September 18, 2026: There is a point in every anthology when the individual stories stop competing with each other and begin revealing what the film is really interested in. Lust Stories 3 reaches that point only intermittently.
The Netflix film carries the weight of a title that has already established its territory. After two earlier instalments, the idea of using lust as a doorway into complicated relationships is hardly unfamiliar. So the third film has a tougher job: it has to make desire feel like more than a convenient hook.
The results are a mixed bag, but there is enough variety here to keep the film from becoming repetitive.
What makes Lust Stories 3 interesting is that its characters are rarely chasing pleasure alone. They are looking for validation, excitement, escape, control or simply some acknowledgement of what is missing in their lives. Sex is often the surface; dissatisfaction is what sits underneath.
The opening story, directed by Vikramaditya Motwane, understands this particularly well. Konkona Sen Sharma and Radhika Apte play two married women whose seemingly ordinary holiday takes an unexpected turn after they become fascinated by the possibility of partner-swapping.
The premise could easily have become an exercise in predictable titillation. Instead, the film finds humour in the characters’ uncertainty. Their confidence keeps collapsing under the weight of reality, making the episode more of an absurd character comedy than a sensual drama.
Konkona plays Shonali with an amusing combination of confidence and chaos, while Radhika’s Padma is more guarded and suspicious. Their chemistry is what holds the story together. Vijay Varma and Abhishek Banerjee add to the awkwardness without turning the proceedings into broad farce.
The story is not especially deep, but it knows exactly what kind of entertainment it wants to provide. Kiran Rao’s segment moves in a completely different direction. Sana Thampi plays Lisa, a young woman whose connection with Karan, portrayed by Gurfateh Pirzada, develops around a rather unusual arrangement.
This is perhaps the most playful film in the anthology in terms of its setup. There is a slightly surreal quality to the characters and their circumstances, and Rao allows the story to exist in that unusual space for a while.
The trouble comes when the Lust Stories 3 film begins explaining itself. A story built around discovery needs some mystery, and once the audience has been given too many answers, the tension inevitably drops. Thampi nevertheless gives Lisa enough personality to make her more than just a plot device, while Pirzada brings an easy charm to Karan.
Lust Stories 3 Review: Desire Gets Four New Stories, With Mixed Results
The third story is where the anthology becomes more recognisable — and consequently less surprising. Ali Fazal and Radhikka Madan play Varun and Sailee, a married couple whose relationship has deteriorated to the point where even talking to each other seems like work. Their problem is not a lack of things to say. It is the inability to say them without reopening every old wound.
Shakun Batra approaches the marriage with the kind of polished emotional drama that has become familiar in contemporary urban relationship films. There are clever observations here, but the dialogue sometimes feels too carefully written for people who are supposed to be in the middle of a messy marital breakdown.
Ali Fazal, however, brings an edge to Varun that gradually makes the character more compelling. He plays a man trapped between resentment and attachment, and the contradiction gives the performance its weight.
Then comes the film’s most distinctive chapter, and perhaps the one that most clearly expands the meaning of its title. Vishal Bhardwaj takes the story to Hyderabad in the late 1980s, where Aditi Rao Hydari plays Saira, a lecturer whose relationship with literature has opened doors in her imagination that her marriage has left firmly closed.
Her husband Badru, played by Siddharth, is not presented as a conventional oppressive spouse. That makes the conflict more interesting. He can be caring, respectable and well-intentioned while still failing to understand what his wife actually wants.
Saira’s desire is therefore not treated simply as physical frustration. It becomes a question of agency. What happens when a woman knows what she wants but lives in a social environment that expects her to remain satisfied with whatever she has been given?
Aditi Rao Hydari gives the strongest performance in the film. There is a quiet intensity to her portrayal, particularly in the scenes where Saira’s thoughts remain unspoken. Bhardwaj also gives the episode a visual identity that separates it from the contemporary portions of the anthology. The Hyderabad setting, Urdu influences and literary references create a world that feels romantic without becoming entirely nostalgic.
The story does become more obvious towards its conclusion, spelling out emotions that could have been left to the actors. But even with that weakness, it has more thematic weight than the other chapters.
And that perhaps explains the strange experience of watching Lust Stories 3. The film begins with the expectation of erotic drama but repeatedly discovers that its more interesting material lies elsewhere.
The funniest moments are about people behaving badly because they want something. The more dramatic moments are about people staying in relationships after the reasons for staying have disappeared. And the most affecting story is ultimately about a woman realising that wanting more from marriage does not make her unreasonable.
There is little here that feels genuinely shocking anymore. But shock was never going to be enough for a third instalment. The more useful question is whether these stories can make desire feel human rather than merely provocative.
Sometimes they do. Sometimes they explain the joke, the twist or the emotion long after the audience has already understood it. That leaves Lust Stories 3 as an anthology with flashes of wit, some strong performances and one particularly memorable period drama, but also a sense that the franchise is beginning to circle familiar ideas.
Perhaps the irony is that a series built around lust is now most interesting when it talks about everything except lust — loneliness, imagination, marriage, compromise and the uncomfortable business of admitting that what you have may not be what you want.
