Love and Life

Have you ever watched a movie that gave you the overwhelming feeling it was someone’s last-minute idea? Love and Life truly feels like a few friends decided over brunch one Tuesday to shoot a film that weekend, since they happened to be in town. They easily settled on a genre, threw in a heartfelt angle, wrote a quick synopsis, chose some pretty locations, and then all arrived that weekend to shoot.

The film is a story of three friends: Abike (Rita Dominic), Ivy (Michelle Dede) and Osas (Nse Ikpe-Etim). All three of the friends are similar in socioeconomic status and relative life experiences but very dissimilar in their current romantic entanglements. Osas, the free spirit of the group as there is always one, has divorced her husband for some unclear reason and is now dating younger men for the clear reason that it makes her “feel younger”. She is in a relationship with Dante, a younger man who she likes more than she is willing to let on. Osas takes him for granted and treats him like a toy boy until he revolts, and then she spends the entire movie in this inner struggle to apologize and do better that manifests in outward childishness.

Ivy is married to Dekunle (Chidi Mokeme), who has become increasingly withdrawn in their marriage of late. Disinterested in intimacy with Ivy, he appears to hardly have any time for her anymore. It seems evident he is having an affair, as a younger woman is shown at his side in one too many scenes. We also meet Abike, the wise mediator of the group, a necessary archetype. Having lost her husband 8 months ago, Abike is still adjusting to her new life as a widow. Zemuron (Anthony Monjaro), her late husband’s business partner and friend, repeatedly implores her to join the struggling company, but Abike avoids dealing with her grief or returning to work. Instead, she distracts herself by trying to solve her friends’ problems, a tendency clearly highlighted to the audience by Zemuron.

The storyline is so simplistic it borders on insulting. Even shallow stories have some depth, yet this narrative lacks any complexity or nuance. The writers make obvious, clumsy attempts at profundity, as evidenced by the character of Abike. Her grief and meddling in her friends’ relationships seem designed to introduce emotional depth, but these themes are handled poorly. None of the “deeper” material lands with any meaningful impact or artistry.

The blame lies squarely with the creators behind the camera – the writers, directors, and others. The on-screen talent has tackled weighty subject matter before with aplomb. Nse’s work in “The Wait” delivered a much more poignant take on grief and loss, as did Rita’s prior roles. With capable actors like these, the film should have yielded awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping artistry. Yet the subpar script renders even established performers flat and unconvincing at times.

In certain scenes, one is left questioning whether the actors can perform at all, simply because the writing gives them nothing to work with. The script lacks all rhyme or reason. It feels hastily thrown together with no care for logic or character development. The resolution exemplifies this sloppiness, as we are supposed to accept and celebrate a deceased man’s business partner hitting on his widow a mere 8 months after his death. It strains all credibility and makes for an utterly contrived, cringeworthy attempt at closure.

In Love and Life, resources and skills come together to create a truly uninspired film. It seems a few friends had the idea on a whim and haphazardly threw something together, rather than carefully crafting a compelling story. The result is a movie that feels rushed, predictable, and lacking in depth or originality.