From the very beginning, the path William Benson carved for himself in Nollywood was one of quiet, deliberate intent rather than clamorous pursuit. His journey began not on a film set, hungry for quick fame, but in the foundational worlds of the 1990s, amidst the crackling airwaves of radio dramas, on the resonant stages of the theatre, and within the disciplined study of language and literature.
This early grounding provided a robust toolkit long before he ever stepped in front of a camera, instilling in him what director Russell Oru would later recognize as a foundational “respect and good etiquette for this profession.” For Benson, acting was never a destination but a craft to be mastered, a language to be learned with patience.
His turning point, he shares, was not an external accolade but an internal declaration. It was a conscious decision to step away from what he calls “every crap that comes my way,” a resolve to stop chasing the lowest common denominator. “Never would I aim for the lowest seat in the film industry,” he states, his voice carrying the weight of that choice.
This commitment to quality over quantity, to stillness over frantic hustle, became his professional compass. He decided to build his value patiently, to be still and let his roots grow deep, trusting that the right roles would find the actor who was truly ready for them. This wasn’t about the industry taking him seriously; it was about him taking his craft with a seriousness that could not be ignored.
This meticulous, research-driven approach defines Benson’s process. He describes it as a clear, almost scientific formula: “Reading, Research, Analysis, Practice, Performance.” He begins by immersing himself in the character’s world, understanding their “assignment” within the story.
Director Russell Oru witnessed this firsthand, noting that Benson arrives on set with fully realized backstories, filling in narrative grey areas with motivations that aren’t written in the script, lending his performances a rare and compelling nuance. Yet, fascinatingly, this intense preparation exists in harmony with a desire for spontaneity.
Director Taiwo Egunjobi observed that Benson “is not the kind of person that would want to rehearse a lot.” His philosophy is to keep himself “fresh” and “virgin” for the moment the camera rolls, wanting to be surprised even by his own performance to capture that spark of authentic, in-the-moment truth. It is this balance of deep homework and present-moment freedom that makes his performances feel both deeply considered and thrillingly alive.
The role that would introduce his disciplined craft to a global audience arrived, as he describes it, through a mixture of divine timing and a reputation that quietly preceded him. His casting in Kemi Adetiba’s critically acclaimed Netflix series, To Kill a Monkey, felt destined.
Benson recounts a day of fasting and prayer, a moment of kneeling that seemed to spiritually coincide with the very instant the creative team remembered him. The project’s writer-director, Kemi Adetiba, had discovered him through a self-tape monologue and a brief but potent scene in an earlier film.
Mutual connections in the industry, like fellow actor Tola, became his advocates, telling Adetiba plainly, “This is the person… this guy has been looking for. He’s one of the best actors you can ever find in Nigeria.” For Benson, this was the culmination of his patient readiness. He entered the project not with a preconceived performance, but with a profound trust in his director’s vision. “I’m always prepared for any role,” he explains. “It’s just for me to have a good director… to help me drive through the path they want me to go through.”
On set, this translates into a collaborative spirit that his directors consistently praise. He sees himself not as a star, but as a dedicated instrument for the story. “My work here is actually to do the things you want me to do,” he told director Taiwo Egunjobi. This professionalism manifests in a formidable technical prowess.
Egunjobi remains in awe of Benson’s capacity to handle “chunks of dialogue… in one single take without missing a bit,” a skill that grants filmmakers incredible creative freedom. Russell Oru recalls filming a powerful, emotionally charged one-take scene between Benson and co-star Tosin Adeyemi for Dead Air; the first take was so electrically perfect it created what Oru calls a “Dead Air vibe” of flawless live performance. As a scene partner, Tosin Adeyemi notes, “you already know that you’ve struck gold,” because Benson is “willing to go all the way and even extra for the best result.”
For Benson, the act of performance is a disciplined separation of self and story. “I never get to the world character,” he asserts. “I’m not the character, no. I’m just the boarding…” He views his work as holding a mirror to society, a task that requires study and understanding, not personal fusion. He consciously draws a clear line between William Benson the person and the souls he temporarily inhabits, allowing him to explore darkness, light, and every shade in between without losing himself in the process.
This professional distance, however, does not translate to coldness. Colleagues consistently describe him as collaborative, jovial, and deeply emotionally aware on set. Egunjobi emphasizes that he “makes himself like a tool to be used for the story,” an approach that fosters a uniquely creative and trusting environment.
Having navigated Nollywood’s transformative years, Benson holds a thoughtful, critical perspective on its evolution. He readily acknowledges the industry’s monumental growth in production quality and the surge of formidable talent. Yet, he challenges his community to expand its narrative ambitions. He observes that storytelling often remains in a familiar comfort zone of familial dramas, relationship entanglements, and historical epics. He advocates for more stories that grapple with contemporary societal systems, existential questions, and genres like sophisticated action and psychological thrillers.
“We need to step outside our comfort zone,” he urges, believing firmly that Nigerian cinema has the talent to tell globally resonant, complex stories that move beyond well-trodden themes. This push for narrative ambition mirrors his own career choices, gravitating towards complex characters in thematically rich projects like To Kill a Monkey, which uses a gripping crime thriller to explore the corrosive pressures of ambition and wealth.
His journey, inevitably, has not been without its challenges. Benson speaks candidly about the industry’s inertia, the frustrating periods when his phone doesn’t ring despite his readiness and proven ability. He has navigated these seasons with a profound, almost spiritual patience, a faith in a timeline larger than his own. “What God doesn’t give to me, man can’t give it to me,” he shares.
This perspective has armored him against desperation, allowing him to use periods of waiting for continuous refinement, trusting that the right opportunity would align with his prepared state, just as it did with To Kill a Monkey.
So, when audiences think of William Benson beyond the captivating characters he portrays, what does he hope they see? He aims for a legacy defined not by celebrity, but by an unwavering standard of excellence. He hopes to be remembered as an actor who “never reduced the standard,” a performer whose quiet dedication to truth elevated every frame he occupied.
He is, as director Taiwo Egunjobi glimpsed, not trying to be a star in the typical, flashbulb sense. “He always tells you, ‘my work here is to actually do the things you want me to do,'” Egunjobi notes.
In an industry rapidly ascending the global stage, Nollywood needs these master craftsmen: artists who build characters from the inside out, collaborators who elevate everyone around them, and quiet pillars of integrity who remind us that true success is built not on the volume of one’s voice, but on the depth of one’s purpose.
From the early days in theatre to commanding screens worldwide, William Benson’s journey is a powerful testament to the idea that in a world of noise, the most resonant sound is the quiet, confident work of a master fully committed to his craft.