It’s an exciting time to be writing about cinema in Pakistan. Not only can we discuss the latest Hollywood and Bollywood offerings but we actually have some exciting Pakistani movies to talk about. Not just one or two or three (as in the past few years) but a whole bunch of them and almost all of them veering away from the traditional “Lollywood” offering. We’ve got bio-pics, crime capers, literary adaptations, animated super-heroics, road comedies, horror and war as well as personal artistic statements. The filmmakers aren’t merely interested in aping the cinematic behemoth across our border but appear willing to forge their own paths and the great thing is that audiences are up for supporting their courage.
A number of films released this year have made a whole lot of money (and even some of the ones that haven’t have people talking about them) and more movies are on the way. Despite the mushrooming of new multiplexes in the bigger cities across the country it suddenly seems that we don’t have enough screens to feed the demand. It may be too early to call this a full-blown revival of the Pakistani film industry but the energy and excitement right now is palpable. It’s fantastic to see and experience.
Feeding that excitement and energy is director (and star) Sarmad Khoosat’s Manto. Khoosat and writer Shahid Nadeem have expertly woven both the life and the works of perhaps Pakistan’s (and pre-partition India’s) most controversial writer into an almost seamless narrative. This is even more commendable when you consider that the movie actually started life as a 22-episode television serial before being converted into a feature film which Khoosat spent almost two years editing.
The movie not only highlights Saadat Hasan Manto’s brilliance by giving us a varied taste of his short stories – summarised through differing storytelling techniques – but gives us the man too, warts and all. By all accounts, Manto was a difficult man to not only work with and deal with but also to live with. His inner demons were fuelled and enflamed by his various addictions, among them alcohol, nicotine, and a burning desire to put pen to paper, to put a mirror up to society no matter what the cost. However, despite its dark subject matter, the movie is not devoid of humour, deriving its wit not only from Manto’s writings (no stranger to the blackly comic or the absurdities of life) but also Shahid Nadeem’s expertise in combining the horrific and the humorous, an expertise he’s demonstrated in many of his scripts for Ajoka Theatre’s stage productions.
Directorially, Sarmad Khoosat makes (mostly) all the right choices – from the cinematography that evokes the Pakistan of the 1950s to the tight editing to the musical score (his use of Mirza Ghalib’s ‘Aah Ko Chahiye’ near the end of the movie is devastating). Performance wise, Khoosat may be the healthiest looking Manto that one has seen onscreen but he convinces by the end. Other standouts in a cast featuring a number of well-known television actors are Saba Qamar, who evokes the spirit (though not necessarily the unique style, affectations, and manner of expression) of the one and only Madam Noor Jehan and Faisal Qureshi as a radio thespian acting out multiple roles in a Manto radio play. Sania Saeed is also unassumingly (thankfully) effective as the writer’s long-suffering wife. It’s also quite wonderful to see Akbar Subhani – himself well-known for playing Manto in the past – as a vociferous Manto detractor and enemy.
A few quibbles. The movie slackens somewhat immediately after a terrific first half (but makes up for it by an intensely powerful climax). However, I do question the choice of having the factual information about the life and works of Manto at the end of the movie being conveyed to us in English (and English only). Surely, one of Urdu’s most important writers deserved a few words in his chosen language of expression to sum up his life.
Khusro Mumtaz
[email protected]; Twitter: @KhusroMumtaz
