the issue not merely as one of taste, but of sacrilege. In formal letters to both the NFVCB and the Advertising Regulatory Council of Nigeria (ARCON), signed by the Supreme Knight, Sir Steve Adehi, SAN, the Order condemned the film’s advertising as a “deliberate attempt to desecrate Christmas,” describing the billboard placement, festive colouring and timing of the release as a mocking trivialisation of one of Christianity’s most sacred celebrations. The Knights warned that turning the Christmas season into a caricature laden with vulgar insinuations ventured into the realm of blasphemy and posed a threat to religious harmony and public peace.
In its letter to the NFVCB, the Order stated that it was “constrained to formally bring to your notice a highly offensive advertising material for a film titled *‘A Very Dirty Christmas’, conspicuously displayed on a billboard in a major part of Lagos.” According to the Knights, the strategic placement of the billboard ensured maximum visibility and widespread exposure to residents, commuters and other road users. “The attendant effect of this distasteful and insolent advertising material on both the informed and the unwary is best left to the imagination,” the letter observed.
The KSM’s position underscores a fundamental truth: cultural and religious symbols are not mere aesthetic tools. They carry emotional, spiritual and communal weight. When filmmakers deploy such symbols carelessly or provocatively, they are not merely exercising creative freedom; they are intervening in a moral ecosystem. Public outrage, in such circumstances, is not irrational censorship but a form of social self-preservation aimed at safeguarding shared values.
History reinforces this point. Internationally, The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) faced bans and protests over its portrayal of Jesus, while Life of Brian (1979), though satirical, was restricted in several countries due to religious objections. In Nigeria, Half of a Yellow Sun was initially withheld from release over concerns about national sensitivity before later approval. These examples demonstrate that societies across cultures recognise cinema’s power either to strengthen or fracture moral consensus.
Creative freedom, therefore, is not absolute licence. Producers owe society a duty of care in exercising that freedom. Withdrawal or modification of an artistic work does not negate creativity; rather, it situates it within social responsibility. As the NFVCB acknowledges, the law empowers regulators to order the withdrawal of a film where the public interest so demands. This authority exists because film, unlike private expression, operates in the public square, shaping attitudes, emotions and social relations on a mass scale.
Ultimately, a film promotes the moral and cultural fibre of society when it tells truthful stories, honours human dignity and treats sacred symbols with reverence. Cinema can critique society, expose hypocrisy and provoke reform—but such critique strengthens society only when it is grounded in moral seriousness rather than gratuitous provocation or marketing adventurism. The concerns raised by CAN and KSM are therefore not an attack on art, but a sober reminder of its moral weight.
Film is not merely entertainment. It is education, memory and moral conversation. In recognising this, society affirms that creativity flourishes best not in contempt for shared values, but in honest and respectful dialogue with them.
Dr. Onyima, a member of KSM, teaches media and communication at Paul University, Awka
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