Pakistani film deserves to be widely seen
JOYLAND
Starring: Ali Junejo, Rasti Farooq, Alina Khan
Director: Saim Sadiq
TOLD with great style and no little flair, Joyland, the first Pakistani film to be in official selection for some years at the Cannes Film Festival, delivered on its rich promise, writes Sailesh Ram.
Screened on Monday (23) in the Un Certain Regard Section, Saim Sadiq’s tale certainly isn’t for the squeamish but nor is it one that will have you weeping for long – for in its darkness there is hope too, even if the outward story arc is a little bleak.
Sadiq’s first feature length effort is a family drama – there are two married sons, an elderly father, and three daughters of one of the sons and his wife.
The central character is Haider (Ali Junejo) – he is physically small but striking and is married but childless. Right there, there are questions in a south Asian culture that associates marriage with procreation and producing a son and heir.
Opening the film is the “disappointment” that comes with the birth of another girl to Haider’s older brother. Haider is jobless and drifting – he appears to love his wife Mumtaz (Rasti Farooq), but something more than an income seems amiss.
Mumtaz appears happy enough and enjoys her work as a bridal make-up artist. Sadiq’s women are far from simple decoration in a film which is mostly about identity, gender roles and alienation, and is centred around the gaps or fissures in an assumed masculinity. He takes gender stereotypes and subtly subverts them in Joyland.
At all times, clear roles for the sexes in traditional south Asian societies are questioned, examined and found wanting. That is one of this film’s huge strengths. Haider finds himself working as a male backing dancer in an erotic theatre group – that is its description but it isn’t terribly risqué or erotic. The edginess comes in one of the performers – Biba (Alina Khan) is transgender and not everyone, as we well know, is ok with that.
A little bit from nowhere – or perhaps more subtly than this critic can discern within the first half an hour or so of Haider taking up his new responsibilities – he finds himself drawn to Biba and they begin an affair.
Haider’s new job is a source of joy for his father, though he says that dropping the “erotic” description when telling others might be best. It’s his insistence, though, that Mumtaz give up her job and look after the household that really rankles with her.
It is obvious that all of the main characters are struggling – the father is wheelchair bound and finds himself in a pickle and leaning on the support of a kindly widow – but even this goes awry when she has to stay over and her son is indignant that something untoward has occurred.
Sadiq offers no easy answers – just as it is should be – and his skill is in the visuals and the way he lets his characters breathe their roles without saying very much. The framing is tight, there is little light and everything has a slightly dilapidated feel.
What perhaps is most surprising and welcome is that Haider and Biba are not the focus – the last third becomes about another character and her issues have been there for all of us to see, but no one is really looking.
That is the larger metaphor running through Joyland – people are forever looking but no one is quite literally seeing what is going on or trying to understand and address real issues.
This film deserves to be widely seen, and with awards for this section set to be handed out near the end of the week, don’t be shocked if it wins something. Sadiq has announced himself – now his challenge is to maintain the high standards he has created with Joyland. Bravo.