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Lola Igna
English Translation: Grandma Igna
Year of Release: 2019
Director: Eduardo W. Roy Jr.
Screenwriters: Eduardo W. Roy Jr. & Margarette Labrador Garcia
Producers: Film Development Council of the Philippines, Hong Kong Asia Film Financing Forum, EMBA Productions
Cast: Angie Ferro, Yves Flores, Meryll Soriano, Maria Isabel Lopez, Royce Cabrera, Jojo Riguerra, Soliman Cruz, Armando A. Reyes, Peewee O’Hara, Joel Saracho, Rener Concepcion, Conching Ani, Shantel Ruiz Galang, Gemma Amacaha, Sarah Pagcaliwagan, Chamyto Aguedan, Star Orjaliza, Jilla Sara, Sang Pascual, Robert Manalo, Hernand Timoteo Tulud, Rodel Pamarez, Jayson de Guzman Gonzales, Regie Delaluna
With all her contemporaries gone, Lola Igna converses with her memory of them, impatient to end her existence and exasperating her daughter Nida. Her small town is excited by the news that she might be proclaimed the oldest woman in the world, with Nida claiming exclusive rights to sell merchandise based on this possibility. A small group of followers call for her to awaken from her siesta and greet them, but she hurls a container of her piss at them. Tim, a young teener, walks up to her and introduces himself as the son of her estranged daughter, Ana. He accompanies Lola Igna on her rounds but after she sees an image of her late husband and converses with one of the kids that she delivered as a midwife, who dies soon after, she decides to ask Tim to prepare her coffin. When the result of the oldest-person contest doesn’t favor her, she’s relieved to be rid of the crowd around her house. But then Ana, who broke up with the man who made Tim run away, shows up, heavy with child.
Alter-indie enthusiasts will find a possibly dismaying anomaly in Lola Igna, which may be expected of them but comprises no one’s loss but theirs. The material adheres to old-time realist melodrama, reliant on nonmainstream funding only because it won’t fulfill contemporary expectations of blockbuster cinema. But a closer look will reveal the mechanics of why it succeeds on its own terms. The narrative material is constructed on the persona of Angie Ferro, who was at the age when accomplishing any task or gesture requires considerable patience on the part of any observer. What makes the treat exceptional is that, unlike most serious performers, Ferro never aspired to a level of finesse and dignity. Her delivery was always broad, until straight-talking directors advised her to perform for the intimacy of a camera rather than for the apprehension of an auditorium. She never became defensive about her urinary incontinence, which resulted in a passel of amused anecdotes among her fellow stage performers—in fact, her opening sequence in LI consists of emptying her bladder in a chamber pot that her character maintains for her personal convenience. Most impressively, she foregrounded all the physical vexations of aging, from tooth gaps to osteoporotic posture, and leaned into the now-disciplined theatricality that results in a captivating screen presence. Anita Linda, Rustica Carpio, and an aged-for-her-age Nora Aunor demonstrated how worn-out bodies can be bearers of more significance that younger performers can only dream of conveying, but Ferro trumped them with an honesty and humor that did not deny the infirmity of old age but refused to surrender to its mortal implications either. The surest measure of her achievement lies in how the movie’s plot developments no longer have to depend on novelty or unpredictability: whether or not a forthcoming episode can be anticipated, the reward will be contained in Ferro’s response, and she never disappoints in being raw, funny, and ironically youthful.
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