Movie Review: Everything Wrong With Adire

Adire, released in 2023, is a Nigerian film directed by Adeoluwa Owu and written by Jack’enneth Opukeme, Stephen Oluboyo, and Mimi Bartels. Featuring a stellar cast which includes Kehinde Bankole as Adire, Funlola Aofiyebi-Raimi as Deaconess Folashade, Femi Branch as Pastor Mide, and Yemi Blaq as Captain. I came across Adire while searching for something lighthearted to watch. As a fan of women-centered and Yoruba films, I decided to give it a try. What I expected was a compelling story of reinvention and female empowerment. What I got instead was a film that, despite its promising setup, ultimately reinforces the same patriarchal structures it claims to challenge.

The Film’s Conflicted Stance on Sex Work

The story follows Asari, later known as Adire, a sex worker who escapes her controlling pimp to start anew in a small Oyo town. Though she appears determined to take charge of her future, the film undermines her agency at crucial moments leaving her motivations unclear.

Things take a confusing turn when Adire begins frequenting a club in this new village. At first, I thought, Oh, a Yoruba character who is actually proud of and wants to do sex work just without a pimp? Sign me up!

Till this one particularly frustrating scene, Adire meets a grieving man who, rather than seeking comfort from his male friend standing right beside him, chooses to offload his emotions on her. When she assumes he is soliciting her services, he lashes out, shaming her for her line of work, despite being the one who approached her in the first place. This moment is infuriating not only because of his misplaced anger but because the film frames his outburst as justified. Adire, who had previously displayed confidence, suddenly wilts under his judgment, making the scene feel forced and inconsistent with her character.

If the film intended to explore the complexities of trauma or internalized shame, it fails to do so, offering little introspection into her emotional journey. Worse still, this entire conflict is resolved when the man later apologizes by bringing her suya because, apparently, grilled meat is all it takes to erase such humiliation.

The Problematic Handling of Infidelity

Another of the film’s weakest points is its handling of infidelity. When the church women gather to discuss their unfaithful husbands, the conversation takes a disappointing turn , rather than holding the men accountable or challenging the societal norms that enable their behavior, the focus shifts to how the wives should “fix” themselves. At the center of this misplaced blame is Deaconess Folashade, the most influential woman in the group, who directs all her anger at Adire instead of the unfaithful men.

The situation escalates to an almost comical level when Salewa, one of the scorned wives, confronts Adire, only for the two to unexpectedly bond and become best friends after realizing her husband is just a “funny” man. Rather than demanding accountability, Salewa nostalgically recalls happier times, as if his cheating was just a minor inconvenience. Adire, offers a solution: lingerie. As this is a film that avoids real conflict, the plan works. The men suddenly become “responsible,” and the bras earn the nickname Miracle Bras. Soon, all the church women want one, completely glossing over the fact that the men never had to change, only the women did.

Lingerie as Liberation?

What could have been a compelling subplot about economic independence through Adire’s lingerie business is ultimately reduced to a tool for keeping men satisfied. Rather than using her craft as a means of asserting autonomy, the film frames it as a way to cater to male desires. Adire doesn’t actively pursue or promote her lingerie business until her interaction with Salewa, reinforcing the implicit message that women’s reinvention should be for men’s benefit rather than their own empowerment.

Beyond Adire’s individual journey, the film fails to address the need for systemic change. While she eventually gains acceptance within the village and the church, and her business flourishes, nothing fundamentally shifts. The men remain unchallenged, the women’s perspectives remain unchanged, and the cycle of patriarchal complacency continues.

The film presents this as a resolution, as though individual success can replace collective liberation. It never circles back to the root of the problem of the unfaithful husbands because it is too eager to wrap things up neatly rather than confront uncomfortable truths.

The Love Story That Wasn’t Needed

As if all of this weren’t enough, the film also forces a love story between Adire and the same man who shamed her earlier. It follows the tired trope that a woman cannot truly be free until a man “redeems” her with his love. This choice undermines everything Adire could have been. Rather than asserting her independence, she is “saved” through romantic validation. The film subtly suggests that she can only leave sex work when a man deems her worthy of something more. This is both insulting and regressive, reducing Adire’s journey to a predictable conclusion.

The Bigger Picture

The failure of Adire lies not just in its weak storytelling but in its reluctance to engage with the structural issues it presents. Sex work, infidelity, societal hypocrisy; only to resolve them with simplistic solutions that maintain the status quo, reducing its protagonist’s struggles to a predictable arc centered on romance rather than true empowerment.

If Nollywood wants to tell stories about strong, independent women, it must go beyond placing them at the center of the narrative. True empowerment isn’t about earning acceptance within a flawed system but about questioning and dismantling it. Adire had the potential to do so but ultimately chose comfort over confrontation.