Directed by Kayode Kasum, Love, Lust & Other Things isn’t just a Nollywood romantic drama; it’s a tangled web of emotion, desire, and second chances. With a title that teases chaos and chemistry, the film follows one woman’s dizzying ride through love lost, lust rekindled, and the things in between.
At the heart of the story is Lydia, a woman who finds herself romantically entangled with not one, not two, but three very different men: CJ, her ex-husband and the father of her children; Soji, her steamy, unresolved past lover; and Khalid, the wealthy, mysterious billionaire trying to win her heart in the present.
Plot
The film opens on a seemingly romantic note: CJ and Lydia, married for ten years, are celebrating their anniversary with their long-time friends, another couple from their university days. It’s all fine wine and laughter, and they even have two beautiful kids. But when the celebration ends and the lights go dim, things take a sharp turn. What should have been a passionate night ends in frustration, as CJ once again fails to satisfy Lydia in bed. Emotionally drained and frustrated, Lydia turns to self-pleasure for relief, a moment CJ unexpectedly overheard. Shocked and humiliated, he confronts her. Lydia, worn out from years of unmet emotional and physical needs, finally snaps. She declares she’s done. And just like that, their decade-long marriage unravels.
Three years later, Lydia is now a thriving real estate agent, fully in her independent era. While showing a luxury property, she meets Khaleed Sheteema, a billionaire with charm, influence, and interest. He’s powerful and persuasive, and in no time, he begins to woo her. At first, Lydia is swept up by his lifestyle and confidence. But beneath the money and polished image, Khalid is emotionally unavailable and intensely controlling. He’s always on the move, and Lydia quickly finds herself longing for the emotional depth and consistency that his wealth can’t provide.
Things get even more complicated when Lydia attends her old school reunion. There, she runs into Soji, the ex before her ex-husband. He’s the one who once set her soul (and body) on fire, and despite her efforts to act indifferent, it’s obvious that the flame still flickers. Cue a flurry of steamy flashbacks and unresolved emotions. Just like that, Soji re-enters her life.
Fast forward to Lydia’s child’s birthday dinner. She invites CJ, as the father. She also invites Soji. It’s awkward already, but it’s about to get messier. Unexpectedly, Khaleed shows up. So now, Lydia is hosting her ex-husband, her ex-lover, and her billionaire situationship, all in one room. Tension is thick. CJ senses Soji’s presence, and his old insecurities flare up. He always knew Soji was “the one before him,” and it still haunts him.
Later that night, once CJ has left and the kids are asleep, Lydia and Soji share a moment, a kiss. But guess who sees them? Khaleed. Furious but composed, he distances himself… temporarily.
Khaleed, determined not to lose Lydia, decides to eliminate his competition. He offers Soji a deal: $1 million to disappear from Lydia’s life. Soji, tempted and maybe even tired of the triangle, accepts. But just as Khaleed is preparing an elaborate proposal to claim Lydia once and for all, she has an epiphany.
Despite all the twists and temptations, Lydia realises that her heart still belongs to CJ. She visits him, hoping for reconciliation. But the door swings open to another bombshell. CJ is in bed with another woman. Jealousy and regret consume Lydia, and in a heated confrontation, she confesses that she once cheated on him with Soji while they were still married. It’s a raw, vulnerable moment. Yet through the pain, they find clarity. The feelings are still there, buried beneath betrayal and time.
Khaleed, unaware that Lydia’s heart is already elsewhere, goes all out with a romantic proposal. But she turns him down. Instead, she calls CJ and asks him to come get her. When he does, it’s clear they both still want to try again. And so, in true cinematic fashion, they choose each other again, closing the chapter on lust and complications, and rewriting one on forgiveness, second chances, and love.
Cast
Osas Ighodaro as Lydia was a paradox. Aesthetically? She served. Grace, poise, elegance, she gave us high-value woman energy. But the moment she opened her mouth or had to emote beyond blinking or sighing, the curtain dropped. Her performance lacked authenticity and depth. You were always aware she was acting. There was no moment where she disappeared into the role. It was as if she were cosplaying heartbreak, lust, and indecision, and it was exhausting to watch.

Ramsey Nouah, as Khaleed, gave us what he usually gives: a rich man with a power complex. While he walked the part, his accent became its own character. One moment it was supposed to be Hausa, next it was giving Lagos Island elite. It was inconsistent, forced, and distracting. If the Hausa angle wasn’t going to be committed to, why bother?
Now, Kunle Remi (Soji) did what needed to be done. He brought the mystery, the chemistry, the heat. Wale Ojo? Effortless as always. A masterclass in how to deliver your role even when the script is betraying you.
Real Warri Pikin, Yakubu Muhammad, Gloria Anozie Young, Efe Irene and others were decent fillers, but nothing truly stood out beyond the surface.
Language
The film was mostly in English with light touches of Hausa. Understandable, given not all characters were native to the North, but considering this was shot in Abuja and key characters like Lydia and Khaleed were Hausa, the lack of cultural richness in language felt like a missed opportunity to anchor the film in its supposed setting.
Final take
There’s something about Love, Lust & Other Things that feels like a cocktail made by someone who read the recipe once and just started freestyling. On paper, the film had all the ingredients: a star-studded cast, a daring plotline about a woman tangled between three men, and a promise of romance, scandal, and chaos. But the execution? Let’s talk about it.
Continuity? Nonexistent. It felt like the editors were on shuffle mode. Scenes felt disjointed, transitions abrupt. You’d be forgiven for thinking you accidentally skipped 15 minutes, only to realise… nope, that’s just how they shot it.
Scriptwriting was an Olympic dive into mediocrity. With seasoned actors like Ramsey and Wale Ojo fumbling through lines like they were reading cue cards for the first time, you know something went wrong at the foundation. Dialogue lacked depth, conflict felt scripted (pun intended), and emotional beats missed their mark.
Plot-wise, the film tries to be bold but forgets to be believable. The divorce lacked emotional weight. There was no real buildup or backstory that justified Lydia and CJ’s split, just one bad night and boom, marriage over. Then we’re tossed into this merry-go-round of suitors with minimal chemistry and no emotional grounding.
And Soji? The mysterious “blast from the past” that Lydia suddenly starts kissing and confiding in, even though she was ghosting him for years? Make it make sense. His reentry felt more like a writer’s convenience than a character-driven moment.
The subplot with the friends and fertility? Random. Forced. It felt like the writers Googled “subplots for drama films” and picked the first suggestion. It didn’t blend into the main story; it was just there.
Love, Lust & Other Things had potential, but it tripped over its own heels. It’s a lesson in how poor scripting, continuity issues, and flat performances can sink even the glossiest of productions. Beautiful settings and clean visuals aren’t enough when the storytelling limps and stumbles from scene to scene.
By the end, you’re not swooning or sympathising, you’re just wondering: when did they shoot this, who approved it, and can they please not do it again like this?




