Exceeding all expectations with Kamli, the director pushes the envelope and delivers an unsettling, sensual, nuanced film.
“Oh, will wonders ever cease? Blessed be the mystery of love” – ‘Mystery of Love’ by Sufjan Stevens
A majority of Pakistani audiences were unable to watch
Sarmad Khoosat’s last film as
director: Zindagi Tamasha. Censorship sealed its fate. Grapevine within industry ranks suggest that it might get a release in 2022. Who knows?
But, as Pakistani audiences clamoured to return to the movies after two years, a number of new Pakistani films arrived to meet the demand.
At a time when inflation rises faster than people can keep up, the decision to experience any film in cinemas is a conflicting one. Add to this, the fact that so far most films have been underwhelming. No, you cannot leave your brain at the door. If it were possible, the world would be a different place. This means if you want to make a fun film that appeals to a large number of people, it still needs a cohesive element to hold it together.
A romantic comedy-meets-action film-meets-song-and-dance routine with a nice dose of typical preaching sounds like the recipe for disaster that is still being repeated. This is what most films offer because Pakistani audiences apparently like, “Khichri that has everything”. That the audience is so stupid is debatable, otherwise every dumb and dumber film would be making serious moolah. As the truism goes, never underestimate your audience. Some films have released as restrictions eased by first rolling out such awful trailers that instead of getting intrigued by them, we laugh it off as a farce and keep our money to ourselves. The product needs to be good at least, if not great - whatever the genre. Filmmakers and those associated with film should be given a chance even with the terrible films they make is the request of the industry. But a decade later, this demand doesn’t fly.
However, there are some filmmakers worth championing. And if one man falls in that category, it is Sarmad Sultan Khoosat. Zindagi Tamasha is not available to the audience, but Kamli is, and since it is, we feel obligated to tell you that it is a must-watch for many, many reasons. Subverting expectations, it is Sarmad Khoosat who has made us realise that a man can direct a film that primarily tells stories of women. Instead of the male gaze that can often corrupt a story from the start, what Kamli does so subliminally and beautifully is putting women front and centre. The film weaves it all together with excellent cinematography by Awais Gohar, glorious music (produced by Saad Sultan) and a thriller quotient that’ll keep you guessing till the very end.
Following a private screening in Karachi for industry experts and celebrities just last week, the word from even the staunchest of critics is unanimous: Kamli is the best Pakistani film ever made; it should be sent to the Oscars as our official entry, and the accolades will hopefully follow.
Before we get into the film, it is important to realise one fact Khoosat has established: he can direct female characters in a way no other filmmaker has been able to. Women are not sexless creatures whose purpose in life is to bear children. Sarmad kills this notion with one stroke.
“Drowned in living waters/Cursed by the love that I received” - ‘Mystery of Love’ by Sufjan Stevens
Set across beautiful, dusty landscape with a jungle and lake like a small village, we meet each character, first learning their backstories - something other films have forgotten - before getting invested in their singular and collective narratives.
Saba Qamar is a muse for an artist, essayed by Nimra Bucha, and lives with her sister-in-law, portrayed by Sania Saeed. The relationship between all three is connected. Saba is waiting for her husband who left for better prospects a number of years ago. Nimra Bucha, the artist, is an alcoholic in a deeply unhappy marriage as she continues to question her ability as an artist and as a woman who cannot give children to her creepy husband, essayed by Omair Rana. Saba’s best friend, Iman Shahid, is also a muse for Nimra and a great friend to Saba, even as she is getting married soon to Adeel Afzal.
Saba encounters on one fine day a man – essayed by newcomer Hamza Khwaja – in her vicinity. From the minute
they set eyes on each other,
the somewhat unconventional meeting between the two creates sparks and a silent chemistry. Even when they don’t speak, the eyes give their attraction away. As the relationship develops, there is a lot that is still unknown, but for Saba it creates a genuine happiness that blossoms, emoted to perfection by Saba Qamar. Hamza Khwaja, a newcomer introduced through the film, meets the flirtations, experiences and physical and emotional attractions equally. Meanwhile, the music that appears in certain places, is done in elegant fashion, with not one song or piece of music coming across as irrelevant to the narrative.
Other stories intertwined with Saba, include (a) her sister-in-law, a blind woman who finds solace in religious zealotry and continues to keep her young and restless sister-in-law jailed, insisting that her brother will return. She also depends on her in emotional ways. But as we get past intermission, the alcoholic Nimra Bucha suggests Saba’s marriage to her husband with whom she shares an ungratifying relationship.
With Kamli, Sarmad Khoosat turns feminine sexuality, as it is perceived, on its head. You’re not going to find an item number or female actors as props. It is only as the story unfolds that you get to the heart of the story: women are complex creatures who have emotional and sensual needs that must be met.
There are lessons embedded within the film. Those who love us can often hurt us the most. Women can be anything. They can be artists.
They can find their way - even with a disability. They can be toxic. They can stand up to domestic violence. They can carry insurmountable loss. The feeling of loneliness is just as existent in their lives as it is in any other gender.
Unsettling and provoking, a film that shakes you to the core, Kamli is a project strong enough to earn global acclaim. Within its success, at least with critics, a lesson can be found: make good films, you will earn good reviews. Plain and simple.
A rural landscape that is arresting, the scenes between Hamza and Saba in particular are electric. Saba Qamar is an actor with phenomenal depth, much like Nimra Bucha and the iconic Sania Saeed. The supporting cast also does its job almost as if we’re not watching a film at all.
In the end, while the thrill unfolds and you learn the shocking twist, it must be remembered that a film like this doesn’t come around every day. Articulating feminine needs - made special by unbelievable chemistry between Saba and Hamza – something almost always attributed to men alone, it’s the kind of film that would make the most revolutionary mind aware of South Asian norms very proud.