Wakhri ☆☆☆

Directed by: Iram Parveen Bilal

Starring: Faryal Mehmood, Gulshan Majeed, Shees Sajjad Gul, Bakhtawar Mazhar, Akbar Islam

rom the very beginning, you can see Wakhri is a well-made, well-planned film. The visuals throughout are beautiful, and make you want to keep looking. Wakhri the character is herself potentially iconic. There’s so much that is right with Wakhri.

The director, Iram Parveen Bilal has previously said that Wakhri is inspired by the life and death of Qandeel Baloch, one of Pakistan’s most controversial, massive social media stars. But where Baloch was murdered by her brother for honor, the makers of Wakhri wanted a different fate for their heroine.

We are introduced to a middle-class Lahore family, grandparents, their widowed daughter, and her pre-teen son. Noor (Faryal Mehmood), is outspoken and rebellious, fiery, flouting convention wherever she can, and encouraging her all-girl science class at the school she teaches to be the same. On paper, Noor is a great character. She wants younger women to know there is much more to them than the way they look. And she isn’t all talk, she does teach science and maths at her school, where parents of students complain that the course should focus on English and islamiat, because potential suitors and in-laws wish for their wives and daughters-in-law to speak fluent English.

Noor is at the same time, struggling in her personal life, where her deceased husband’s family is apparently trying to win her only child Sulay (Shees Sajjad Gul) over with presents and money; things she cannot offer him.

Noor’s best friend, Gucchi (Gulshan Majeed), is queer and closeted, and she happily hangs out with him at his photography studio, joins him at the performance nights he hosts, and becomes Wakhri officially on his encouragement.

Gucchi himself deals with the trials of the queer person in a conservative society: being urged to settle in a straight marriage, and harassed by beelas, aggressive, ostensibly cis-het men looking for non-cis-het fun, even if forced and nonconsensual.

Thus the stage is set for what could have been a truly majestic piece of cinema, but isn’t quite, because it is far too ambitious, or perhaps not ambitious enough.

Iram Parveen Bilal’s heart is always in the right place. She picks up on the cultural nuances that underlie possibly every social ill in Pakistan, and she has chosen a visual, mass medium to convey the unease they cause to society at large, and the vulnerable in particular. With Wakhri, there is also clear visual and technical maturity, as compared to Josh, her first. Bilal has taken care to consult with the relevant people to ensure the views and events presented in the film are as accurate as possible. Case in point, trans activist Dr Mehrub Moiz Awan shares writing credits with her.

But then comes a sense of trying to say it all at once. Yes, feminist issues in Pakistan actually look a lot like asking for basic human rights like an education, safety, legal protection, physical autonomy for women, children and the LGBTQ+ communities. None of these things is mutually exclusive, and of course one will come up if the other does, but trying to sandwich them all together in one roughly 90-minute narrative has whatever the opposite of impact is. In one breath, Bilal points out the importance of education, the difficulty in providing it for young women in Pakistan, child marriage, the vulnerability of the queer community in Pakistan, the vulnerability of a single woman in a court of law, trolling, aggression against women or minorities who speak up.

In all the noise of every issue raised, Wakhri loses her voice.

Even for the short runtime, the film runs just a shade too long, simply because of the overcrowding of storylines, beloved popular personalities that pop up, two endings (it should have been either/or).

Yes, the plot is compelling, important, and placing a woman in a strong lead is always welcome, but if we are going to create cinema for the world, it may be time to also streamline the story, processes, and artistic approach. Tiny things - which maybe were due to a real-time lag at the screening - like mistimed sound mixing have to be taken a look at, and knowing what to keep and what to lose is a talent.

Feminist issues in Pakistan actually look a lot like asking for basic human rights like an education, safety in and out of the home, legal protection, physical autonomy for women, children and the LGBTQ+ communities. None of these things is mutually exclusive, and of course one will come up if the other does, but trying to sandwich them all together in one roughly 90-minute narrative has whatever the opposite of impact is. In one breath, Bilal points out the importance of education, the difficulty in providing it for young women in Pakistan, child marriage, the vulnerability of the queer community in Pakistan, the vulnerability of a single woman in a court of law, trolling, aggression against women or minorities who speak up.
In all the noise of every issue raised, Wakhri loses her voice.

Rating system: *Not on your life * ½ If you really must waste your time ** Hardly worth the bother ** ½ Okay for a slow afternoon only *** Good enough for a look see *** ½ Recommended viewing **** Don’t miss it **** ½ Almost perfect ***** Perfection