From Gilded Cages to Ghetto Dreams: A Review of 'Loving The Same Man'
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Rating: 3.5 / 5 Stars
Bimbo Ademoye, Eso Dike, and Bambam Olawunmi star in this 2025 NollyRok Studios release that's equal parts messy neighbor beef, heartfelt redemption, and that classic Nollywood spice of love blooming from chaos. "Loving the Same Man" kicks off with a hilarious food delivery fiasco and spirals into a tale of shattered pride, family secrets, and unlikely bonds in a cramped Lagos compound. As a Nollywood vet who's seen it all from grainy VHS to Netflix glow-ups, this one's got heart, humor, and enough Pidgin zingers to make you laugh out loud – but does it stick the landing? Let's dive deep.
The Hook: A Rebirth in the Trenches
The film opens not with a bang, but with a quiet, desperate flight. We meet Bisa (Bimbo Ademoye), a woman clearly at her breaking point. The cinematography here is intentional—tight, claustrophobic close-ups that mirror her mental state. When she sheds her designer clothes and assumes a new identity in a bustling, noisy compound, the visual palette shifts. The sterile, cold lighting of her father’s mansion is replaced by the warm, chaotic, and often dusty hues of the "ghetto."
This "rebirth" is the narrative engine of the film. Bisa isn't there for a vacation; she is hiding from a ghost. The script cleverly withholds the full details of her mother’s death until the third act, using her current surroundings to highlight the stark contrast between her internal turmoil and the external vibrancy of her new neighbors.
Cinematography: Cinematic Ambition vs. TV Roots
Visually, Loving The Same Man sits comfortably in the "New Nollywood" era, though it occasionally slips back into "TV-style" framing. The director makes excellent use of wide shots to establish the compound—a character in its own right. We see the hanging laundry, the shared corridors, and the communal living that defines Nigerian urban life.
However, the lighting in some interior night scenes feels a bit "flat," a common struggle in productions where power-light consistency is an issue. Thankfully, the color grading saves the mood, leaning into golden hour tones that make the blossoming romance between Bisa and Chi feel aspirational despite their modest surroundings. The camera work shines most during the dialogue-heavy scenes between the leads; the focus shifts subtly, capturing the micro-expressions that tell us more about their chemistry than the script ever could.
Performance Analysis: The Bimbo Ademoye Masterclass
It is a known fact in the industry: if you want a character who can transition from comedic irritation to soul-crushing grief in sixty seconds, you call Bimbo Ademoye. As Bisa, she delivers a layered performance. She avoids the "caricature" of a rich girl; she doesn't just act disgusted by her environment—she acts distracted by her pain.
Then there is Chi, played by Eso Dike. Dike is rapidly becoming one of Nollywood’s most reliable leading men. His portrayal of Chi—a delivery man who doubles as a grassroots herbalist—is grounded and authentic. His delivery of Pidgin English is fluid and natural, providing a perfect foil to Bisa’s more polished, albeit weary, English. Their chemistry is the heartbeat of the film. The "meet-cute" involving a tampered food delivery is classic Nollywood comedy, but they elevate it through timing and genuine sparks.
Sound Design & The Rhythm of the Compound
Sound is often the Achilles' heel of Nollywood, but here, it is surprisingly crisp. The dialogue is audible even in the noisy compound scenes, suggesting high-quality boom work or meticulous ADR.
What’s particularly impressive is the ambient soundscape. You hear the distant sound of a generator, the chatter of neighbors, and the clinking of pots—sounds that ground the film in Nigerian reality. The score is used sparingly, which is a welcome relief from the melodramatic soundtracks of the early 2000s. Instead, the film relies on silence during Bisa's moments of reflection, allowing her grief to breathe.
Thematic Depth: Grief, Herbal Medicine, and Social Mobility
At its core, the film explores the weight of "Black Tax" and the emotional toll of family expectations. Bisa’s brother, Collins, and their father represent the traditional Nigerian patriarchate—loving but inadvertently oppressive. Their constant reminders of the accident that killed Bisa’s mother aren't meant to be cruel, yet they act as salt in an open wound. This reflects a very Nigerian reality: we often don't know how to talk about trauma without assigning blame.
A standout subplot is Chi’s practice of herbal medicine. Usually, Nollywood portrays "Agbo" (herbal drinks) through a lens of poverty or "juju." Loving The Same Man takes a refreshing turn by treating it as a legitimate, albeit unpolished, skill. Bisa’s suggestion that Chi professionalize his business through education is a subtle nod to the need for formalizing Nigeria’s informal economy.
Narrative Structure & Plot Logic
The film follows a traditional three-act structure, but the pacing in the second act drags slightly. Some of the comic relief from the auxiliary tenants, while funny, feels like "filler" to stretch the runtime.
The "big reveal" about the accident is handled well, though the climax—a prank involving the father’s "death"—is a bit of a tired trope. In real-life Nigerian households, faking a death to bring a child home is a recipe for a heart attack, not just a reunion! However, the emotional payoff works because of the performances. When the father finally apologizes, it feels like a victory for every Nigerian child who has ever craved an "I’m sorry" from a parent.
Plot Gaps & Critiques
The Identity Issue: It’s a bit hard to believe that a high-profile woman like Bisa could live in a Lagos compound without being recognized via social media, especially in the age of TikTok.
The Timeline: The transition from Bisa being a "disgusting rich girl" to Chi’s business consultant happens a bit too rapidly to feel entirely organic.
Costume & Production Design: Authenticity Check
The costume department deserves praise for its restraint. Bisa’s transition from high-end silks to simple cotton wraps and t-shirts is visual shorthand for her stripping away her ego. Chi’s wardrobe is quintessential "hustler"—worn-out tees and practical shorts—which contrasts beautifully with the sharp suits worn by Collins. The locations are believable; the compound doesn't look like a set—it looks like a place where people actually live, complete with the "character" of peeling paint and communal buckets.
The Verdict: Is It Worth Your Data?
Loving The Same Man is a testament to how far Nollywood has come in telling simple stories with deep emotional resonance. It doesn't rely on explosions or excessive "soft-life" aesthetics to keep the audience engaged. Instead, it relies on human connection.
While it has its share of tropes, the film is elevated by its leads and its honest portrayal of the Nigerian middle-class struggle. It’s a story about finding yourself by losing your status, and it’s a journey worth taking.
Who should watch this? * Fans of Bimbo Ademoye (obviously).
Anyone who loves a "slow-burn" romance with a side of Nigerian humor.
People who appreciate stories about healing and family reconciliation.
My Thought: If you’re looking for a film that feels like a warm hug (and a bit of a reality check), this is it. Nollywood is at its best when it reflects our messy, beautiful, and complicated lives.
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