Book
Maula Jutt to Manto
Title: | Essays on Cinema in Pakistan. |
Edited by: | Vazira Zamindar and Asad Ali |
Publisher: | Oxford University Press |
Vazira Zamindar and Asad Ali’s book on film, Love, War, and Other Longings, is well worth the modest price of PKR 750. Beautifully illustrated with photographs of movie-shots, old cinemas such as Firdaus in Mirpurkhas, and screen legends such as Naseeruddin Shah, the text is remarkably aesthetically pleasing as well as generally informative. Zamindar and Ali provide a useful introduction to the various essays that are by notable individuals such as Ayesha Jalal, Iftikhar Dadi and Adnan Madani, among others.
Indeed, one of the essays comprises just a set of grey and charcoal burnt reels from the once famous Nishat Cinema (a photo of which is found in another part of the text, capturing its art-deco like exterior). This photo essay by Bani Abidi provides a haunting “intermission” between the academic essays of the book and its more “chatty” pieces. Vazira Zamindar contributes both the former as well as latter type of essay to this volume. One of her chapters is about the remarkable film archive collected passionately and painstakingly over the years by Guddu Khan, while a more scholarly piece deals with Zamindar’s assessment of the nationalistic Pakistani film Waar. A professor at Brown University, Zamindar was instrumental (as her introduction claims) for organizing a couple of notable film festivals, along with Asad Ali, with support provided by Brown as well as Harvard.
The editors have taken care to promote the sheer diversity underlying Pakistani film creation, production and thematics. There is a moving essay by Kamran Asdar Ali on the classic film Saheli, where a wife encourages her best friend to become the second spouse of her own husband. Although Asdar Ali’s tone is slightly patronizing especially when he underscores that he does not want his essay to reinforce patriarchal gender power dynamics (in short, he dictates which way the reader should view his work) the essay itself is important and sincere. Renowned historian, Ayesha Jalal, writes about both the 2015 biopic on Manto, as well as the more recent, celebrated film on the late writer by Nandita Das. Jalal (who is related to Manto) takes issue with the manner in which creative interpretation tends to encroach on factual accuracy insofar as depictions of this complex man are concerned. Given that Jalal’s own field is history not film, this is understandable, but as the editors (and other contributors such as Meena Gaur and Rachel Dwyer) point out, at times it is virtually impossible to separate illusion from reality when it comes to cinema.
It would be uncharitable for readers to take issue with the fact that the book is heavily reliant on pictures and interviews as well as on academic material. Although one should note that given that the publisher is Oxford University Press, the text will no doubt come under its fair share of scholarly scrutiny. Which perhaps why it is vital to note that Asad Ali’s essay on censorship and cinema is undeniably erudite, and arguably the best written piece in the entire volume. Academics and zealous students may raise an eyebrow at the paucity of endnotes and references in many of the essays, but Ali displays no such lack. Thoroughly documented and focused, his arguments center on the marginal but persistent tropes of pissing men and dancing women in films, such as Na Maloom Afraad, among others. Semi-obligatory references to Western critics such as Judith Butler and Jacques Derrida waft in and out of the book in general, but Ali makes one of the more intriguing critical points in noting the importance of anti-Foucauldian critiques as regards power-related discourses. His essay is both a joy to read and sensibly informative.
It would be wrong of me to prioritize certain images in this text over and above others since every illustration has been chosen with care and is ultimately well-placed. Nevertheless, I will make special mention of a few pictures that are especially memorable. Chief among these is a two-page spread of Durriya Kazi, Iftikhar Dadi, Elizabeth Dadi, and David Alesworth’s glittering artwork Heart Mahal. Zamindar has helpfully provided us with superb shots of Guddu Khan’s semi-exhaustive archive. She also includes some fine black and white pictures (in her essay on Waar) reflecting colonial and military power. However, I was tempted to view some of the more striking images so many times that I found the glue of the binding had started to come apart, so I caution the more visually oriented of the book’s reader’s to be gentle in their perusal! Regardless of that hiccup, should one wish for a visual feast as well as a comprehensive overview of both the significant as well as more obscure aspects of Pakistani cinema and its history ranging from Maula Jutt to Manto, the beginner need go no further than this text for a while. Stimulating as well as moving, it has (like good cinema itself) the power to entertain as well as instruct.
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