Film Review: Lingua Franca at MQFF Interrupted
Director and star Isabel Sandoval in Lingua Franca.
An elderly woman named Olga(Lynn Cohen) sits at a table peeling an orange, when she suddenly rises up and looks around the kitchen, confusion across her face. She goes to the phone and calls the number stuck to the wall, her Filipina caregiver Olivia picks up.
Olivia (Isabel Sandoval) acts as a lifeline back to her memories, as she calmly instructs her into familiarity with her surroundings. Early into Lingua Franca, Olivia is established to be an attentive worker, whose family back in the Philippines depend on her for financial support as she forges a path to citizenship.
What follows in Lingua Franca is an emotive and nuanced profile of Olivia, and the struggles she faces as a trans woman and undocumented immigrant. The authenticity of the narrative is only further reinforced by the talent of its director and star, Isabel Sandoval, who is the first ever trans woman of colour to write and direct a feature film screened in competition at Venice Film Festival.
When Olivia’s green card arrangement falls through, there is trepidation in the complicated and tiring process of finding a third candidate. The introduction of Alex (Eamon Farren), Olga’s grandson, brings a charged and chaotic element into the household shared by his grandmother and Olivia.
It is frustrating for the audience to witness his inept attempts at helping with caregiving tasks, but Olivia’s gaze begins to endear his character. Alex and Olivia bond as he helps her pack a balikbayan box for her family (a package sent home to the Philippines from family living internationally, containing necessities and gifts). The relationship that grows between them satisfies Olivia’s desire for romantic connection. Their encounters are heady yet tender, artfully framed by cinematographer Isaac Bank.
As the focal relationship drama transpires, Sandoval’s narrative balances the exposure of Olivia’s emotional and personal life, with the careful observation of her identity. The film’s approach to social realism is tacit and expertly constructed throughout its duration, allowing for a delicate and perceptive style of storytelling.
Alex’s inability to express how he feels, or to process Olivia’s gender identity, leads him to gaslight Olivia and reinforce her fear of being exposed by ICE. This adds to the tone of anxiety fostered for Olivia’s situation, with the underlying anticipation of possible violence replaced by her psychological and emotional torture.
The film skilfully considers the socio-political context and detrimental structures in place for undocumented immigrants under Trump’s administration. Throughout the narrative Sandoval weaves in news and commentary on the threat of ICE, and the terrifying vulnerability of their targets. Olivia’s constant feeling of being hunted makes her anxiety palpable, and it’s simultaneously tempered and exacerbated by Alex’s misguided and toxic attention. It is made clear that Alex is mired in the cycle of failure and second chances, and it’s relieving for the audience that Olivia takes the opportunity to move through the experience of the relationship and regain her agency.
Lingua Franca sensitively exposes its protagonist’s fragility, identity, and strength. The romantic elements and drama is wholly absorbing as Sandoval offers characterisation which is authentic and realised. The film extends empathy to all characters involved while centring Olivia’s journey and personhood, showcasing Sandoval’s truly special talent as an actor-director.