Chef Black’s Humble Pie: A Deep Dive into the Viral Romance of "Love Seasoning"
#NollywoodReviews #LoveSeasoningMovie #ChefBlack
Overall Rating: ............. (3.5/5 Stars)
When a viral food critic's savage takedown of a family kitchen spirals into a nationwide "Holy Ghost Pepper Challenge," you know Nollywood's cooking up something spicy. Love Seasoning, the latest 2025 drop from Eso Dike TV starring Eso Dike as the ego-fueled Chef Black and Shaznay Okawa as the fierce chef Kimmy, clocks in at 1 hour 19 minutes of festive chaos, cancel culture satire, and slow-burn romance. This holiday rom-com doesn't just plate jollof rice—it serves a timely dish on online arrogance, family resilience, and love's unexpected flavors, all wrapped in Lagos' vibrant street energy.
As a veteran analyst who has watched this industry move from the VHS tapes of Alaba International to the slick 4K aesthetics of YouTube and Netflix, I find Love Seasoning to be a fascinating mirror of our current "Cancel Culture." It’s a film that asks: In the age of the viral review, who protects the small business owner from the man with a ring light?
The Visual Palette: Cinematography in the Age of YouTube
Right from the opening sequence, Love Seasoning establishes a visual dichotomy. We see the polished, high-contrast world of Chef Black (Eso Dike)—all ring lights, clean countertops, and crisp editing. This is contrasted with the warm, slightly cluttered, and "lived-in" aesthetic of Mama Chemy’s Kitchen.
The cinematography handles this transition well. The use of close-ups during the food reviews is particularly effective; the camera lingers on the steam rising from the rice, almost mocking the viewer who can’t taste the "culinary crime scene" Black is describing. However, like many YouTube-first Nollywood productions, there is a heavy reliance on "TV-style" medium shots during dialogue-heavy scenes. While the framing is clean, one wishes for more creative use of the Lagos backdrop to ground the story deeper in the city’s chaotic energy. The lighting remains consistent—a feat in Nigerian indie production—though some interior night scenes feel a bit "flat," lacking the cinematic shadows that could have heightened the emotional tension when Kemy receives the eviction notice.
Soundscapes and the "Jollof Music"
If there is one area where modern Nollywood often stumbles, it’s sound mixing. Love Seasoning, however, fares better than most. The dialogue is audible and crisp, even in the outdoor market scenes where Lagos ambient noise usually threatens to swallow the actors whole.
The score is used strategically. Instead of the "wall-to-wall" music found in older Nollywood films, the director allows silence to sit during the more poignant moments between Kemy and Black. The "Pepper Challenge" sequence is a sound design highlight—the frantic cutting between the sizzling pans and the rhythmic social media pings creates a sense of digital anxiety that any modern Nigerian can relate to. My only critique is the occasional "sentimental piano" loop that kicks in a bit too early during the third-act reconciliation; a bit more restraint would have let the actors' chemistry do the heavy lifting.
Production Design: Authenticity on a Budget
The production design team deserves a nod for their attention to class signifiers. Chef Black’s apartment is a temple to modern bachelorhood—minimalist, tech-heavy, and cold. In contrast, Mama Chemy’s Kitchen feels authentic to the Nigerian "bukka-plus" experience. The walls, which Black cruelly describes as looking like "Christmas vomited on them," feel real. They represent the hard-earned sweat of a mother trying to make her space inviting with limited resources.
The costume design further reinforces this. Kemy (Shaznay Okawa) is often seen in practical, "workman" outfits that highlight her status as the engine room of the family business, while Black’s wardrobe—fitted shirts and designer glasses—screams "influence" and "ego." When Black eventually puts on an apron, the visual transition signifies his internal shift from critic to student.
Narrative Structure: From "Cancel" to "Crush"
The film’s hook is immediate: a viral video that ruins a life. This is a very "2025" problem. The pacing in the first half is tight, moving quickly from the review to the fallout. The narrative structure follows a classic "enemies-to-lovers" arc, but with a uniquely Nigerian twist—the "Teaching Scene."
Nollywood loves a good apprenticeship subplot. Watching a man who calls himself "Chef Black" admit he can’t fry an egg without a script is satisfying. However, the film does suffer from the "dragging middle" common in long-form YouTube features. Some of the cooking lessons could have been tightened to leave more room for the fallout of the eviction subplot. The resolution, involving a GoFundMe and a live TV confession, feels a bit "deus ex machina," but in the spirit of a Christmas-themed romance, the audience is likely to forgive the convenience for the sake of the "feel-good" ending.
Performance Analysis: Dike and Okawa’s Sizzling Chemistry
Eso Dike as Chef Black is a masterclass in "likable arrogance." Dike understands the influencer persona perfectly—the practiced hand gestures, the catchphrases, and the hidden insecurity of a man whose career is built on someone else’s hard work. His transition from the "Villain of Allen Avenue" to a humbled student is believable because he plays the vulnerability with a touch of humor.
Shaznay Okawa provides the emotional anchor. As Kemy, she manages to balance "Lagos Girl" toughness with the heartbreaking weight of a daughter watching her mother’s dream crumble. The scene where she confronts Black about the eviction is the film’s emotional peak. Their chemistry is organic; it doesn’t feel rushed. You can see the shift in their eyes—from looking at each other as "The Critic" and "The Cook" to seeing the human beings behind the labels.
Symon Oko, in the supporting role, provides the necessary levity. His "Pidgin-infused" commentary keeps the film from becoming too melodramatic, acting as the voice of the audience who just wants everyone to eat and be happy.
Cultural Relevance: The "Oversharing" Generation
Love Seasoning is more than a romance; it’s a social commentary on the Nigerian digital economy. It explores the "Reviewer Economy" where a single negative post can destroy years of brick-and-mortar labor. It touches on the "Prodigal Son" syndrome—Nigerians who return from abroad (or move to upscale areas like Lekki) and lose touch with the "authentic" struggle of the streets.
The film also subtly critiques the "Chef" title inflation. In Nigeria, everyone with a TikTok account and a frying pan is a "Chef." By having the protagonist admit he’s just a "Food Critic," the film makes a bold statement about professional integrity versus digital fame.
The Verdict: Is It Worth Your Data?
Love Seasoning is a heart-warming, culturally astute film that manages to be both a cautionary tale and a romantic escape. While it occasionally leans on tropes and features a slightly rushed climax, the strength of the lead performances and the relevance of the themes make it a standout in this year’s festive releases.
It’s a film that reminds us that while "brutal honesty" might get you clicks, it’s empathy—and perhaps a little extra seasoning—that builds a community.
Who should watch this film?
Foodies who love a good Jollof debate.
Aspiring influencers who need a reality check on the power of their platforms.
Anyone looking for a "feel-good" Nollywood romance that doesn't feel like a recycled fairy tale.
My Verdict: Love Seasoning serves up a delicious blend of drama and romance. It’s a 3.5-star meal that leaves you satisfied, even if you saw the recipe coming from a mile away.
#NollywoodReviews
#LoveSeasoningMovie
#ChefBlack
No comments:
Post a Comment