Imagine a whirlwind of vengeance that cuts across borders, blending high-octane thrills with the gritty underbelly of human trafficking—now that's the electrifying core of 3 Cold Dishes, a film that leaves you questioning just how sweet revenge can truly be.
Directed by the self-taught filmmaker Asurf Oluseyi and brought to life through the vision of rapper Burna Boy (whose music you can explore more at The Guardian's page on him), this Nollywood thriller injects a Tarantino-style flair into the bustling Abidjan-Lagos route. At its heart, it's a story driven by fierce women seeking payback after being ensnared by ruthless traffickers, kicking off as a flashy, multi-threaded saga punctuated by chapter titles that nod to Kill Bill's iconic yellow font. Sure, the early parts stumble with some convoluted plotting and uneven camera work, but this transnational adventure largely dazzles with its bold style, keeping viewers hooked on its edge-of-your-seat momentum.
The plot unfolds through the eyes of Janice (played by Amelie Mbaye), a former sex worker recounting to a reporter the saga of the trio she mentored back in 2002: the young Ivorian Fatouma (Fat Touré), who was duped into servitude by her pastor promising a soccer scholarship in Paris; Esosa (Osas Ighodaro) from Nigeria, betrayed by her uncle (the veteran Nollywood actor Wale Ojo) and covertly transported to Abidjan; and Giselle (Maud Guerard), a vulnerable girl susceptible to mystical trances, traded away by her grandmother to a powerful chief who brutally assaults her to set the tragedy in motion. Fast-forward 16 years after their exploiter dies during a police crackdown, and the three reemerge as daring bandits, armed with a network of dodgy contacts. They recruit Janice for their scheme: to snatch the original culprits who ruined their lives and serve up justice that's been chilling for years—like a dish that's best enjoyed cold, as the saying goes.
Leaping across three different timelines and told in a somewhat fragmented way, the narrative setup can feel tricky to piece together, with Oluseyi sometimes speeding through crucial moments. The main characters, too, often come across as stereotypes rather than fully fleshed-out individuals: Fatouma rises as a notorious aide to a crooked military leader, even getting her own Kill Bill-inspired animated sequence; Giselle experiences bizarre episodes where she's overtaken by a mystical spirit; and Esosa stands out as the sole English-speaker among them. Deeper character development could have allowed these women to transcend simple "going rogue" tropes, giving them more nuanced backstories—imagine, for instance, exploring how Fatouma's military ties reflect real-world struggles in African politics, or how Giselle's possessions draw from cultural folklore like West African juju traditions, making the story richer for newcomers to these themes.
But here's where it gets controversial—does this film's raw portrayal of female empowerment truly qualify as feminist, or is it just glorifying vigilante justice with a side of exploitation? Despite these shortcomings, the movie's dynamic cinematography powers through, buoyed by its intimate grasp of the shady dealings in border towns. It lingers delightfully on the sidelines, showcasing minor interactions—like hotel staff rallying to confront their fired boss—with a knowing, street-smart charm. While calling 3 Cold Dishes outright feminist might be a stretch, its climactic showdown—a moment polished with more dramatic finesse than much of the rest—carries a compelling sense of bleak futility. Paired with the film's multilingual energy and cross-border zest, it signals exciting possibilities for mainstream African cinema, perhaps inspiring more stories that tackle global issues like trafficking from fresh, empowering angles.
And this is the part most people miss—the subtle undercurrents of cultural identity and revenge that could spark heated debates: Is revenge ever truly justified, especially when it mirrors the violence inflicted on these women? Does the film's Nollywood roots make it more authentic or just another Hollywood-inspired knockoff? What do you think—does 3 Cold Dishes succeed in blending thrills with social commentary, or does it skirt too close to glorifying crime? Share your thoughts in the comments below; I'd love to hear if you agree it's a bold step forward or if it raises more questions than answers!
