‘Bol’ is a film that should have been made in India, not because it could have been made better (may be with more finesse) but because we needed a message-driven movie so much more.
The problems highlighted in Bol (female infanticide, violence against women, prostitution, illiteracy, poor population control, persecution of gays and eunuchs, religious fundamentalism, brute patriarchy) are as much India’s bane as they are of Pakistan’s, perhaps even more so for us as we have a thriving middle class that doesn’t seem to have helped mitigate these sores of our misguided customs.
It is astounding that the Pakistan film industry, which till only a few years ago was considered primitive and a dirt-poor cousin of Bollywood, should churn out such a hard-hitting movie that almost effortlessly melds entertainment with a social message. Bol almost harks back to the socially-relevant films of B R Chopra from the 1950s. Even the filmic treatment and characterisations are reminiscent of that bygone era.
This doesn’t mean Bol is a resurrected dinosaur. It isn’t. It’s a movie that makes you forget which side of the border you are on, both geographically and socially. Scenes in Lahore could so easily be mistaken for Delhi or the family as an Indian one (which, in a way, it is). The protagonist family are mohajirs and hail from pre-Partition India (Lucknow, to be precise).
The patriarch of the family (Manzar Sehbai as Hakim sahib) is a casteist brute, fundamentalist, wife-beater and son-lover but never once do you feel unqualified hatred for the man. Even his most brutal acts fail to force you to condemn him. He comes across as much a victim of the society and traditions he has grown up in as his hapless wife and retinue of daughters. Recall, Hakim sahib’s nostalgia about his father who too had brought up a large family but with much more financial ease.
His final debasement happens after he turns to Saqa Kanjar, a lowlife (played with infectious relish by Shafqat Cheema), for a job teaching children so that he can continue to feed his large family of women. Saqa finally gets Hakim sahib to sleep with the in-house courtesan Meena (Iman Ali in a sensuous take on the long-lost Bolly tawaif) to produce a girl child. Strangely, it is this baby girl who brings about a change of heart in the pitiless Hakim sahib and the climax.
The grim story is leavened by unexpected doses of humour (like the cricket match scene, brother Saifi’s cuddling of Mustafa, and Meena’s unabashed use of Pakeezah’s famous ‘aap ke paiyr’ dialogue – director Shoaib Mansoor’s tribute to Bolly – or her ‘Lucknavi’ interactions with Hakim sahib) and songs, which are mainly a concession to the young audience.
The performances are almost uniformly excellent. Manzar Sehbai’s is a stunning turn that almost reminds one of Emil Jannings in ‘The Blue Angel’. And Humaima Malick (as the rebellious eldest daughter Zainub) is an eye-opener. Never once do we feel that she is in real life a glamour model. A bravura performance. Pakistan, please give us Humaima Malick. We need actors like her.
Atif Aslam, in his film debut, looks very much at ease in front of the camera as he is in front of the mike. The innocent-looking Amr Kashmiri, as the hermaphrodite brother, leaves a lump in the throat. And Mahira Khan, as the beautiful Ayesha, is a breath of fresh air. The rest of the cast, including the long-suffering mother Suraiya (Zaib Rehman), lends able support.
The penultimate scene where Zainub makes an impassioned plea to people through the media is melodramatic but in a way that recalls Ritwik Ghatak’s ‘Meghe Dhaka Tara’ (where the dying Neeta cries out loud for a new life). ‘Bol’, with a more restrained approach and less pandering to the mainstream, might have been a modern classic for the guts its has shown in raising questions and highlighting evils we turn our eyes from every day.
I won’t rate Shoaib Mansoor’s film like I do other movies. I can only say, Go Watch ‘Bol’.
