Hamza Ali Abbasi, of Pyare Afzal fame, is one of the finest actors of our entertainment industry. Or so I thought. Of late, he has ceased to have the same ‘pyare’ charms that he had on his fans some time back. I, for one, have been extremely disappointed in him. Recently, he took to social media to express some very strong opinions, or diva fits as I like calling them. At one point, he appreciated Zhalay Sarhadi for not exposing herself in an item song and at another, he resigned from his position as cultural secretary of Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) – a party he supports ambitiously – because he did a movie that was against his own beliefs and therefore he could not continue his role in PTI. If you find the above mentioned description absurd, you are not alone. In this Facebook post, Abbasi made it seem like somebody had forced him to do this movie and he is now either embarrassed for it or just does not want be called a hypocrite for his contradicting views. Either he is thoroughly confused about what he wants from life or is using cheap tactics at publicity to remain in the limelight right before the release of his movie. If a movie is against his ‘religious or moral beliefs’, then why agree to do it in the first place? He shot the entire film and now, right before its promotional campaign, he expects everyone to understand that it was against what he stands for and he is ashamed of it? Such views are childish, if not utterly idiotic. In my opinion, it was never about the movie. Perhaps, he left PTI because he no longer wanted to be a part of it and this was just an excuse to escape Naya Pakistan’s downfall. Whatever the reasons might be, what annoys me the most is the fact that Abbasi acts like the moral police of our industry, but refuses to comment upon his own glaring flaws. He has to comment on every movie, every song that comes out; he questions the morality of his fellow actors and actresses, then clarifies his statements by claiming he has nothing against them personally. And in his act of commenting against actresses taking part in item songs, he exposes his own vile views. It is evident that Abbasi has no moral ground to judge the actions of others when he himself is part of the ‘negative trend of the media’. Mudslinging is very convenient Mr Abbasi, but you cannot escape the consequences of your own actions. In another rant on social media, he is said to have  shown his disdain for actresses ‘revealing’ themselves in item numbers. On the same hand, however, he is seen, in the trailer of Jawani Phir Nahi Aani, walking out of a pool, revealing most of his own body. So it is okay for a man to play a role in which he exposes his body walking out of a pool in a chaddi but a woman in a bikini? Hai Allah! If this does not reek of sexism, I don’t know what does. Might I add, he is not only seen emerging from the pool, he is seen ogling at a woman in... wait for it... a bikini! [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2lb5hy_new-folder-jawani-phir-nahi-aani-official-trailer-hd_shortfilms[/embed] Whether he believes it or not, the way he mentions ‘women in bikinis’ in his status sounds derogatory. No one has to twist his comments to make them sound like they are ‘against an individual’ because they aren’t just against that one individual they are against an entire gender! Would he describe a male co-worker in the same way? I think not. If what these female actors do mortifies you to this existent, why work with them, Mr Abbasi? Why not just boycott the entertainment industry altogether? You clearly hate so much of it anyway. I understand that there may be issues with our entertainment industry and we are still trying to find our roots and develop our own personality, but if you can’t be a part of the solution, do not be a part of the problem. In Abbasi’s case he is part of the problem, and in denial of it. Go into direction – make classy movies. I don’t remember there being a roadblock. In fact he has already tested the waters as a director. It’s simple really – be the change or shut up! Correction: In an earlier version of this blog, it was incorrectly mentioned that Hamza Ali Abbasi had claimed to asking his directors to get him to come out of the pool instead of a women in a bikini. That claim is false and the error is regretted. It has now been rectified. Our apologies for the inconvenience. 

Pakistani cinema is on the verge of revival as more and more talented directors and film-makers prove their mettle in the field. Asim Raza’s debut project, Ho Mann Jahaan is one such movie we should keep an eye out for. Currently in the making, unlike many other movies in Lollywood, this film does not focus on politics. Based on the relationship dynamics between three friends, it is going to be the perfect epitome of an entertaining yet meaningful Lollywood flick. [fbvideo link="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=1589278938018907&set=vb.1504206416526160&type=2&theater"][/fbvideo] I got the chance to meet the cast and crew of this much-awaited movie and tried my best to get as much information as possible. Here is what I found out: 1. 90% of the shooting has been completed, that too in a span of only 50 days. [fbvideo link="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=1565261260420675&theater"][/fbvideo] 2. Mahira Khan, Sheheryar Munawar and Adeel Hussain are the lead actors of the movie. While they have done projects together, this will be the first time all three actors work alongside one another in a project.  [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 3. Asim Raza is famous for producing some amazing ad campaigns and music videos. [fbvideo link="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=1562761780670623&theater"][/fbvideo] 4. This is not a musical but music is the main theme of the story. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="596"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 5. Adeel Hussain plays the character of Nadir, a dutiful son of rich parents. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 6. Sheheryar Munawar plays the character of Arhaan who belongs to a lower middle class family and wants to pursue music as his career. Sheheryar is also co-producing the film.  [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 7. Mahira Khan plays the role of Manizeh who is brought up in a liberal family. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 8. The movie is shot in Karachi. Some of the scenes are shot at Frere Hall and IBA. 9. There are nine songs in the movie. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 10. The movie also features Bushra Ansari, Sonia Jahan, Nimra Bucha and Arshad Mehmud. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 11. This movie is expected to release on Eidul Azha. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 12. The music was produced by old and new talent of our music industry including some famous names like Atif Aslam, Tina Sani, Abu Mohammad, Asrar, Faakhir, Jimmy Khan, Zeb and Haniya. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 13. Mahira’s costumes were designed by Feeha Jamshed and Umar Sayeed. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="596"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 14. Male costumes were designed by Ismail Fareed. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 15. Bushra Ansari plays most pranks on the sets. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Ho Mann Jahaan Facebook page[/caption] 16. You will see Adeel Hussain dancing in the movie. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="597"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] This post originally appeared here. 

Pakistani cinema is emerging at a very unique point in our cultural history. Hollywood is knocking at our neighbour’s door to the east as Bollywood sets its eye on the 500 crore club. On our Western front, Iran has become a globally recognised force in neo realist filmmaking, yet people get jailed there for dancing to a particular song. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x137fwc_moor-2014-trailer-1-the-pakistani-movie_shortfilms[/embed] Afghanistan remains to be the centre of attention with a complicated set of woes and a new administration in place, and China is slowly becoming one of the biggest film markets in the world. In the middle of this hue and cry lies Pakistan and its cinema industry’s struggle to evolve into something better than Lollywood. That’s where Moor comes in. Here are six reasons to embrace Moor and why it sets the bar high for future Pakistani productions: 1. A genuine Pakistani film [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Moor official Facebook page[/caption] Though there is nothing wrong with carrying on the song-dance-romance formula of Lollywood and with that more people will be attracted towards cinemas, but then your identity will not be anything more than an extension of Bollywood, a prime example of this is Na Maloom Afraad. On the opposite side of Na Maloom Afraad and Nabeel Qureshi are Jami Mahmood and his outstanding film, Moor. Without relying on any conventions or ‘formula’, he offers a story that is truly a product of our times and geography, without compromising on cinematic experience. 2. Possibly the last film on Balochistan [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Moor official Facebook page[/caption] I don’t actually know whether Balochistan has previously been featured on the big screen or not, but one thing’s for sure, it will not happen again. Moor is possibly your only window into the highlands of Balochistan and the only major portrayal of its people’s loyalty towards their soil and principles. Celebrated Pakistani photographer Kohi Marri once said,

“Such is the beauty of the landscape of Balochistan that we can shoot an entire Lord of the Rings here.”

September 1^st marks the birth centenary of Rajinder Singh Bedi, one of the most gifted and greatest fiction writers of the 20^th century, completing the quartet whose membership also extends to Saadat Hasan Manto, Krishan Chander, and Ismat Chughtai. Bedi was a son of Punjab, born in Lahore. While his output was not as prodigious as his three aforementioned contemporaries, his stories are memorable, chastising ancient beliefs and superstitions which keep the ordinary person ignorant and the women oppressed. He was not a doctrinaire blinded by ideology as many of his contemporaries were, but rather than giving us the heady slogans of revolution, he preferred to lay bare the oppression and its symptoms, and how they affect men and women psychologically, drawing out their hopes and fears and making them a part of himself as well as those of his readers, as they move from one feeling to another. Some of the most memorable characters from Bedi’s stories are women – Indu from ‘Apnay Dukh Mujhay Day Do’ (Give Me Your Sorrows), Munni from ‘Lambi Larki’ (Tall Girl), the eponymous Lajwanti and Jogia, and Rano from Bedi’s only novel, Aik Chadar Maili Si (A Sheet So Dirty). Bedi was also successful in the film world; his interventions in that department were more long-lasting than those of Manto, Chander and Chugtai. When he shifted to Bombay, he flourished in the film industry and in his 35 years spent there, he wrote screenplays, scenes, and dialogues of around 17 movies, including directing some of them. Almost all of these films proved to be high-quality, quaint, and memorable, however, never proving to be box-office hits. I was reminded of the essay below, which I have translated from the Urdu original for the first time, while ruminating over the recent spate of Pakistani films released in the last few months – Jalaibee, Wrong No., Bin Roye, Karachi se Lahore, Moor, Shah and the most anticipated one to be released next week, Sarmad Khoosat’s biopic on Manto. Despite being written a few decades ago from Bedi’s long experience as the ‘father of Indian parallel cinema’, many of the challenges it describes still exist in Bollywood and Lollywood, though more acute in the latter. Whether Pakistan’s recent wave of film-making is a new wave (a start to a truly revolutionary way of film-making like in Iran) or a tidal wave (wrecking everything in its wake) will be determined by how successfully our new film-makers negotiate these challenges. This piece is presented in the hope that it will not only rehabilitate Bedi’s reputation on the occasion of his birth centenary, as not just writer of bitter, often hopeless realities of life in his fiction, but also sublime humour, especially to those new to Bedi’s prose, and also give both film-makers and their audiences in Pakistan some points to ponder.

Although film is child’s play but to make one is not. From the intent to the blueprint up until the film-making, there are hurdles that even a man with a big heart and kidneys will not be able to manage and most probably give out under pressure. A social film is not different from other films, but it is more difficult because it entails greater responsibility. Our society is a bit different with its several religions, races, provinces, languages, dialects, etc. The democratic system has given basic rights to everyone on an individual basis and equal rights on a collective basis. This is not to say that I am against these rights, but the important thing is that my brothers still do not know how to use these rights on an individual and collective basis. I remember when I wrote the film Mirza Ghalib, our first and last motive was that Ghalib’s poetry should be heard in every corner of the land and people should be introduced to his thoughts and the greatness of his poetry. The story is just a ruse with the help of which you write down the reflections of the society of that age. Therefore, Bahadur Shah Zafar says, “Neither a voice rose nor a tear shed. The rule of the Emperor of India was reduced to the bank of the Jamuna.” The Mughal period was ending and British imperialism was gradually spreading its claws. How saddening that when Mirza Sahib arrives at his beloved’s place after his release from prison and knocks at the door, there is no response. At that moment, in a plain but painful sentence, he sums up the whole map of the period, “Hey where are you, dilliwalo (people of Delhi)? Have you taken to sleeping during the day now?” But even then, some people wondered why was Mirza Sahib’s love life was presented as if he was not human and he had no heart. What a heart he had, one finds out by reading his letters. The mention of historical films is a mere obligation, because in reality they do have more than one social angle. But what does one do about the fact that with it there is also the indication of some purpose. For example, it is not easy to make a film about Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The opinion of two historians regarding the reality will not concur, then that purpose will not let the individual angle of his life onto the film screen. You will have to obtain clearance from many institutions and when you obtain clearance, the form of the script will have changed completely, so much so that you will be unable to recognise even your own face. A conversation will also take place, one which resembles the following dialogues –you are very nice, I am also very nice, health is wealth, etc. and if you go against their suspicions, entrenchments will be made, your life would be in danger and you will not be able to go out of the house. It is better if you do not make a film about Zebunissa, because she was Emperor Aurangzeb’s daughter and therefore like Julius Caesar’s wife, above all suspicion and doubt. Her love for Akil Khan, the Governor of Multan will not only be treated suspiciously, but its health, I mean, the health of the tale will be deemed absurd. Why go far? Recently, Satyajit Ray, whom the world acknowledges as a great director, made a film which showed a nurse who took to prostitution at night, forced by her domestic circumstances. Now that was an individual matter which had nothing to do with professional nurses as a whole. But chaos ensued upon this. The nurses started a movement and Mr Ray had to apologise to them. I ask, isn’t it a strange thing that on one hand people demonstrate against films like Mirza Ghalib and Sanskar and on the other hand, the Indian government declares them the best films of the year. The president himself presents the makers with the swarn padak (gold medal) and the Maan Patra. The conditions in the country present extremely difficult hurdles in making a social film at home. Leaving aside different groups, nations, and purpose, the government itself is not innocent of this sin. For example, the official government policy is ahinsa (non-injury and non-violence). But what should be done about the fact that we have accepted the numerous who used hinsa (injury and harm) as our leaders, bowed our heads before them and sung wedding songs praising it. I present you with the example of Shaheed Bhagat Singh, who was the first and last revolutionary. He was a socialist at heart and his ideology was that it was impossible to overthrow British imperialism without the use of force. Now if you make a film about him, then on one hand, you will have to indicate hidden sexual relations by having his comrade Bhagwati Charan Vohra’s wife being repeatedly called bhabhi, and on the other hand, either leave out the incident of them throwing a bomb in the assembly or narrate it in such a way that they merely wanted to startle the imperialists. At that moment, an internal contradiction will be born. Did they also kill superintendent of police Saunders in Lahore in order to startle the British? If you show these events as they actually happened, you will be the target of all sorts of attacks, because there are various groups in the country which believe in the gun and the bullet and the government’s policy is that it cannot tolerate even an explosion, otherwise what will happen to the hundreds of thousands of young men who create an uproar in the university campus day and night? It will be like teasing history if we say that India got independence due to ahinsa. The sailors of the Royal Navy also had a hand in it, they fought the battle for Indian independence under the pretext of provision of substandard food and maltreatment, opposed the British and were martyred by the latter’s bullets in the streets of Bombay. After the 20^th year of the Jallianwala Bagh incident, Udham Singh reached London and shot Michael O’Dwyer and avenged our national humiliation. But you cannot show this social and historical truth without facing any trouble. This is because we have Commonwealth relations with Britain, which we cannot spoil, keeping in mind the present international conditions. We cannot stare truth in the eye. We are faced with a myriad of problems at every step while making a social film. If you are making a film on national unity, you will not have the courage to present the events at Ranchi, Bhiwandi and Maligaon in their true form, because they involved savage cruelty perpetrated by people of one faith or nation. When you show Hindu-Muslim riots, it is important for you to show the killing of two Muslims where two Hindus have been killed. But neither the Hindus nor the Muslims will be satisfied with this. Both will be unhappy with you and as a result, you will have trouble in obtaining a censor certificate. You also cannot tap the present agitation of the students. You cannot try to tap into their squabbles and opposition. Whatever that is happening on university campuses today, what exactly is it? Is it that the youth of today has lost its head, have they become sanyasis (Hindu religious mendicant) by renouncing their real purpose or are they the victims of the shenanigans of different political parties? What is the reason for this beating and bruising? They too acknowledge Gandhi ji. Then why do these people suddenly turn to fight so willingly? To go into the depth of these matters and make a film about them is not only difficult but impossible. If you do this, then the feet of thousands of people will land on your own feet and these are the people who have powerful connections. Therefore, you should only talk about the well-rounded daal (lentils). Include five or six songs, two to four dances, have the mother, father, sons and daughters separated from each other since childhood, so that the elder brother can become a police inspector when he grows up, present his younger brother as a criminal in court out of ignorance and later it becomes known that the judge was the father of these two brothers and the mother who was giving evidence against the son, was his wife. Then it will become difficult for the father and a headache for the mother. If you make a film about the youth, just focus on love between the elders as being real love and the love of the youth being equally shameful and an evil deed. Don’t write it as the proper various pursuits between Shri Madhba Gawat, his wife, and other males. It is enough that they already faced some difficulties. The elders have no time. They don’t consider them political or accept them as leaders, and if they do, they try to change it around with their own opposite meanings. Now come to that notorious word ‘sex’. Our society can bear that a boy and girl, while dancing around a tree or in a car, commit cheap and immoral acts, but cannot tolerate it in the garden, which is the first gift given by a lover to his beloved. We take three to four reels in our films just to prove that Raju loved Radha, but the psychological point which could be proved in a few seconds, it seems the whole society is against it, our society does not give permission for it. The inheritors of Khajuraho and Konark say this repeatedly. The real purpose was to present this act in a discrete manner and film, which is also art to a certain extent, should let go of commercial and professionals hands. But what generally happens is that big film-makers do not have equal permission to film a few scenes. This way, the censor board has given some space for every film and the events happening in it to be seen through the eyes of the filmmaker and the true nature of the event. But this doesn’t happen in reality. If we accept for a moment that the custodians of censorship are people with hearts, what is to be done about those who first see the film themselves in order to pass the film at the public level, and whose literary taste requires reflection and who repeatedly claim ‘I neither write films, nor watch them’. For example, I make a film whose central idea is that a child should be given sex education as soon as he becomes an adult and he should be apprised of all those dangers which can take place later on in life. If my point is clear and I do not blunder in presenting the case of a boy and girl, of course there will be no drama, but if I somehow commit a blunder, then I will have to present a solution which is popular and not one which is psychological. Recently, I was making a film which was psychological. What happens is that a woman’s husband runs away, abandoning his house because of another girl. After his departure, a girl is born to that woman. She marries upon growing up, but the mother attaches herself to her daughter in such a way as to make breathing for the son-in-law difficult. A day comes when she sees her daughter and son-in-law in each other’s arms and for a moment, projects herself in place of her daughter. Man often thinks about things which are unacceptable from a social and moral ideology, but the truth is that he does understand, no matter how much he may consider himself to be a sinner afterwards. That is why it happens like this. The mother-in-law does stop for a moment, but moves back, startled and overflowing with feelings of guilt, goes to the temple and begins chanting the bhajan (prayer), “Mine is only Girdhar Gopal (Lord Krishna/God) and no one else.” I had just filmed this scene and my heroine objected to it, “How can this happen?” I said, “It happens Madame.” And then, when I proved my point, she leaves the set, embarrassed by the passion of being a sinner. She did end up doing that scene, but kept thinking she will be flogged by the public over it. I told her to send over the shoes flung at her to me since my own shoes are rather worn out. The maker of social films is like a woman who attended a party in a gharara and upon her return, it begins to rain heavily and consequently water is accumulated right in front of her house. Her man puts bricks and slabs on the way just like Sir Walter Raleigh, and she walks carefully while handling her gharara. But how could she know that one particular brick had been placed in a bent position. She falls down into the water, while handling the gharara. Caution sank her. Oh no. There are great obstacles in making a social film. You are naked from all four corners. That’s not all, to top it off, there is no skin on your body and you have to pass through a salt mine. One can’t imagine under what circumstances social films are made. We are fully free in name only, but the stages one encounters afterwards, the situation reminds me of a couplet by Majaz, “Such are the boundaries the guardians of the harem have drawn That I cannot send my message without being a prisoner born.”

Nepotism has a new face in Pakistan. Can you guess who it is? No, it’s not Nawaz Sharif. It’s not the Bhutto clan. It’s not the politicians or the bureaucracy. All those institutions have been swept aside by that new lady in town. We fondly call her ‘Lollywood’, but she’s more formally known as Pakistan’s film industry. She isn’t really new, but her recently acquired contemporary ornaments have taken years off her face. She wears Bol around her neck, carries Bin Roye under her arm and has crowned her head with Waar. In step with her is her entourage; a horde of uncles and aunties, brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces. Pakistan’s film industry is flourishing rapidly and the credit essentially goes to the directors and producers who resuscitated it and brought it back from the gallows before a death sentence could have sealed its fate. It is as if they have taken a silent vow to carry the burden of the entire industry themselves. Unfortunately, their appropriation of the film industry has come at a huge cost. The harrowing truth is that the industry only has a handful of actors who get casted – and re-casted. There are only a few names up on the marquee, of which the regulars are Faysal Qureshi, Saba Qamar etc. Every name is a household name. Although these actors are immensely talented, I can’t help but roll my eyes as I surf through the channels and see the same faces. I know their wrinkles, blemishes and moles by heart now. Therefore, I am on my knees and joining my palms for this desperate plea: Bring in some new talent, for God’s sake! Admittedly, there are many young actors who have shot to the top, however, the reality is that they are the relatives of the big names; cousins, sons or daughters of prominent actors of their time. The progeny is stepping in and reaping the gold. That seems to be the norm Pakistan subscribes to. Take, for instance, the case of Sikander Rizvi. He is the grandson of Noor Jehan, who was a renowned singer of the 90’s. He did not break a sweat as he nabbed the lead for Dekh Magar Pyar Se.

“I never wanted to work in films even though I have always been surrounded by the film stars.  When Fawad dropped out, I happily stepped into his shoes.”

This year witnessed Pakistani cinema step out of a murky and Bolly obsessed past into a well-choreographed, seductive, witty, and innuendo-filled cinematic future. For a country, now in its 69^th year of independence, that once teemed with 1500 movie houses – it’s about time. The 2015 blockbuster, Jawani Phir Nahi Ani (JPNA), was the perfect culmination to a year of decent Lollywood films. Below are the venerable author’s six astute observations on the three hour Nadeem Baig comedy on the burdened life of three bachelors under the tyranny of their wives. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2ls6q2[/embed] 1. “What happens in Bangkok stays in Bangkok” [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Jawani Phir Nahi Ani Facebook page[/caption] ...is every Pakistani bachelor’s motto because getting a visa to Thailand is way easier, than trying to make it to the actual Sin City (Las Vegas). 2. ‘Bwoooyz’ trip [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Photo: Jawani Phir Nahi Ani Facebook page[/caption] JPNA’s male characters are appealingly recognisable – the slick, sweet talker (Humayun Saeed), the slightly overweight class quipster (Ahmed Butt), the self-conscious dork (Vasay Chaudry), and the perennially skirt-chasing Don Juan (Hamza Ali Abbasi). Our band of lotharios head to Bangkok to fulfil their ultimate stereotypical male fantasies; Thai ‘massages’, beers on the beach (Adios amigos to the orange juice ke glasses at Port Grand Karachi), and night-time car rides with the top down. And, of course, no Pakistani ‘bwoyz’ trip is complete without the unabashedly obvious ogling of bikini-laden jiggly décor aka white female tourists. The JPNA male cast pulls off the sleazypan in a classically lascivious manner that only our desi and Arab male counterparts seem to be capable of. (To all those slamming Hamza Ali Abbasi as a hypocrite for his comments post-production, please note, it seems that the bechara had mistaken the bikini-walis to be CIA operatives. It happens to the best of us, okay?) After too many hours of too many hijinks, the movie predictably diffuses into an ‘all is well that ends well’ dream sequence as the misbehaving boys get what they are supposed to, also known as the love of their wives, as well as everything else they want, without even really having to try. In JPNA’s covertly misogynistic world, the lying and cheating husbands’ estranged wives take a journey from Karachi to Lahore to tell them they miss them and ask them to come home. 3. Piece bara tait aey [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Despite the film’s grossly frequent misogynistic overtures (please refer to all scenes from Thailand and the final courtroom scene), the female characters still manage to take charge of JPNA and steal the spotlight. The heady combination of a hormonally charged up, very pregnant (both in reel and real life), gun-toting Pakhtun wife (Sarwat Gilani), the uptight, let-me-ignore-shady husband’s-misgivings wife (Ayesha Khan), the overworked, overbooked mother (Uzma Khan), the selfie obsessed drama queen fiancée (Sohai Ali), and the ballsy, tequila chugging girlfriend (Mehwish Hayat) dominate the screen in a way that is brave and impossible not to care about. Wannabe mullahs everywhere will tell you this is not the real Pakistan and this is not the archetypal Pakistani woman. While that’s not entirely inaccurate it’s also not entirely true. These women do represent at least some types of the average Pakistani woman. And they do it skilfully and beautifully. You don’t have to be comfortable with or even like a drunken-with-daddy-issues Mehwish Hayat, an overworked, too busy for lovemaking Uzma Khan, or the insanely annoying daddy’s girl Sohai Ali who lives for Instagram. But you still have to doff your hat to the way in which some of our industry’s most talented actresses execute these characters. 4. All is ‘Fair and Lovely’ when it comes to product placement [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="565"] Photo: Jawani Phir Nahi Ani Facebook page[/caption] Everything is a product in JPNA, so much so that even the cast has trouble separating out what they think is marketable to the Pakistani masses from what they actually want. Does Hamza Ali Abbasi really want to wear that much Levis? There is such a thing as too much crucifixes, plaid and denim on a grown man. And does Sohai Ali really want to openly reveal her beauty as a result of skin bleaching Fair and Lovely at her own mehndi party? No one really wants to admit ye hai Fair and Lovely ka jalwa. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x338nzq[/embed] These random brand plugs leave the viewers unnecessarily distracted, and no more or less likely to use a Habib Bank credit card machine. But, okay. Films funders are funders. 5. A comedy of (fairly) epic proportions [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Jawani Phir Nahi Ani Facebook page[/caption] JPNA made me laugh till my kidney hurt. But that doesn’t change the fact that that the film is essentially a three hour Humayun Saeed self-congratulatory fantasy. For the sake of Allah, please tell me why the man insists on dressing like a dulha (groom) with Shahrukh Khan-esque sultry gazes and highlighted hair rivalling on-screen love interest Mehwish Hayat’s hair? With maybe 30 minutes of a plot that has been unbearably diluted to a feature length film – albeit with a great cast and attractive celebrity cameos (ahem, hey, Fahad Mustafa!) – my fellow moviegoers and I gasped in mild horror and looked at our watches when the intermission sign flashed on the screen because, no lie, at hour one I was satisfied and ready to go home. 6. In Lollywood, past is the past [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Jawani Phir Nahi Ani Facebook page[/caption]  JPNA is Lollywood’s conciliatory move telling you the past is prologue. The soundtrack hits the spot by sneakily following the current Bolly inspired formula for acoustic success; Yo Yo Honey Singh wali beat, scantily clad women, film’s leading men mock rapping in a dark room with sunglasses on for non-visual reasons, and approximately thirty random shout outs to five different alcohol brands. Bacardi may or may not have been a film sponsor. Either way, the soundtrack fills the bill and this author guarantees that Fair and Lovely and Nach Ke Dekha will be playing in all shaadi (wedding) halls this winter. [embed width=“620”]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x378enp[/embed] The wedding sets and choreography rival a Karan Johar flick. The ridiculously over-the-top and maddening fiasco that has become Pakistani wedding preparation is emulated perfectly in a brief sequence with Sohai Ali and Bushra Ansari’s interactions with unknown, run of the mill designer XYZ charging a couple of crores for medicority (“But it’s my first wedding, mummy”). Humayun Saeed’s sherwani game is so on point it’s like looking at a visually similar sketch of Shahrukh Khan (SRK) circa Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, Kal Ho Naa Ho, etc. In fact, throughout the full three hours the man does not let us forget he’s the self-proclaimed SRK of Lollywood. Finally, the entire cast expertly capitalises on the mantra ‘sex sells’. The sexual innuendo is on point. From Javaid Sheikh suggestively gyrating on a motorbike, to Humayun Saeed instructing Mehwish Hayat to get down on her knees (to dodge a bullet, but of course), the comedy is evocative and as subtle as a blow to the head. So leave your morals, religious convictions, and fatwas at home. This is the Naya Pakistan.

“Ho Mann Jahaan”, apparently among Pakistan’s most anticipated films, released recently to packed houses and rave reviews. While there's enough in the film to keep you glued to the seats, Pakistan has definitely seen better films lately. An amazing soundtrack, a boisterous star-cast, decent acting, ample use of flashy colours, spectacular cinematography and some great locales are some of the film’s strong points. However, there's more to the film; and far more shades of grey that go well in one flick. So here’s a round-up of the deeper meanings and greater life lessons from “Ho Mann Jahaan”. No spoilers are given here, partly because there’s not much to give from the plot-line! 1. Boys and girls can never really be friends. You might be buddies for life and all that, but all your friends from the opposite gender are eventually going to hit on you - it’s just a matter of time. Yes, even if your female best friend is committed to your male best friend. However, it totally depends on you if you prefer sweeping all this awkwardness under the carpet and are intent upon showing absolutely killer moves on “Shakar Wandaan” with the very same friends. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOCO6FrxD4M 2. You might belong to the lower strata of society, and may also carry your humble foundations on your arm; but that won't stop you from looking dapper at will. Also, you can deliberately pronounce monotonous as mo-no-tone-ous to convince us of your lack of privileges, but owing to your showy friends and high-profile (and Sheheryar Munawar looks), that still comes across as a totally acceptable pronunciation and we start doubting our own. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] 3. Your life might be a complete mess, replete with all the tragedies that would give “Umrao Jaan” a run for her money; but all these problems come with a simplistic-to-the-point-of-stupid solution. You can always end up having (or feigning, if you’re strong-nerved) a nervous break-down and you are done: happy endings! So yeah, you just need a hospital admission or Mahira Khan to rescue you from life. The second one might not always work, so we’re sticking with the former. And so is Adeel Hussain! [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Screenshot[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] 4. Speaking of which, it has been sadly revealed that there’s only so much you can digest (and appreciate) in the name of Mahira Khan. And this is something coming from a person who watched “Bin Roye” twice for her. You might have a great cast to begin with, but you cannot expect it to swim across the ocean and come out alive if your script is tissue-paper thin. 5. Cameos might have registered themselves as the ‘in’ thing, but they are sure to be met with indifference (or worse, yawns) if they do little to compliment the story-line. Who would've thought that the sight of heart-throbs like Fawad Khan, Zohaib Hassan, Zeb Bangash and Hamza Ali Abbasi would be met with such a deafening silence. Or maybe it was just the Lahori cinema I watched the movie in. - Parents will always understand you at the end of the day, and vice versa. In this Pakistani version of “Taare Zameen Par”, with exceedingly more aged and better looking actors - the relationship between parents and kids uses a convenient brush-up. This movie must be mandatory watching for all the parents out there. They’re sure to come out as better ones afterwards. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] 6. If you’re single and a bit too eager to mingle, friends’ mehndis are where you should be heading. You can always count on finding a hot, compatible, eligible match for you. (Hint: they will approach you with all the Bollywood clichés - your table is empty and they’ll ask if they can take a seat; followed by the usual - ‘I don't really know many people here!’). To which you’re like, “Hell, baby. Now you know me well-enough. For life, that is!” [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] 7. Your dad might be a border-line fanatic, but he’ll just accept you if you're strong-headed enough. And he won’t go berserk after barring you from stopping music and then seeing you on national television out of the blue. You just have to present him, very sweetly, an invitation to your wedding (about which, again, he has no idea), and he will be there to bless you in all his might. Well the film has already been playing for a bit too long, so we’re too tired to question the sanity of this! [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] 8. When they say a film is made on the editing table, they aren’t kidding. A film can always (and I repeat, always) use some sleek editing. And then some more of it. If you’re bent upon dwelling on all the unnecessary bits, go for a TV drama instead. Those things run for years, but there might as well be a reason why more directors all around the world are going for shorter movies. 9. Someone might be flawless. But that does not save them from bagging a role that is meatless. Ask Sonya Jehan! [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook- Ho Mann Jahaan Official[/caption] 10. Songs are imperative for a film, especially when its counting on them so heavily. Also, it is smart to save your best song for last. That way you can assure that the people remain seated to the very end. Otherwise they might leave the hall in search of greener pastures half-way through the film. 11. Everyone is selfish. Everyone uses you for their own good, eventually (especially the men). But stay tuned: Everyone also learns a lesson somehow and then competes with Mother Teresa in selflessness. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration there - but given the promising trailers and mammoth-like publicity, so is this film. [embed width-"620" height="348"]https://vimeo.com/142850097[/embed] [poll id="399"]

With our local film industry upping its game with releases like Jawani Phir Nahi Ani (2015), Ho Mann Jahaan (2016) and Manto (2015), Nasir Khan’s Bachaana is another feather in the cap. The newly released flick stars an ensemble cast of Mohib Mirza, Sanam Saeed and Adeel Hashmi in pivotal roles. The movie starts with the introduction of Waqas aka Vicky (Mohib Mirza) who is a Pakistani working as a cabbie in Mauritius. Parallel to Vicky’s story is the story of a newly-wed Indian Muslim couple; Aalia played by Sanam Saeed and her husband Jehangir aka J played by Adeel Hashmi. https://www.instagram.com/p/BB6mHIdlFGy? Vicky bumps into Aalia and is hired by the newly-wed couple to drop them off to their hotel. Once the couples reaches the hotel and Vicky leaves, strange things begin to happen resulting in Jehangir asking Aalia to return to her country and then he disappears. While on her way to the airport, things take a twist and Aalia bumps into Vicky again. What happens next is what Bachaana is all about. Watch it to explore! https://www.instagram.com/p/_K1lPVlFFx? https://www.instagram.com/p/BAFFNfklFD-? Performance wise, Bachaana stands tall on three pillars, Mohib Mirza, Sanam Saeed and the script. Mohib Mirza is undoubtedly the most dapper, relaxed and impeccable actor. He is perfect ‘movie material’. He knows he has the looks and uses them to his advantage. https://www.instagram.com/p/_Yya1HMCPm? https://www.instagram.com/p/BAZWJbxsCJ7? https://www.instagram.com/p/_gDsxrFFL9? Sanam Saeed, being a very competent actress was the show-stealer here. As a lead heroin, she gave a stellar performance expressing multiple emotions flawlessly. She complements Mohib perfectly and Bachaana wouldn't be the same without her. The third hero in the film is the script; the dialogues are fresh, witty and easy to relate to – keeping India and Pakistan’s humour and lifestyle in mind. Mauritius gave the film the exquisite edge of exotic locations that are breathtaking! On the downside, however, is Adeel Hashmi’s OTT acting. He started off with a smooth performance in the initial scenes but as the movie progressed his acting looked nauseatingly feigned. In his particular case, I think the director should have said,

“Adeel, act LESS!”

Mah-e-Mir, a film directed by Anjum Shehzad and produced by Syed Noor in collaboration with Momina Duraid was released on May 6, 2017. I believe it has outdone all other Lollywood films in terms of language and cinematography. The star studded cast includes Fahad Mustafa (Jamil), Sanam Saeed (Naina) Iman Ali (Mehtab Begum), Manzar Sehbai (Dr Kaleem) and Alyy Khan (Nawab Sahab). [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Sanam Saeed
Photo: Facebook[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Alyy Khan.
Photo: Twitter[/caption] The thematic concern of the film is to decipher between feeling and mood, voice and gesture, imagination and reality. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5HcMAZifjU The opening scene and dialogue are truly mesmerising.

“I sat in solitude, but then the moon appeared and a raging madness descended upon me.”

“Shayar tuo aap hain hum to bus alfaaz idhar udhar kartey hain.” (You are the actual poet, we just play around the words)

This Mother’s Day I took my mother out on a date to watch Pakistani cinema’s latest flick Mah-e-Mir. Luckily, it has not been banned as yet. I am not a movie buff per say, but I do end up going to the cinema every other week to take a break from reality. So, I hardly ever read movie reviews before watching movies. I like to watch a movie with a blank mind, having nothing to compare it with and judge it based on the entertainment value. I went in judging from the title that Mah-e-Mir would probably be based on the life of one of the Urdu poetry giants. The first 15 minutes passed by and my mother nudged me with a big sarcastic grin on her face and whispered,

“Can you understand what they are saying?”

Aksbandh, Lollywood’s first-of-a-kind horror movie, which has been inspired by the found-footage format in American supernatural horror movie series Paranormal Activity, hit cinemas on May 20, 2016. The movie, which is also similar to the Final Destination series, was made in partnership with Hum TV, Urdu1 and Express News, and has been directed by Emram Hussain and co-written by Ayaz Samoo. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYzGKZFF7CE The story revolves around a group of amateur college-going film-makers who wish to make a movie of their own. To shoot their project, they decide to go to the Mangrove forests of Larkana (Sindh). The group starts its adventure in a frenzy of excitement. However, as they go further onto their expedition, their fervour begins to waver. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook[/caption] The movie starts with the main characters, Ayaan (Daniyal Afzal Khan), Saadia (Shehzeen Rahat), Alia (Mahrukh Rizvi), Raheel (Bilal Yousufzai), Shehzad (Saud Imtiaz) and Sunny (Ayaz Samoo), introducing themselves on camera. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Ayaan and Saadia are the directors of the project; Alia and Raheel play their roles in scene one. A dog-tired comedy but reasonable wit also weaves its way through the ‘very horror’ (pun intended) film as Alia is asked,

“What kind of boys do you like?”

Hotal, the work of a New York Film Academy graduate, Khalid Hasan Khan, offered nothing surreal and nothing to write home about. Even though he won the Best Film award for his debut psycho-thriller at the Delhi International Film Festival 2014, his movie Hotal failed in many aspects. The lack of continuity, an insubstantial plot, and frequent editing bloopers served as serious mistakes that made the movie an extremely horrendous watch for the viewers. [embed width-"620" height="348"]https://vimeo.com/87328839[/embed] Hotal revolves around Kashika (Meera) and her wish to give birth to a daughter while her husband Naresh (Humayun Gilani) absolutely does not want to have another daughter. Her second pregnancy creates a lot of unhappiness in her marriage and her husband insists on taking her to the doctor, hoping to get answers to why his wife cannot bear him a son. The doctor then advises the husband to take his expecting wife to a place named Hotal. This place is situated on the outskirts of the city and the doctor there handles such cases by performing illegal abortions. Except his wife has no idea he’s taking her there for this reason. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] At the Hotal, Kashika starts seeing disturbing visions of her unborn sister and soon the reality begins unfolding before her eyes. She starts to put the pieces of the terrifying puzzle together. With the help of her ghost sister, Kashika eventually dodges the infamous doctor. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] The rest of the plot revolves around a CBI inspector and a vengeful woman looking for her twin sister’s assassin. To bolster the shaky and confusing storyline, the characters of a tight-lipped administrator, a cook, a gardener, a mysterious Poornima (girl born on a full moon day) and a talkative taxi driver were included to create a more convoluted and baffling crime thriller. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] To be honest, Khan’s independent movie cannot be categorised as a typical Pakistani film, except for the fact that it showcases Lollywood star Meera and other Pakistani artists. The film exhibits a very Bollywoodish aura starting from characterisations, to costumes and locations. Even the prime language of the script is Hindi. Despite various similarities, Pakistani moviegoers may not be able relate to these things. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Credit where credit is due, Khan should be appreciated for selecting a bold issue such as female foeticide; the hideous practice of killing female foetuses illegally via induced abortion. In the sub-continent, there are numerous doctors and private clinics where illegal abortions are done due to the cultural preferences for a son. Despite strict laws and punishments for such acts, this obnoxious practice is on the rise in Pakistan, India and China. The yearly average number of sex selective abortions in Pakistan is 116,384, whereas China witnesses around 800,000 and India witnesses 600,000 abortions per year. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Khan’s screenplay tried to touch upon the socio-legal complexities of this abhorrent custom. However, the loose grip on the plot, low production value, irrelevant songs, ostentatious dances, and countless lapses in logic and reason turned Hotal into an intolerable piece of hogwash. The plot turns whacky midway and characters seem to mindlessly jump into scenes out of nowhere. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Instead of carefully considering the set design, cinematography, costumes, lighting and background music, all the attention has been wasted on irrelevant item numbers such as Lakshmi and Mombatti. Similarly, the Hindi diction of all actors failed to impress audiences. I fail to understand the director’s logic behind this. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScLQnRJTyas Although, Meera won the Best Actress award for her character of Kashika at the Delhi International Film Festival 2014, there is nothing praiseworthy about her performance. She has delivered the same performances in the past as well; Billi (2000), Khilona (1996), Khoye Ho Tum Kahan (2001). Hotal is definitely not a feather in her cap. All in all, Hotal is a freaky product, not a spine-chilling psycho-thriller. [poll id="570"]

Who is not aware of Jamal Shah’s potential? He is amongst the most creative minds of Pakistan. Shah was involved in cross-border projects back in the 80’s and 90’s. Revenge of the Worthless is Shah’s directorial debut in the Pakistani film industry. This time Shah made his comeback with a highly potent cast including veteran actors Firdaus Jamal and Ayub Khoso. Having said that, there are many things the movie has to offer to its viewers. [embed width "620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2dk1qz_revenge-of-the-worthless-official-trailer-hd_shortfilms[/embed] The plot of Revenge of the Worthless is based on the 2009 Swat insurgency. It shares the story of an upright progressive man Zarak Khan (Jamal Shah), a boy named Gulalai (Abdul Raheem) who is abandoned by his father due to his sexual orientation, a folk artist Shabana (Maira Khan) who preaches the message of love and harmony, and a man called Janaan (Imran Tareen) who lost his family in extremist attacks. The movie reveals how the lives of these characters are intertwined and affected by the Taliban and extremists in Swat. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Jamal Shah
Photo: IMDb[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Abdul Raheem
Photo: Facebook[/caption] In spite of having an ensemble cast of renowned actors playing strong roles, overall, the movie misses the mark. Firdaus Jamal and Ayub Khoso stand out – but only to a certain extent. They could have taken the characters to an entirely new level if their roles were written in a better manner. I’d blame the feeble script for this bit of inadequacy. Jamal Shah is average. There are scenes where, as an actor, he could have done very well but, unfortunately, was unsuccessful at making an impact. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Ayub Khoso as Ameer Qudrat-Ullah
Photo: Facebook[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Ayub Khoso and Zubair Achakzai
Photo: IMDb[/caption] Maira Khan overacts in most of the scenes; she falls terribly short in the diction department, and she could have done her homework more effectively to play Shabana’s character. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Iram Rehman, Shehar Bano and Emel Karakose
Photo: IMDb[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook[/caption] Shamil Khan was given limited screen-time, but what ruined his performance was the shabbily written dialogue that drastically reduced his margin to perform well. On the other hand, Imran Tareen looked promising and he has the potential of doing justice to a role, provided he makes the right choices when he’s offered different characters. Abdul Raheem manages to portray his character as required. Noor Bukhari in a cameo was a waste. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Shamyl Khan and Maira Khan
Photo: Facebook[/caption] Another let down in the fare is that it seems as though the actors worked half-heartedly during the shooting. There’s not a single performance to lookout for. The music is mediocre. The only saving grace of the movie are its action sequences and that too, to a certain extent. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Firdaus Jamal
Photo: Facebook[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Jamal Shah and Emel Karakose
Photo: IMDb[/caption]

It looks like Jamal Shah made this film solely for himself. The narrative had many hiccups and editing was haphazard at some points. However, the cinematography is good. As a package, Revenge of the Worthless is in fact worthless as it creates no impact whatsoever. It is a below-average film, and quite a disappointing one from the old-timers who have put it together. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Asif Shah
Photo: Facebook[/caption]

There is certain redemption in resurgence. A feeling of hope and of renewal, of things starting anew, of setting the old wrongs right. Pakistani cinema has come up by leaps and bounds in the last few years. From a struggling franchise engulfed in out-dated ideas desperately clinging on in order to survive and become a booming industry reminiscent of the golden days and a slight peek into the wondrous possibilities that lie ahead. Pakistani cinema has finally arrived and as a keen devotee of this resurrection it is apparent that the film industry is here to stay. Although the current situation resembles a bed of roses, not long ago it was a reflection of a barren lifeless orchard that had been left to dwindle and wither away. During 2003 and 2013, only a handful of cinematic productions took place. Low quality in terms of production, acting and direction reduced the industry to ruins. The diminishing number of production houses led to low receipts that significantly contributed to this downturn, eventually perpetuating a vicious cycle that threatened to deluge the industry into oblivion. However, in 2014 and the years that have followed, the industry reinvented itself. Crowd pleasers like Jawani Phir Nahi Ani (2015) and Na Maloom Afrad (2014) appealed to the masses accumulating record collections in cinema houses all over the country. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBW7oZYgWRg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnCQHQ_yHms For many detractors though, this upturn in fortune had been achieved at an astounding cost. The industry had sold its soul to the devil and had become a sell-out, but then came Manto (2015) and Moor (2015). The duo introduced new standards of acting and direction that had never been seen before in the industry, so brilliant in their execution that everyone was taken back. The controversially nuance poet was brought to life with his plays, a tearful yet eye opening journey was revealed for all to see – something that had not been divulged before but had been done so beautifully that no one could argue that it was not worth the wait. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tnfx42fxCZU https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lla1lNt0wLI However, success thrives on continuity rather than on resting on one’s laurels. It was imperative for the industry to further extend this run that had people flocking to cinema houses once again; a welcome sight for sore eyes and a vision that for most part of the last decade seemed implausible. What followed were stories of friendship and of romance, of estranged love and of war that had people clambering for tickets. More so the success of the industry is a reflection of all those that are a part of it. With Pakistani films doing exceedingly well on local and international platforms, technicians and actors have been in high demand ever since. Numerous singers and actors have made the inauspicious journey across the border. Fawad Khan, with his heart throbbing looks and renowned acting skills has entranced Indian audience, while actresses such as the gorgeous Mahira Khan has left everyone drooling at her natural charisma and beauty – a reflection of the abundance of talent that resides behind these troubled borders. However, as any keen critic would postulate, it is paramount that we look through this veil and analyse as to what is happening at the grass roots. While talking to a keen cinema enthusiast, who has been associated with the industry for most of his life, he said the real emergence lies in schools and universities that are the true building blocks of this revolution. He cited how universities used to be breeding grounds for cinematic brilliance. How writers, directors and actors grew and evolved in an environment that was hospitable to their creative desires. However, ever since the 80s and even today, state restrictions and narrative coupled with increasing religious fanaticism in educational institutions has emasculated this approach and the consequences of which still haunt us as a nation. What resulted was a severe dearth of quality writers, artists and film makers that gave rise to the capitulation of the industry itself. More so among the numerous problems that the industry faced and still does is the lack of funding available to adventure into new avenues. What ensued was the use of obsolete technologies and indigent payoffs to writers, technicians and artists, thus consequentially leading to a crippling of the whole network upon which the film industry functions. Perhaps the most profound effect is the fact that despite the upturn in recent years, our film industry is still light years behind Bollywood or Hollywood. New and evolving methodologies, ingenious scripts (more so in the case of Hollywood) and most importantly professionalism have sent quality and revenues through the roof. Access to worldwide audiences and considerable star appeal significantly contributes to their upturn and is an aspect that our local industry severely lacks. As an inquisitive observer of what has been cooked up by the industry, I sincerely believe that despite the recent upturns, the industry and its constituents have a long way to go. It is vital for the industry to not trade stimulating and challenging scripts and projects for idiotic and vulgar sell-outs that, at best, leave a bitter taste in the viewer’s mouth. Maintaining a sense of uniqueness while being open to outside influence is in my opinion, the cardinal factor that will determine the future for our industry. However, more so it is perhaps how the industry handles this upsurge in fortune that will eventually decide if it will bear fruit. As a nation, we have often been accused of taking a back-step when what was required was to take control and move to the next level. Continuous improvements are essential in terms of quality, writing and acting. The small screen has already mirrored the success that our entertainment industry can accumulate. Learning from their blueprint and improving upon their mistakes, all the while encouraging young talent, can be the foundation upon which the industry can prosper. A welcome change in this regard is the approach adopted by the Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS). LUMS as the only established liberal arts institute in Pakistan has been a heretic and a safe haven for creative enthusiasts since its inception. Leading this thought process is the LUMS Media and Arts society or LMA. Evolving and getting bigger every year, the society spearheads numerous projects throughout the year. Ranging from dramatics to film making, the society takes a keen interest in what it assumes to be its responsibility in aiding the development of future artists by providing avenues to showcase their work. Perhaps their most riveting projects include the Filums (LUMS International Film Festival) and the documentary on the majestic hills of northern Pakistan that is to be released soon. Filums – hosted annually by the LUMS Media Arts Society (LMA), is one of the largest student-organised film festivals in South Asia. It serves as an important platform for the youth, upcoming filmmakers and enthusiasts to showcase their talent and come together to celebrate their passion. Filum brings together both amateur and aspiring filmmakers and experts of the field resulting in a nourishing and fulfilling experience for those involved. Although small in comparison to what the society envisions, for it to grow over the coming years, programs such as this, amongst others, mean LUMS has taken the first step towards a long, albeit rewarding journey ahead.

Jawad Bashir has a unique way of incorporating humour into his songs and acts, case in point: Teen Bata Teen from the mid-90s. It took Bashir quite a few years to embark on the route of film production. He made his debut with the horror flick, Maya (2015) and his latest venture is supposed to be an out and out comedy filled with an element of romance. That being said, Teri Meri Love Story is a rom-com featuring Mohib Mirza, Omar Shahzad, Ushna Shah, Uzma Khan, Mohsin Abbas Haider, Salman Shahid, Laila Zuberi and Ahmed Abdul Rehman in pivotal roles. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Farah Fashion[/caption] The movie starts off with Esha (Ushna Shah), who is head over heels in love with Ramis (Omar Shahzad), hoping that one day he will propose to her. Esha’s friends Sherry (Mohsin Abbas) and Danish (Ahmed Rehman) inform Ramis regarding her feelings towards him, resulting in him asking for her hand in marriage. But fate takes its toll when Esha’s father, Rana (Salman Shahid) announces that his daughter has already been betrothed to his friend’s only son, Nael (Mohib Mirza). From there on, things take a complete turn and that’s what Teri Meri Love Story is all about. First things first, the script of the film wasn’t great. The jokes were so clichéd that they’re hardly capable of summoning a smile, let alone a laugh. I failed to make sense of the entire movie – to the extent that I questioned why I even bought a ticket for this movie in the first place. They could’ve at least had the decency of coming up with a decent plot. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Farah Fashion[/caption] The direction of Teri Meri Love Story is amongst the worst that Pakistani cinema has witnessed in the last couple of years. The blurry images and attempts to try and fit everything in a single frame made the movie into a visual torture. There were jerks in the camera movement during fight scenes; making the scenes come across as amateur attempts at movie-making. Performance wise, nobody stood out. Only Mohib looked a bit convincing, but he still needs to stop play-acting and be a bit more natural.  After Bachaana (2016), Mohib Mirza’s performance in this movie is a complete let down. Omar Shahzad is trying too hard and comes off as an overly intense actor in nearly every scene. He is forgetting that he is supposed to look natural. He needs to work on his physical appearance – not his physique, but factors such as his hairstyle and wardrobe. There’s a pretty obvious wardrobe malfunction in the climax action sequence. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Farah Fashion[/caption] Ushna Shah fails at looking the part, as well as playing it. Mohsin Abbas should not have opted for such a role, especially after being one of the highlights in Na Maloom Afraad (2014). It is evident that he is trying to make viewers smile, but the stale jokes fail to illicit any response. Uzma Khan is the glam factor in the movie, but despite all her jhatkaas and matkaas she fails because of her horrible dancing skills, coupled with second-rate choreography. Salman Shahid, a veteran actor, is a disappointment. His dialogues are painful, mainly because he is trying too hard to bring about a comic element. The same can be said for Laila Zuberi. The movie is crammed with songs; they appear at random intervals. If you want to save your hard-earned money, skip Teri Meri Love Story because even television sitcoms have better engagement and entertainment quotients. It might attract people with zero intellect and those who are not familiar with quality cinema. All in all, this movie is a disaster.

Making it as an independent filmmaker in Pakistan is not easy. Having a film industry that consistently puts dance numbers, good-looking actors and fancy costumes over character, story and plot is bad enough. But the fact that studios here are not ready to invest and original ideas only makes it worse. But that hasn’t stopped aspiring filmmaker and playwright Hamza Bangash from bringing his ideas to life and overcoming a number of barriers that can come in the way of any aspiring filmmaker. In 2014, his short film Badal premiered at the Cannes Film Festival’s Court Metrage, which is an incredible achievement in itself. And now, two years down the line, he’s behind the camera again to make another short film, Rang Raaz: The Secret of Colour. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Hamza Bangash
Photo: hamzabangashfilms.com[/caption] The story is relatively simple. It’s about two young kids, who fall in love and decide that love is enough to live on. They plan to run away together in the night and get married. The only problem is she’s Muslim and he’s Hindu. And they live in Pakistan, which complicates things, a lot. Inspired by the works of virtuoso filmmakers like Wong Kar-Wai (Chungking Express, In the Mood for Love) and Asghar Farhadi (A Separation, The Past), the film has been described as Hamza’s vision of Pakistan,

“Dynamic, complex and fundamentally at war with itself.”

The Macmillan Dictionary defines a romantic-comedy as,

“A funny movie, play or television program about a love story that ends happily.”

Steering away from the melodramatic genre of our drama industry – which continually encircles around the ‘bechari aurat’ (oppressed woman) – projects like Ek Thi Marium attempt to bring about a much needed change showcasing the true meaning of the commonly misused term: woman empowerment. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QkDwnpm31UY The project is a biopic of the first Pakistani woman fighter pilot, Marium Mukhtar, who was martyred whilst in the line of duty. The gripping narrative, crisp direction, and deep dialogues have made this telefilm both moving and inspirational; two qualities which our monotonous sagas continually lack. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Pakistani woman fighter pilot, Marium Mukhtar
Photo: Reuters[/caption] Ek thi Marium narrates the story of a spirited young woman whose struggles, diligence, unshaken faith and conviction made her the proud recipient of the Tamgha-e-Basalat (Medal of Good Conduct) post her martyrdom. Marium Mukhtar, while fighting stereotypes, made the courageous decision to become a GD fighter pilot for the Pakistan Air Force – a field presumed to be a man’s profession. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook[/caption] During the 120-minute telefilm, we see Marium transcend from a cadet to a PAF fighter pilot. We see her struggle and overcome the harshest of circumstances, deprived of all the blessings we so casually take for granted. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Sanam Baloch
Photo: Screenshot[/caption] She is forced to shape herself in accordance to the Air Force standards, and comply with orders that separates her from her natural self.  Apart from the mental stress, we see Marium partake in strenuous physical exercises that push her to her breaking point, like her male colleagues are expected to do as well. But like a true hero, we see her rise to every challenge. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Sanam Baloch
Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Marium’s story plays a big role in breaking the unspoken barrier between civilians and soldiers, who just can’t seem to connect with one another on the societal front – with the assumption that it’s due to their discipline, principles, petite attire, and intimidating personalities. Ek Thi Marium shows viewers the other side of the stern face that one associates with soldiers, and illustrates the struggles that one goes through to finally reach that dignified stature. The movie creates a connection and illustrates a more humane aspect of our soldiers, who we unintentionally take as selfless and courageous individuals, lacking any sort of emotion other than patriotism. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Facebook[/caption] The star of the telefilm, Sanam Baloch, does complete justice to her character and her much awaited comeback, effortlessly portraying a very real yet heroic figure. Hina Bayat performs beyond everyone’s expectations in her concluding speech, when she becomes the proud mother of her shaheed (martyred) daughter. The film is tear-jerking to say the least and will leave you with a heavy heart. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Sanam Baloch
Photo: Facebook[/caption]

“Hamari Marium tou qaum ke naam par qurbaan hogai, magar aap ke gharon mein ek ek Marium hai. Aap sab se bus itni ilteja hai ke apni apni Marium ko, qaum ki amanat, aur Allah ki rehmat samajh ke palein - Shukriya” (Our Marium sacrificed herself in the name of her nation, but in each of our homes, there is a Marium. I humbly request you to understand that your Marium is an asset of the nation and a blessing from God, hence, raise her accordingly.) 

I still remember when I was first introduced to The Mindy Project by a friend while sitting in her apartment in DC back in 2014. We started binge-watching it for a few nights after dinner during my brief stay with her. When I returned to my internship in Vancouver, I heard one of my colleagues (an Indian-Canadian woman) raving about it. Mindy Kaling is undoubtedly a talented lady and the show has been quite popular – on a separate note, there was something about it that made all the brown girls go crazy. They finally got to see a brown woman in a lead role; not just as a mysterious exotic femme fatale but as an independent and intelligent woman trying to make it through her career and love life. https://twitter.com/mindykaling/status/778030613546672131 Critical race theorists have spoken at length about how women of colour are depicted, particularly in the media. Only recently have they been assigned leading roles, providing considerable voices to their cultural ethos, whilst showcasing a heroine that mainstream audiences can also relate to. But this Eid, I was pleasantly surprised by the manner in which Pakistani cinema projected minority voices. I’m using the word ‘minority’ not only to refer to their population size, but to reflect the diverse religious and ethnic communities of Pakistan. It only dawned upon the audience during the second half of Actor in Law that Meenu Screwvala was a Parsi girl, even though it was hinted at earlier on (Mehwish Hayat’s accent and her Parsi mother’s dressing). Not only was she employed in a mainstream private news channel, her character was illustrated as an independent and head strong female. Interestingly, towards the end of the movie, her marriage with the male Muslim lead is glorified by referring to the Quaid (who had also married a Parsi girl). Meanwhile, Meena in Janaan is a fun loving and high spirited Pakhtun girl who has grown up abroad. The fact that her English accent is thicker than her Pakhtun accent is an apt reflection of her immigrant persona. Although the male lead, Asfandyar, fits the reserved yet aggressive young-blooded male Pakhtun model, he speaks impeccable Urdu with only subtle hints of a Pakhtun accent. The obstacles that inter-ethnic unions have to face were portrayed commendably by the film makers through the wedding of the Pakhtun Palwasha to a Punjabi boy. The case of making minorities visible in pop culture faces a twofold problem globally. They can either be under represented or misrepresented. Minelle Mahtani, a Canadian author and journalist, who identifies herself as ‘mixed race’, quotes research that there has not been a single drama series made in Canada that has featured successful interracial couples as leading roles. Statistics on actual couples in the country suggest otherwise. This further complicates the situation and increases feelings of rejection as minority citizens are made to feel less ‘Canadian’ and whiteness becomes the norm. Misrepresentation relies on negative images of minorities, a lot of which can be witnessed in Hollywood. Characters representing minorities are usually used to drive ahead plot lines and so the South Asian character might just be the funny cab driver who has a 10 minute conversation with another character. The black Canadian would be the villain or thief, or worse – the Muslim male could be the terrorist. A similar picture is painted in Pakistan. While growing up in the 90s, I could have never imagined a Parsi girl in the lead role of a mainstream commercial film, and that too not just as a passive subject but as someone actively asserting that identity. Pakhtun are often shown as the illiterate ‘gatemen’ (chowkidaars) with a heavy accent and Sindhis are seen as extremely subjugated tillers (muzara) bowing down to their feudal masters. There is still a long way to go in terms of the TV serials in the country where religious and ethnic minorities are made invisible or are underrepresented. Maybe they can learn something from the coming-of-age that Pakistani cinema is experiencing and not only represent the stereotypical, unaccented Sunni Muslim prototypes and expect audiences to only relate to them.

Dear Soumyadipta Banerjee,   I don’t know if it’s the right thing to be writing you a letter, since you might be endorsing a cut-off of all sorts (of written collaborations between our countries) after so emphatically bashing the cultural ones. It might not even be the best time for you since I see your fellows are caught up in a frenzy of misjudging the Pakistani markings regarding the ammunition used in the Uri attacks. But I write to you because it’s necessary. You might not have singled out Fawad Khan in your letter but I evidently am addressing this to only you, since I do believe that many in your country still retain the basic sense and these are only your blatant misconceptions that I intend to discuss. I don’t know whether it’s a tragedy or a comedy that you are intent on portraying Bollywood as a resort for all unemployed Pakistan artists. Heck, you make it sound like a charity that would have put the late Abdul Sattar Edhi to shame. Accordingly, it’s convenient to pin-point a successful Fawad Khan (or your other options that include Mahira Khan, Rahat Fateh Ali Khan or Adnan Sami – all of whom have been duly hailed by your country), but not a failed Veena Malik or a Meera; who ran out of work in Bollywood as soon as they started since they couldn’t impress your audiences. That is the point exactly, Bollywood takes what sells. It isn’t doing any great service to the artists of my nation by hiring them out of pure sympathy. Just see the comments on the trailer of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil on YouTube, the people of your country are swooning over Fawad Khan so much that at places they even seem to over-shadow the lead of the movie. Producers are hiring Pakistani artists and paying them (something that you seem to mention quite often) because they are making money through them; it’s business, not altruism. You take the credit of making a superstar out of Fawad Khan ever so smoothly. But there’s a hitch: Fawad Khan was a superstar in Pakistan right when Humsafar aired in our country. All his subsequent serials were TRPs smashing. Friends from India tell me that Fawad Khan had won Indian hearts right when Zaroon was aired on Zindagi Channel. His stint in Indian cinema might have propelled his popularity slightly, but that’s what exposure does to you. Deepika Padukone didn’t become a superstar after landing a role opposite Vin Diesel; it was her credentials as a superstar that got her there. And I see no way how you can take the credit of his stardom for something as forgettable as Khoobsurat, a flick that was duly bashed by all your critics (“great films” you say, I reserve my comments). India didn’t make Fawad Khan a superstar, it roped him in because he was one already, and marketed the product where the demand was brewing already. Mahira Khan is another sweetheart of Pakistan. These are the highest paid celebrities in Pakistan, and the latter’s film in India hasn’t even released yet. The last point was just for your notice in case you try to claim Mahira Khan’s stardom in the future too. It’s grossly ignorant on your part to claim that while your country opens its doors ever so warmly to our country, we shut them in your face just as relentlessly. Can you please tell me how many Pakistani films have graced the screens of your country lately? While we have seen almost every Indian film playing in our country, if one of our films is lucky enough to be given the green signal by your country, it lands in trouble. The innocent Bin Roye was banned in Maharashtra, so you can definitely keep your intrinsic welcoming fantasy to yourself. Even if some Indian films are banned in Pakistan, they have baggage attached to them. Expect us to screen a Phantom in our country only if you agree to show a Waar in yours. We also know that all Pakistani channels are banned in India, despite you agreeing that Pakistani serials are way better than Indian ones. Here you might be surprised to learn that every single Pakistani channel buys Indian content and plays it on our channels, despite Indian channels also airing in most parts of the country. All your excruciating daily soaps (and God knows those things are liable to be banned only due to the sheer insanity they portray) are actually bought by Pakistan just as your films are. We are not just welcoming to your content, but also a revenue-generating market for you. So kindly cut us some slack, and do the math! You seem indignant on the view that Indian artists aren’t allowed to work in Pakistan. Well, you may want to take a back-seat and question any among Nandita Das, Naseeruddin Shah and Om Puri among others in this regard, all of whom have portrayed essential roles in Pakistani films. Neha Dhupia has even done an item number here. We have had songs sung by Sonu Nigam, Shreya Ghoshal, Harsdeep Kaur, Rekha Bhardwaj, Ankit Tiwari and Sukhwinder Singh amongst others in our films, despite our music industry being second to none, and many among your population also seem to testify to this fact. We have even had Indian singers on our Coke Studio, which is the rage all over the sub-continent. Kareena Kapoor, Sonam Kapoor, Nargis Fakhri, Sidhart Malhotra, Amrita Arora, Arjun Kapoor and many others have been a part of our advertisement campaigns, and you know better, those things pay quite well. You talk about piracy as if Pakistan has a monopoly on it. Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s an international issue. You should remember Udta Punjab as we remember Jawani Phir Nahi Aani, both films pirated in the very country they were made by. You play the higher ground by narrating how Pakistani artists have been showered with love in India. You might not have gotten to see that, but every single Indian celebrity who has ever come to Pakistan has gone back waxing lyrical about the sheer amount of adulation and admiration they’ve received in Pakistan. You can either ask me to send you the links of their interviews or ask Mahesh Bhatt or Zeenat Aman yourself; just don’t ask Anupam Kher – but guide him on the process of applying for a visa. We have even been borderline welcoming to your director making propaganda films against our country, while one of your own actresses has been charged with sedition for stating something as innocuous as Pakistan is not hell. This tells us something about our attitudes, doesn’t it? So let’s just do away with playing Mother Teresa! And now, the most important point, you charge Fawad Khan for not denouncing his own country, but getting away with the charming smile of his every-time. Except that that isn’t his job. How would you feel if Hollywood starts seeking an apology from Priyanka Chopra every time an Indian is lynched for eating beef in your country? It’s not the job of artists to do what politicians are supposed to do. As Kamila Shamsie puts it, let’s not shift this burden from the shoulders of those responsible even one inch to those already engaging in exchange of culture and good-will. Fawad Khan doesn’t have to carry the baggage of his nationality this way, just as you don’t hold your celebrities accountable for the actions of your state. In fact, how can you even stoop to the level of charging Fawad Khan with something some non-state actors from Pakistan might have done, when your own celebrities don’t bat an eyelid for the persecutions your state officially does? Isn’t your all-time leading superstar associated with a party that orchestrated the Gujarat riots? Have you ever questioned him? How many of your celebrities have avowed against the draconian Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act in Kashmir, or the blinding of innumerable folks with pellet guns in that burning state? When you’re so intent on pointing out the alleged blood on Fawad Khan’s hands, how can you brush off the blood from the conscience of one of your own in a blink of an eye? The blood that was split by your state with a proper agenda, not even some lunatic groups going astray. You cannot choose to look the other way when it comes to you, while trying to limit our focus to the loopholes erratically emanating from our place. When your celebrities don’t take it upon themselves to apologise for something their state is doing, why should Fawad Khan take the responsibility of something his state isn’t even directly involved in? You try to be a humanist, but all you end up becoming is a hyper-nationalist jingoist. If there’s an equation of the cultural exchange between our countries, the balance shifts overwhelmingly in favour of Pakistan. We watch your films, telecast your shows, and listen to your songs; we know a lot more about your country that you have ever known about us. Your ignorance about us is what leads to you writing apparent love letters full of hatred to the likes of Fawad Khan. You know how many Pakistanis have been killed due to terrorism? More than 50,000. Innocents, largely unnamed, faceless Pakistanis. Our civil society, our community, our media, our children and lately, even our establishment, is trying extremely hard to get rid of the scourge of terrorism. If you cannot help us with that, kindly do not insult us by bickering nonsensically out of the blue. Oh, and people didn’t even know you before you started your rant against Fawad Khan. Now the whole sub-continent is talking about you (not very kindly, but hey, no publicity is bad publicity). So the next time you ignorantly claim that your country made Fawad Khan a super-star, always remember that it was due to this very same Pakistani star that you got your two minutes of fame. Do visit Pakistan someday, please, to let go of the sheer bias you have against us. I, along with most other Pakistanis, will be very happy to show you around. And I promise, we won’t even consistently remind you of how much we’ve spent on you! Love from a Pakistani. PS: Fawad Khan is from Lahore, not Karachi.