Sacrifice or Stupidity? A Review of "Dear Future Wife" and the Price of the Nigerian Dream - Simply Entertainment Reports and Trending Stories

Breaking

Tuesday, January 6, 2026

Sacrifice or Stupidity? A Review of "Dear Future Wife" and the Price of the Nigerian Dream

Sacrifice or Stupidity? A Review of "Dear Future Wife" and the Price of the Nigerian Dream



#NollywoodReviews #ClintonJoshua #NigerianCinema2025


Overall Rating:  ............................  (3/5 Stars)


The Hustle is Real, but the Logic is Shaky

If there is one thing Nollywood has mastered, it is the art of reflecting the Nigerian "struggle." We see it in our daily lives—the relentless chase for a "soft landing," the pressure of unemployment, and the extreme lengths people go to for a breakthrough. "Dear Future Wife," starring the fast-rising Clinton Joshua and the emotive Sarian Martin, steps into this familiar territory with a story that is as heartbreaking as it is frustrating.


As a veteran of this industry, I’ve seen the "village boy makes it big" trope a thousand times. However, this film attempts to subvert the genre by mixing a modern corporate scam with a classic "contract marriage" plot. While it succeeds in pulling at the heartstrings, it occasionally trips over its own narrative feet.


1. Cinematography: A Tale of Two Worlds

Visually, "Dear Future Wife" is a study in contrast. The director uses lighting and framing to distinguish between the cramped, humid reality of the protagonists' initial life and the cold, glass-walled sterility of the corporate world.


Shot Variety: The film relies heavily on close-ups during the early scenes. When Olisa (Clinton Joshua) and his girlfriend (Sarian Martin) discuss their future, the tight framing captures the sweat on their brows and the desperation in their eyes. This makes the audience feel claustrophobic, mirroring their financial situation.


Visual Mood: Once Olisa moves into the corporate "Beatrice" era, the color grading shifts to cooler tones. The wide shots of the upscale apartments and offices emphasize the space and luxury Olisa has "gained," but they also highlight how isolated he is from his true self.


TV-Style vs. Cinematic: At times, the lighting feels a bit too "bright" for interior night scenes, a common Nollywood technical quirk where the desire for clarity overrides the need for atmospheric mood. However, the outdoor shots in Lagos are vibrant and capture the chaotic energy of the city perfectly.


2. Sound Design & Music: The Emotional Puppet Master

Sound is often the Achilles' heel of mid-budget Nollywood, but "Dear Future Wife" fares better than most.


Dialogue Clarity: The audio is crisp, particularly in the dialogue-heavy scenes between Olisa and Beatrice. There are fewer instances of that hollow "room sound" that plagues many home-video style productions.


The Score: The music is predictably melodramatic. High-pitched piano keys signal every sad moment, and heavy bass accompanies the "scam" revelations. While effective, a bit more subtlety—perhaps using silence to let the actors' faces do the work—would have elevated the tension.


Cultural Cues: The use of ambient street sounds—the distant sound of a generator, a passing okada—adds a layer of authenticity to the early scenes that makes the struggle feel lived-in.


3. Costume, Makeup & Production Design: Communicating Status

The production design team deserves a nod for how they used wardrobe to signal the characters' arcs.


Sarian Martin’s Look: Her character’s evolution (or lack thereof) is reflected in her modest "sewing mistress" outfits. Even when Olisa begins sending money, she retains a look of grounded modesty, emphasizing her loyalty.


The Corporate Mask: Olisa’s transition from ill-fitting shirts to sharp, slim-fit suits is the visual shorthand for his "arrival." It’s the classic Nigerian "packaging."


Authenticity: The makeup is kept realistic; we don’t see the "glam-up" in the village scenes that often ruins the immersion in other films. When they are poor, they look poor.


4. Narrative Structure: A Gripping Hook and a Rushed Climax

The film opens with a gut-punch: the 100,000 Naira scam. For anyone who has navigated the treacherous waters of Job-Hunting in Nigeria, this scene is agonizing. It immediately aligns the audience with Olisa.


Pacing: The middle act, where Olisa enters the contract marriage, moves at a brisk pace. The tension builds well as he tries to juggle two lives. However, like many Nollywood films, the third act feels like a sprint. The resolution of the pregnancy and the final confrontation happen so quickly that the emotional weight doesn't fully settle before the credits roll.


Flashbacks: The use of the sewing machine as a recurring motif (and the flashback to her selling it) serves as a powerful moral compass for the film.


5. Plot Logic & The "Nollywood Shortcut"

Here is where we must be critical. The "Contract Marriage for Inheritance" is a trope that has been milked dry.


Character Motivation: While Olisa’s desperation is clear, his decision to marry Beatrice without telling his girlfriend—under the guise of "doing it for us"—is a massive moral leap. It makes him a hard protagonist to root for at times.


The Inheritance Loophole: The legal logic of the uncle’s "marry or lose everything" demand is flimsy, but in the world of Nollywood melodrama, we accept these as the rules of the game.


The "Mulatto" Twist: This is the ultimate narrative shortcut. Instead of Olisa having to face the complex reality of a child with another woman, the script "saves" him by making the child biracial. It’s a convenient exit strategy that avoids a messier, more human ending.


6. Performance Analysis: The Joshua-Martin Chemistry

The film’s saving grace is the acting.


Clinton Joshua: He is proving to be a formidable lead. He plays the "confused man" exceptionally well. You can see the internal rot as he sells his soul for the job.


Sarian Martin: She is the soul of this film. Her portrayal of the betrayed lover is raw. When she realizes the man she "built" is now "living" with someone else, her performance is gut-wrenching.


Language: The natural blend of English and Pidgin feels authentic. It isn't forced "Queens English," nor is it exaggerated. It’s how Nigerians actually speak.


7. Cultural Relevance: The "Build-A-Man" Syndrome

"Dear Future Wife" taps into a heated Nigerian social media discourse: Should a woman suffer with a man to build him up? The film serves as a cautionary tale. It critiques the "arrival mentality" where the person who helped you at your lowest is treated as a relic of a past you want to forget. It also reflects the harsh reality of the Nigerian economy—where even a degree doesn't guarantee a seat at the table unless you "know someone" or are willing to compromise your values.


The Verdict

"Dear Future Wife" is a solid, engaging watch that will definitely trend on YouTube and streaming platforms. It’s a tear-jerker that manages to be both a romance and a corporate thriller. While it relies on some tired tropes and a very "convenient" ending, the performances by the leads make it worth the 90-minute investment.


Who should watch this? * Couples who love a good "test of love" story.


Fans of the "New Nollywood" aesthetic.


Anyone who has ever had to "hustle" in Lagos.


It’s a reminder that while money can buy a sharp suit and a lekki apartment, it can’t buy back a conscience once it’s sold.

 




#NollywoodTimes

#DearFutureWifeMovie

#NollywoodReviews 

#ClintonJoshua 

#NigerianCinema2025

No comments:

Post a Comment

Post Bottom Ad