LADY‘s titular character discovers that survival in Lagos demands more than simply keeping her head down.
This is one in a series of film reviews from the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, focused on films by women, trans or nonbinary directors that tell compelling stories about the lives of women and girls.
The opening imagery of LADY, a haunting and emboldening Nigerian film written and directed by Olive Nwosu, sets the tone for the remainder of the film: An upside down shot—the line of sight of two girls hanging their heads out over the edge of a wooden pier—introduces us to a story in which point of view is everything. Turn over, and you might find the world you thought you knew on its head.
After this brief flashback, we’re taken into the present-day, where the eponymous Lady (Jessica Gabriel’s Ujah), a rare female cab driver in Lagos, ferries people through streets packed with vendors, pedestrians and often stand-still traffic. Early in the film, we’re also introduced to a dogged backdrop of politicized voices: the radical radio stylings of DJ Revolution and the parallel radio and television news broadcasts of rising fuel surcharges, poverty and growing unrest.
Lady, determined and opinionated, just wants to ignore politics; she changes the channel whenever she hears calls for revolt. She also tries to shut down the political chatter of the other, all-male cabbies, telling them they should be concerned about their own hustle. (They ignore her, uninterested in the thoughts of a “girl.”) Lady, undeterred, tries to go about her everyday life, driving all day and then coming home exhausted to the corrugated shed she calls home and caring for (and occasionally seeking comfort from) her grandmother who lives nearby. Secretly, Lady dreams of leaving Lagos for Freetown in Sierra Leone, but the cost of fuel and upkeep for her cab means she has barely any extra cash to squirrel away.
That is, until Lady’s childhood friend Pinky (Amanda Oruh) shows up on her doorstep one night. While they’d once proclaimed each other “best friends for life,” Pinky’s reappearance infuriates Lady, who resents her former friend’s five-year absence. What’s worse, Pinky asks Lady to drive her to a club, which turns out to be merely a pretext to deliver Lady to Pinky’s boss, a pimp who’s looking for a new driver to ferry his “girls” to parties after their former driver disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
Despite her misgivings, Lady can’t resist the promise of extra money, negotiating with a bravado that seems to surprise even her, for pay high enough that she’ll be able to raise the funds to leave for Freetown in a matter of weeks.
And yet, from her first drive with Pinky and her fellow sex workers, Lady’s discomfort is palpable. The other women try to engage her in banter, teasing and cajoling Lady about her unusual profession, especially the impetuous Sugar (Tinuade Jemiseye), who cannot seem to stop needling Lady and gets relentlessly under her skin.
Meanwhile, decolonialist rhetoric, plus news of food and fuel shortages, continues unabated all around Lady, whether she wants to hear it or not. But, as she becomes more and more entangled with Pinky, Sugar and the other women, Lady reluctantly forges with them a shaky bond—one that blurs the lines between her childhood traumas and fears, a lurking sense of danger that might be imagined or very real, and Lady’s own aspirations to leave everything behind and start fresh.
Winner of the 2026 Sundance World Cinema Dramatic Special Jury Award for Acting Ensemble, LADY is, according to the jury, “a film full of depth and texture and with a rhythm all its own, with an electric ensemble cast that brings life and humor and insight to a story about day-to-day challenges and finding safety in unexpected friendships.”
“Open your eyes,” DJ Revolution intones on the radio midway through the film. “No one is coming to save you.”
In the same way, as its opening shot alludes, LADY is a film about perspective—about choosing what we see and how we see it, as well as what we decide is important. It’s also a film that consciously balances discomfort with bravery, weaving a tale about a woman on the cusp of a sea change, uncertain whether or not she’s willing to be taken up by its current.
Great Job Aviva Dove-Viebahn & the Team @ Ms. Magazine for sharing this story.
