Labake Olododo, the latest cinematic outing from Iyabo Ojo, arrives with all the markings of a modern Nollywood epic. It’s grand, loud, filled with big names, and eager to join the new wave of blockbuster traditional dramas. Directed by Biodun Stephen and produced by Iyabo Ojo herself, the film has already proved its commercial muscle with a ₦50 million opening weekend.

But once the noise fades, what remains is a film that tries to do a lot: tell a story of war, love, betrayal, and power, all wrapped in traditional regalia and ancient wisdom. What it offers in ambition and scope, it undercuts with uneven storytelling, inconsistent logic, and misaligned messaging. It’s impressive in moments but far from seamless.

Plot and Narrative Structure: A Commanding Setup, But a Wobbly Start

Labake Olododo employs a familiar Nollywood structure that opens in medias res, with a disorienting flash-forward to pique the audience’s interest, before unwinding the events through a series of flashbacks. While this narrative technique is often used for shock value, here it leaves the audience confused, especially since the opening scene doesn’t immediately connect to the overall plot. The film struggles with a disjointed exposition, revealing key story elements (like Labake’s true identity and the significance of the opening scene) too late in the narrative. The payoff for these structural choices ultimately feels forced, especially when the film reveals that the Labake we saw in the opening scene is the daughter of the woman we initially thought was the protagonist.

The first three scenes offer little narrative grip. It’s unclear who is who, why they matter, or what’s at stake. It a young girl called Labake who enters a bush and sights something. This sequence is left floating until the very end, where it’s finally linked back during Labake’s downfall. The problem? It takes nearly half the film for the central conflict, which is Labake’s betrayal of the neighbouring kingdom Olugbon, to become fully clear. Before that, viewers are expected to stay engaged without enough context or direction.

In the following scenes, the problem worsens. This structural choice affects how we perceive the story’s stakes and coherence. Even the opening war sequence, which is meant to establish Labake’s legend, feels like style without weight. Despite its energy and spectacle, it lacks real definition. Blood is shed, swords clash, but there’s no clarity about what they’re fighting for. The moment feels like spectacle for spectacle’s sake, lacking narrative weight. Rather than grounding the viewer, it disorients, leaving us to watch noise without understanding the stakes. Characters appear, disappear, and speak in riddles. The viewer is left trying to piece things together without a firm narrative grip.

Despite its flaws, the revenge plot is Labake Olododo’s strongest pillar. The slow burn of betrayal—close allies quietly sowing seeds, Labake’s overconfidence blinding her, and the final reveal where her inner circle turns—is well crafted. The strategic planning by her enemies feels thought-through.

Characterization and Themes

Thematically, the film is trying to juggle a lot—power, honour, betrayal, romance, vengeance. But it doesn’t always balance those threads well. The romantic subplot, in particular, feels forced. The betrayal that follows, while dramatically juicy, isn’t given enough setup to feel earned. The result is a movie that wants to evoke tragedy but hasn’t built the emotional foundation for it to hit.

Labake: Warrior, Strategist… Righteous? Not Quite

Iyabo Ojo plays Labake with intensity—a hardened warrior who leads with confidence and fearlessness. She commands a team of elite fighters, leads campaigns, and protects Lukosi’s supremacy among the kingdoms. However, her methods often raise eyebrows.

A major turning point is her deception against the neighbouring kingdom, Olugbon. Labake secretly engineers an attack on them while publicly blaming an “unknown enemy.” When Olugbon turns to Lukosi for help, she declines, allowing their fall. This strategy might be smart, but it’s far from righteous.

Which brings us to the title—Olododo, meaning “The Righteous One.” It’s a misfit. The film never gives the audience a reason to believe Labake is righteous. She is fierce, powerful, and strategic but manipulative, secretive, and self-serving. There’s no moment in the film where she makes a sacrifice or acts with moral clarity. The title doesn’t reflect the character.

Love and Betrayal: A Rush to the Heart

Her quick fall from grace lacks the internal conflict that would make her eventual choices more impactful. Instead of a gradual transformation, her surrender to love feels abrupt, undermining her character development. Labake, initially introduced as a stony, war-hardened leader, softens into love far too easily. Her emotional arc lacks the buildup to make her vulnerability believable. One moment, she’s commanding troops with ice in her veins; the next, she’s swooning under the stars, rethinking her existence over a man’s letter. This transition feels abrupt, unearned, and eazy.

Labake’s romantic arc with Jaiyeoba is problematic. The relationship feels forced and lacks emotional depth. Jaiyeoba’s pursuit of Labake comes off as shallow and implausible. His feelings evolve without context, and his boldness crosses the line from confidence into disrespect, undermining any romantic tension. Additionally, the advice given to Labake by Agbeke—who suggests that she change herself for Jaiyeoba—is problematic, as it frames power and individuality as things a woman should compromise for love. This, alongside Labake’s uncharacteristic decision to abandon her powers (the cowries in her hair, a symbol of her strength), presents a regressive message about womanhood and power dynamics in relationships.

When Labake lets go of her powers, the film treats it like a plot beat, not a turning point. There’s no tension, no second thoughts, no emotional resistance. What should feel like the moment she crosses a line instead plays like a casual choice. Her downfall feels less like tragedy and more like carelessness, not because of what she does, but because of how the film presents it. With little introspection and no real internal struggle.

Performances and Comic Relief

There’s no denying that Labake Olododo is a grand production. From the opening shots of war-prepped warriors to the sweeping visuals of Lukosi’s palace grounds, the film sets a tone of scale and significance. Iyabo Ojo plays Labake with stern resolve, surrounded by a cast that includes Femi Adebayo, Ibrahim Chatta, Afeez Oyetoro, Wumi Toriola, Yinka Quadri, Olumide Oworu, Femi Adebayo, Broda Shaggi, Cute Abiola, Kamo State, and Afeez Oyetoro.

Where casting falters is with the character of the school superintendent—a supposed British man who speaks with neither British nor American cadence. In a scene introducing Western education to Lukosi, the character is clearly intended to be British. But the actor—likely not a native English speaker—delivers lines in stiff, unnatural rhythm, lacking the accent and tone one would expect from a colonial-era British figure. It’s a jarring moment that pulls viewers out of the story. Given the cultural and historical weight that colonial education carries in Nigeria, this was a chance to reflect that influence seriously. Instead, it feels like a rushed casting decision.

The comic relief included felt unnecessary and detracted from the extremities of the stakes in the story.

Visual Storytelling and Cinematography

The film has moments of strength, particularly in the fight sequences, which are exhilarating and well-choreographed. However, the cinematography fails to consistently reinforce the narrative. There are moments where the editing is jarring, and the visual storytelling contradicts the dialogue. For example, when Labake is revealed to have orchestrated the deaths of Prince Adeeso and his father by Princess Adesewa, the montage showing Labake unveiling her face contradicts the narrative, presenting it as if Princess Adesewa witnessed it herself. Whereas it is Beyioku who fed the daughter the information. To make it worse, when Beyioku explains the attack, Labake is absent from the scene, further muddying the logic. This creates a disconnect between what the viewer sees and what is explained, undermining the impact of the revelation.

Additionally, the anachronistic choice of crochet hair for Labake and Iya Agba stands out as an unintended flaw. This choice clashes with the supposed time period, and its modern appearance detracts from the historical authenticity the film attempts to establish. The costume design, while functional, does not fully capture the period, further distancing the audience from the setting.

Final Thoughts: A Half-Ripe Epic

Labake Olododo offers an interesting premise but falters in its execution. The story of a female warrior navigating love, betrayal, and power in a patriarchal society is ripe with potential. But the film’s narrative structure and character development are hampered by inconsistent pacing and underdeveloped motivations. The romantic subplot feels forced, and the thematic exploration of power and righteousness is undermined by Labake’s lack of agency and internal conflict. Despite its potential, Labake Olododo leaves much to be desired in terms of both storytelling and character depth.

Verdict

Labake Olododo is a step in the right direction for Nollywood’s traditional epics. It has the bones of a great story: a strong central character, palace politics, love and betrayal, humour, action. Not new, but it undercuts itself with inconsistent pacing, unnecessary comic relief, an ill-fitting title, emotional shortcuts, and occasional sloppiness in execution.

Rating: 2.5/5