What Wingonia Ikpi’s First Feature Project Reveals about First Time Filmmaking in Nollywood.

Wingonia Ikpi’s directorial feature-length debut film The Lost Days is one of the twelve films made from The First Features Project, an initiative spearheaded by Native Filmworks and Michelangelo Productions, driven by Steve Gukas and Dotun Olakunri. The First Feature Project which was kickstarted in  the panic-driven world in November 2020, was an  effort to address the hitherto paucity of mentorship programmes in the Nigerian film industry. The mission was to “nurture the emerging talents and empower them to become the future trailblazers of the Nigerian film industry.” This noble idea was trying to solve one of Nollywood’s decades-long industry issues: the absence of mentorship programs for emerging filmmakers. After announcing a call, an overwhelming number of applications flooded in and the team had to trim them to twelve selected fellows. 

Ikpi, the director of The Lost Days, is one of the selected twelve. The films of other selected fellows had quietly arrived on Prime Video and with menial fanfare at Nigerian cinemas. These films, in their distinct style and tone, show the guided and art-driven consciousness of a budding Nigerian filmmaker learning to tell, write and direct stories in a language they are comfortable with. And Ikpi’s The Lost Day carries that consciousness in minimal doses. Akin to Courage Obayuana’s Kill Boro that’s a personal and timidly political interrogation of the militant situation in Niger Delta, to Korede Azeez’s It Blooms in June  diving  into the question of fatherhood and commitment beyond finances, and in Ikpi’s cinematic output, a mediation on lost time and reclaiming it. Other films in the slate, Love and Life, Cake, A Father’s Love, At Ease, A Danfo Christmas, and Katangari Goes To Town follow different paths. 

A concise story, central to the script written by Abdul TJ and Paul S. Rowlston is Chisom (Ifeoma Fafunwa) who after surviving a life-threatening health issue decides to reclaim the unlived moments, joys, sadness, and life she has missed out from by bowing to the dictate of society and culture decades ago. Chisom’s teenage relationship with Kola (the powerfully quiet Bimbo Manuel) ended decades ago due to tribal differences. Now, unpressured by what their parents’ or society project, Chisom is eager to reclaim lost times and Kola is skeptical of what it means. The Lost Days is the not-too-common story of an older African woman, told in a way that timidly embraces the cultural and geographical details of Nigerian society. It’s a film with beautiful progression, easy-to-stomach exposition and connected subplots until it decides against itself. Thus, what should end up being a movie that consciously sneaks up on you and sticks with you becomes frail due to its interest in introducing supposed high-octane drama and twists. 

Fafunwa and Manuel’s complimentary performances ground the film’s easy-going and tense moments. From their first encounter after decades apart, Fafunwa’s performance wears a careless carriage of a woman living life according to her personal and moral compass. The choices she makes and words uttered are indicative of her disapproval of the teenage fear that must have monopolised her decades ago. Manuel, as Kola, moves with frailed certainty. The resignation in his voice, the reluctance in his words and the questions he never asked and articulated, are indicative of a man who has spent years dreading this moment happening. And when the moment finally arrived, he became mute. Still on performance, Durotimi Okutagidi, who plays Kola’s trouble-prone child, wears the garment of the child uncomfortable with his widowed parent’s quest for intimacy. He reveals this with the disgruntled movements, judgemental and disapproving words. When outside, he reluctantly acknowledges their relationship even with Tawa (Onuoha Aderonke), his girlfriend and friends. 

Ikpi’s directing, the art directing team and cinematographer Mike Downie conjure up dreams and drama with equal ease and effectiveness in the film. Chisom and Kola often appear wearing similar or complimentary clothing. Aside from the visual beauty it adds to this steadily-unfolding drama, it visually and metaphorically communicates a sense of romantic and physical longing. The set design and art direction in Kola’s house poses a question: Is Kola stuck in the past? The writing and directorial choices have reiterated Kola’s reluctance and explores his unexpressed longing for Chisom, but it’s his 80s-prone house and set pieces that firmly articulates his longing for what he must have felt for Chisom. The script doesn’t commit to showing images of Kola’s lifelong longing for Chisom but the careful directing, consciously placed set pieces and Manuel’s performance carries the residue of that undying longing. 

This directorial choice is important in justifying Kola’s commitment to Chisom and Chisom’s unstable and uncertain commitment. While, the script touted and teased that she’s trying to fill this hollowness in her life, Kola isn’t particularly what she feels lost. It’s Moses (Baaj Adebule), their child, she misses. It doesn’t appear she missed out on anything significant. This begs the questions: would Chisom have returned to Kola if Moses wasn’t in the picture? Is her return to Kola prompted out of love and deep longing? These are issues and questions the twist-obsessed film fails to considerably mediate upon. 

The Lost Days is the ninth film that has been released from the twelve slate of films the First Feature Project promised. And, as seen with Ikpi’s works and the other filmmakers from the initiative, the place of mentorship and guided filmmaking is important in shaping the next phase of artistically conscious and passionate Nigerian mainstream filmmakers. While the films are with their own inherent flaws, Ikpi’s film and others are indicative of filmmakers learning to tell their story, not audience-approved or industry-approved ones. And, that’s the important strength of The Lost Days unmindful of its identified limitations.