by Priya Arora – Follow @ThePriyaArora

Faraz Arif Ansari still remembers the cold winter day in 2013 when India’s Supreme Court reinstated Section 377 of the penal code. He was working on the screenplay for his feature film, “Ravivar,” a mainstream semi socio-political satire with a homosexual protagonist.

“Suddenly, the image on the television in this quaint little café caught my eyes and I remember, as I got up from my chair, walking towards the television, I couldn’t feel my legs. I was numb. I was trembling, I was breaking down. I wanted to tweet, I want to write a Facebook post, I wanted to disappear. It was like the oxygen from our chests was pulled out and you were left bleeding on the walkway.”

In one swift moment, Ansari faced the gruesome reality of being declared a criminal—and the moment inspired him to make (direct, write and produce) a new film with a powerful story that resonated beyond labels. Ansari has now made India’s first silent LGBT film, “Sisak.” The title An Urdu word mean

“Sisak” is a 20-minute silent film about two men who meet each other, over a period of many nights, on a Mumbai local train. Without a single word spoken, and without the possibility of physical intimacy, a strong, wordless romance blooms between the two. The title captures this aptly—sisak is an Urdu word describing a sob that is stuck in the throat.

Ansari knew when the film was born, he said, that it had to be a silent film.

“Silence is the most piercing sound,” Ansari said. “Other than being a political statement about the state of the LGBTQI community in India, there exists a state of immense need to be heard by the community,” Ansari explained. “As a filmmaker and a storyteller, I feel we use too many words to convey what we feel. People need to feel what you are feeling and when there are no words to support the visuals, [this happens] by default.”

The power and intimacy of transporting the audience into the minds of the character, Ansari said, is the kind of roar the community needs. Despite examples of solidarity such as Pride marches, almost every LGBTQI film is about people’s struggles with their families, with themselves, about coming out, etc. But at its essence, the story is not seen as between two men as men but instead as two individuals who are yearning to love and to be together—but because of society, and law, they are unable to.

“We want people to know that ‘Hey, we are just like you!’ and I feel that with ‘Sisak,’ that has somewhere been achieved. We are all the same. What binds us all together is our similarities, our likings and that is how we understand each other. Once that barrier of difference is broken, we shall flourish.”

The story of “Sisak,” is indeed universal. The intrigue, excitement, and power of unspoken romance are alluring and relatable. It is a film for anyone who has ever loved, or been loved, or never had the courage to walk up to someone and express how they feel. As Ansari put it, the characters’ own simplicity is what makes their complications and vulnerabilities all the more powerful.

“There’s no running around the tree, no Swiss Alps, no Dolce & Gabbana clothing, heck, not even a camera track! Just two lost souls, on their way back home, when they discover a home in each other.”

According to Ansari, ‘Sisak’ is a return to the unspoken, unsaid and universal expressions of love, on the path of subtlety and humanity.

“‘Sisak’ is the result of the belief that if love knows no bounds, it need not be bound by words, either.”

And “Sisak” has indeed found success, albeit after its own challenges. Ansari, having already worked as a writer and producer in the film industry for 8 years, including 2011’s “Stanley Ka Dabba,” faced challenges in finding funding for “Sisak.” He put half his life savings into making the film and combined with a successful crowdfunding campaign, completed post-production.

“I remember sitting in front of my bank statements and thinking, if I could truly invest more than half of my life’s savings into making this film happen. They told me “It’s a gay film, no will watch it!” – and then, I remembered all the times that I have been laughed on, heard homophobic slurs thrown on me, sometimes, been abused emotionally and physically for being who I am. It was like a quick montage of imagery and emotions that flashed in front of me and then, I knew it, that I have to make ‘Sisak.’”

Ansari remembers this moment, the decision to make this film, as his best memory of the production. And despite its challenges, that of production and silent filmmaking and low budgets, the film is here and creating a roar, as intended. The response to the film has been overwhelming, Ansari said.

“On a regular day, I get about 30 messages on Facebook from individuals who are in the closet and now want to come out after watching the trailer. It makes me think how powerful 2 minutes of honest & truthful cinema can be.”

[Read Related: “‘An Unsuitable Boy’: On Karan Johar and Coming Out“]

“Sisak” also received an endorsement from Sonam Kapoor earlier this year—she launched the film’s trailer—which has been a big step in catapulting the film into the consciousness of audiences around the world. Ansari said they call Kapoor “Sisak’s” fairy godmother.

“Sonam Kapoor has been extremely wonderful for coming forward and supporting Sisak,” Ansari said. “When you are such a huge influencer and have such powers to inspire so much young minds and you use your powers wisely in actually giving sunshine and attention to what is the dire need… it speaks volumes of Sonam as a human.”

And, of course, not all responses have been so positive. Ansari said that he has received countless hate comments and emails filled with threats. He recalled once being approached by a man at an airport shortly after a group of fans had taken a self with Ansari. Asking him if he was the “gay guy who made the gay love film,” the man called Ansari a derogatory name and spat on his sandwich.

But, Ansari said he doesn’t let the hate get to him. He said he feels an immense amount of love and support, especially because of the important message his film carries.

“I am just glad that people are talking about Sisak and indirectly about the LGBTQIA+ community. I was attending the National LGBTQ Conclave at IIM Kozhikode, India’s Premiere Leading Business School and the first question I was asked was “What is LGBTQ?” You see, that’s the problem. Most people are fearful because they are unaware. What they don’t realize is that we are their children, their siblings & their friends. When they see that, the differences will fade away—but for that to happen, a dialogue has to be opened and Sisak is doing just that.”

Ansari is now taking the film on a worldwide tour, featuring at film festivals in the U.S., Greece, Mexico, France, and much more. He is also in talks to find distribution as well as create a crowdfunding campaign to travel around India with free public screenings n both rural and urban areas.

Ansari also divulged to Brown Girl Magazine that beyond the scope of a 20-minute silent film, Sisak has inspired him to make a silent feature film based on the film.

“It will be called ‘Sifar’, an Urdu word, which means ‘Void’. In this film, I want to explore the backstory of Dhruv’s character (the boy in the Kurta) and Jitin’s story from where we begin Sisak and beyond. Maybe we will never see them together again. Maybe we do. But the film is going to be about the piercing loneliness in the life of a homosexual and the everyday battles that one has to fight, be it inside the closet or outside. For us, every day is a coming out day. Imagine a life like that where acceptance doesn’t exist and love is crime and so it should be forgotten. It will be about that yearning for that fleeting sense of belonging that all of us crave for. After all, aren’t we all lonely, always? Millions of people, looking for others to fulfill them, and yet isolating themselves.”

At its core, “Sisak” is a universal film about love. But “Sisak” is not just that—it is also a strong social and political statement about a part of the population that has been denied the right to love openly and honestly—and so it is silent. Sisak is also about a redundant, inhumane law that isn’t against love. Some also call it an allegory to Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code. And truly, that’s how cinema should be – everything, and at once.

Upcoming screenings of “Sisak” include Harrisburg, Penn. on April 16. and the New York Indian Film Festival in NYC on May 2. You can catch “Sisak” at a film festival near you—check out the film’s official Facebook page for more information.

Priya Arora is a queer-identified community activist, editor, writer and Netflix enthusiast. Born and raised in California, Priya has found a home in New York City, where she currently works as a Web Editor at Hearst Business Media. When she’s not working, Priya enjoys watching old school Bollywood movies, performing at open mics, laboring over NYTimes crosswords, reading books she never finishes, and eating way too much of her partner’s homemade Hyderabadi biryani.

By Brown Girl Magazine

Brown Girl Magazine was created by and for South Asian womxn who believe in the power of storytelling as a … Read more ›

Weddings, huh? Talk about a stress fest. And for the bride, it’s like a 24/7 walk on eggshells. However, add in a paranoid and overprotective sister, and you’ve got a recipe for a completely different degree of drama. In “Polite Society,” Ria Khan (Priya Kansara) and her gang of clumsy pals take the phrase “till death do us part” to a whole new level as they plot to “steal” the bride — aka Ria’s own sister, Lena (Ritu Arya), during her shaadi reception. But with a wedding hall packed with guests, a mother-in-law from hell, and a groom with more shades of fraud than a rainbow, this heist is anything but smooth sailing.

It goes without saying but “Polite Society” comes with a cast of wacky characters, gut-busting one-liners, and an action-packed heist sequence, making it a must-watch for anyone who loves a good comedy. I mean who hasn’t dealt with some serious wedding drama, am I right?

Lead actress Kansara agrees wholeheartedly. “I definitely have!” she chuckles, as I catch up with her at Soho Hotel in London. Despite the rubbish weather outside, Kansara is a ray of sunshine with her infectious enthusiasm.

The minute I read the script, I thought to myself…wow, playing Ria is going to be one wild ride!

[Read Related: Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History — A Review of Sundance’s ‘Polite Society’]

And wild is definitely the right word to describe her character. Ria is a British-Pakistani martial artist-in-training from London, determined to become a professional stuntwoman. Her sister, Lena, who dropped out of uni, often ends up being the guinea pig for filming Ria’s stunts for YouTube, including one lovingly dubbed “the fury.” She reveals

I’d never done martial arts before this film. The stunt training started from the day I got the role, and it was three to four times a week all the way until we finished filming. It was a seven-week period in total, and boy, was it physically demanding. Oh my God, I think I can add a whole new skills section to my CV! But on a serious note, it was so much fun and we had an amazing stunt team. They, including my stunt double, taught me so much. It was important to me to do my own stunts as much as possible, but also strike a healthy balance.

For South Asian women, who are often expected to be quiet and agreeable, all that punching and kicking on set must have been cathartic, right?

Honestly, it was like anger management at work! I got to kick and throw things around — it was the perfect balance.

 

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What sets Kansara apart from other actors starting out in the industry is her ability to draw from her own life experiences to bring authenticity to her characters on screen. Her career began with a degree from UCL and a communications job at a pharmaceutical company. But today, her versatile range and unwavering commitment to her craft have propelled her to the forefront of British comedy, portraying defiant South Asian women we’d love to see in real life.

From my own experience as a South Asian woman, I’ve always been told to do what’s ‘proper’ and think twice before speaking up. Playing a character like Ria and putting myself in her shoes, I felt like I was doing and saying things that I wish I had done at her age. It was almost like living through her and speaking my mind about things I never did.

Without a doubt, every South Asian woman on this planet wishes she cared more about herself and less about what other people think.

Ria totally inspired me. If only I had her mindset when I was younger, my career path would have taken off way sooner instead of worrying about other people’s opinions.

The chemistry between the cast members on and off-screen is so apparent, especially the sisterhood between Ria and Lena. The wild adventures of a bride, and her paranoid maid of honour navigating through family drama, are bound to create some unforgettable moments on set.

[Read Related: ‘What’s Love Got To Do With It’: A Modern-day Exploration of Love Across Cultures]

We both confess our love and admiration for Nimra Bucha’s portrayal of Raheela, Lena’s evil mother-in-law and share a teenage fangirling moment:

I’m obsessed with that woman. There’s something terrifying yet ultra sexy about her character in “Polite Society” that’s mesmerising. I absolutely loved the dance sequence. As South Asians, we’ve all grown up watching Bollywood films and idolising Madhuri Dixit’s iconic dance moves. “Polite Society” gave me my Bollywood heroine moment, and it was a dream come true with the costumes and jewellery.

It’s definitely a unique experience for Kansara, considering her former career was worlds apart from entertainment. So, what advice does she have for aspiring actors who may secretly wish to pursue the same path, but are unsure of the next steps? Kansara advises, drawing from her character’s heist-planning skills.

I believe starting small and honing your craft is an underrated superpower. If you’re passionate about acting, make short-form videos, and build your portfolio. You never know who might be watching.

So, grab your popcorn and your sense of humour, and get ready for “Polite Society” — the film that proves that sometimes, the most polite thing to do is kick some butt and save the day. It released in cinemas on April 28th, and I highly recommend it.

Photo Courtesy: Universal Pictures

By Queenie Shaikh

Desk bound by day and travel bound all other times – Queenie thrives on her weekly dose of biryani and … Read more ›

Haider wades his way through Karachi’s expansive beach, climbing and tumbling over rocks, in Mumtaz’s memory. The vast landscape is perfectly encapsulated in the 4:3 aspect ratio — an unconventional yet welcoming choice. He vanishes into the sea, leaving his storyline open-ended. The screen fades to black. The film comes to a close. The gentle humming and lapping of the waves disappear. However, I stay put. Stumped, and unable to comprehend the masterpiece that Saim Sadiq, director of “Joyland”, has blessed Pakistanis with.

[Read Related: Pakistan Had its First-Ever Trans Pride Parade in Lahore]

The winner of the jury prize at the Cannes film festival, as well as Pakistan’s entry for the Academy Awards 2023, “Joyland” has been marred with controversies (and subsequent bans) from the onset of its win. Ironic, since the film’s core message promotes tolerance and acceptance. Tolerance for unconventional norms, sexual/gender identities, and human emotions and desires.

“It’s so important to narrate these stories in today’s world, where we’re often divided and seldom united,” says producer Apoorva Charan during an exclusive chat with Brown Girl Magazine.

It’s her feature film debut as a producer, and she’s justifiably beaming with pride.

Joyland is such a win for South Asia, but particularly, Pakistani storytelling. Every person I met, I felt like there was some characteristic or quirk about them that mirrored our characters in the film.

Set in the depths of androon Lahore, “Joyland” primarily revolves around Haider (Ali Junejo) — a meek, unemployed house husband in a borderline, passionless marriage. He’s happily helping Saleem bhai (Sohail Sameer) and Nucci bhabi (Sarwat Gilani) raise three kids, while the fourth one breaks Nucci’s water in the opening scene. Another girl is born, despite the ultrasound’s previous declaration of a baby boy. 

“If I were to receive an award based on my character in “Joyland”, it’d definitely be for “best at single-handedly increasing the population of Pakistan,” says Gillani, as we howl with laughter during our spoiler-riddled chat with the cast of the film. “I think that, combined with the ‘coolest bhabi’ — those two will have my name on them.”

I think my philanthropic work plays a part in how I started saying no to bechari roles. How can I be a role model to these women I’m trying to help, while playing the same characters? The change came about with “Churails” and I vehemently stuck to it. My characters need to have a voice; a backbone.

On the other hand, Haider’s wife, Mumtaz (Rasti Farooq), works as a beautician at the local salon, busy dolling up brides in Lahore’s unpredictable load-shedding.

Both Haider and Mumtaz seem to have a relatively stable marriage based equally on societal expectations and gender-flipped roles. While Haider stays home, helps in the kitchen, and attempts at searching for a traditional job, Mumtaz carves autonomy and independence for herself. This is in spite of an oppressive family life characterised and dictated by Haider’s overly conservative, traditionalist father and patriarch, Rana (Salmaan Peerzada), who wishes for the couple to procreate a cricket team of just boys. 

But Rana, known as Abba Jee, is also layered with his own 50 shades of grey, struggling with loneliness and a lack of intimacy, mirrored in his relationship with next-door neighbour Fayyaz (Sania Saeed). His emotional desires are symbolised by his physical impediments — the former handicapped with “what will people say”, and the latter with a wheelchair. The rules that he has for his children are the same that his children have for him, bound by tradition, norms, and society. They are not allowed to stray from what is considered “normal”.

The film’s women are strong which is pretty much a reflection of the women in Sadiq’s life. While Abba Jee shuns the love and companionship that Fayyaz offers, she stands her ground until firmly asked to leave. The complexity of each person’s emotions versus expectations is what makes “Joyland” relatable on a human level.

Alternatively, Mumtaz’s relationship with Haider is based on convenience and habit, where two people share the same bed but sleep facing away (partially because one of Saleem and Nucci’s young daughters crashes with them every night, illustrating the confined space both Haider and Mumtaz are allowed to be themselves in). The dynamics of their marriage drastically evolve once Haider’s eye catches Biba (Alina Khan), covered in blood as she walks numbingly into the hospital where Nucci gave birth. The introductory scene mirrored the brutal reality of violence inflicted upon Pakistan’s trans community; one of “Joyland’s” most haunting moments. 

Mumtaz is asked to quit her job once Haider lands a gig as a “theatre manager” — a cover-up for his job as a background dancer at the nightclub Biba coincidentally performs at. The film portrays the traditional Pakistani marital social dynamic; men must work, and women must housekeep. Even when some level of independence is allowed to a married woman, she must forego her right to a career later in life. Understandably, it leaves Mumtaz devastated.

“It’s so strange how that’s just an acceptable act in our society,” Farooq chimes in, voicing Mumtaz’s thoughts. “Even if a woman is good at a 100 things, ultimately, she’s expected to quit her job to be a homemaker because that’s ‘her job’.”

With time, Haider falls into a routine and rhythm of working at the theatre and spending more time with Biba, allowing him an insight into the widespread transphobia she’s regularly faced with. Biba confides her innermost desire to be what she termed as “a complete woman” in order to land the same dancing opportunities as her counterparts.

 

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Haider’s daring closeness to Biba leaves Mumtaz — who at this point is reliant on him as a best friend more than the physical intimacy he fitfully provides her — alone, isolated, and depressed. For Haider, it is liberating to leave problems at home and escape into a secret world centred around his deepest desires. He doesn’t want to be a bad person. He doesn’t wish to hurt or leave his wife. But his happiness now seemingly lies in dancing and exchanging stolen kisses with Biba. Farooq agrees:

I think Mumtaz and Haider were best friends at this point. They had an unspoken love for each other, which stemmed from the sanctity of their relationship. They might not be in love but they did love each other. In the eyes of our society and otherwise, they were married, but they’d drifted so far apart. There was love but it wasn’t possible to return from how distant they were.

This point of no return brings Haider to a crossroads — one where he is torn between his loyalty to Mumtaz and his love for Biba. Ultimately and ironically, in a particularly passionate moment, it is his curiosity pertaining to Biba’s sexuality that drives her to throw him out of her life. Defeated and guilt-ridden, he comes face-to-face with a pregnant and non-confrontational Mumtaz, who, by now, is aware of what Haider has been up to but doesn’t have the mental capacity to verbally digest his infidelity alongside a child she doesn’t want.

Her apprehensions about bearing and raising children are indicated throughout the early days of her pregnancy. The clutching of her stomach, the tightening of the rollercoaster belt during a visit to Joyland park, and her unease during the ultrasound are just a few examples of Mumtaz’s angst. 

Abba Jee’s 70th birthday was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Mumtaz, surrounded by family and friends and feeling emptier than ever, takes her own life. A tragic full circle where one life ends as the other begins. Her suicide is harbingered by Rana’s birthday speech as he recalls a palmist once saying his bloodline would end with Haider. 

[Read Related: #JusticeforJulie: Pakistan’s Failure to Protect its Vulnerable Trans Population]

“Joyland” is replete with polarity. There is a seamless hand-in-hand flow of happiness and devastation, longing and antipathy, birth and death. Pakistani society’s struggles with misogynistic gender roles are depicted in the most gentle, sensitive, and nuanced ways. The struggle is also ironic, considering Pakistan has one of the most progressive transgender legislations in the world. Trans people have the right to self-identify their ­gender in Pakistan – a right still denied to the trans community in many progressive countries, such as the UK.

A deeply reflective film with memorable and emotional characters doing justice to their performances. It’s currently running in cinemas here in the UK, and we highly recommend watching this poignant piece of art.

Photos Courtesy: Studio Soho/Khoosat Films

By Queenie Shaikh

Desk bound by day and travel bound all other times – Queenie thrives on her weekly dose of biryani and … Read more ›

Photo Courtesy of Varsha Panikar

“After so Long” is a poetry film created for Simha’s EP, which is streaming on Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music. The poem was collaboratively written by Simha, a U.S. native, and Jae, who is based in India, during the 2020 lockdown. “After so Long” was recited by Simha and their parents. In 2022, I directed and produced the film through my studio, Star Hopper. “After so Long” premiered on Nowness Asia in March 2022.

By Varsha Panikar

Varsha Panikar (they/he) is a filmmaker, writer and multi-disciplinary artist from India. They are the co-founder of Star Hopper, a … Read more ›