‘Wakhri’: Red Sea Review

Dir: Iram Parveen Bilal. Pakistan/US. 2023. 99mins

Taking inspiration from the tragic real-life story of Qandeel Baloch, a Pakistani social media influencer who fell victim to an honour killing, Iram Parveen Bilal’s drama wears its heart and its issues on its sleeve. She sets out her stall early on, as schoolteacher and single mum Noor (Faryal Mehmood) attends an underground club night with her queer bestie Gucchi (Gulshan Majeed). They dance with the diverse crowd to a high energy pop song that declares: ’Patriarchy ,you’re out of luck!’.

Broad brush approach

This is an early indicator of the broad-brush approach the writer/director takes with her film. But if it lacks the nuance and intricacy of fellow Pakistani director Saim Sadiq’s similarly patriarchy-challenging Joyland – with both directors featuring in 2018’s Locarno Open Doors – the film’s mainstream verve is still effective emotionally. Bilal’s previous film I’ll Meet You There was banned in her homeland and Wakhri (aka One of a Kind) could also attract domestic controversy. Its best prospects most likely lie in further festival play after its premiere in Red Sea Competition.

Noor, whose husband died eight years previously, is facing domestic pressure from her in-laws, who are trying to gain custody of her son Sulay (Shees Sajjad Gul). This has led her to be borderline over-protective of him, but Bilal leaves no doubt the kid is a smart cookie and the relationship between the pair provides a touching thread as the drama unfolds. 

Meanwhile, in the classroom Noor is teaching girls about maths and science while trying to raise the cash to build an all-girls school; just one of the many things that are shown to be difficult for anyone to achieve in a society that explicitly favours boys. Gucchi, too, is facing pressure to conform to heterosexual stereotypes. This element, while providing good visual moments in terms of costuming, struggles to maintain momentum as the story progresses.

Turning to social media to fundraise, with only minimal success, Noor hits on the idea of creating a sexy and outspoken alter-ego, Wakhri, who proceeds to speak truth to power while raking in the cash. Clark Kent levels of suspension of disbelief are required to believe her identity remains secret as, although Noor initially sports a beaded veil as Wakhri, she is soon largely dependent on a wig and make-up to disguise her double-life. Credit is due to hair and make-up artist Waqar Hussain, his work enabling newcomer Mehmood to be a smouldering presence in these segments. As her fame grows, of course, so do the prospects of trouble.

In terms of direction, Bilal’s approach is straightforward. She employs the tried and tested technique of allowing social media reactions to bubble up onscreen over various sequences, with Wakhri branded a saint and a sinner in equal measure as Noor uses the perceived ’mother/whore’ dichotomy to her own advantage. Despite the strong costume and make-up, however, the production values in general feel quite low – especially in the club scenes which lack the sweaty energy of the real thing, although upbeat music from Abdullah Siddiqui, working with the likes of Meesha Shafi and rapper Eva B, does what it can to pep things up.

The film strays into soap opera territory in terms of its tussle of emotions and quick character indicators – bad guy Chaudhry (Sohail Sameer), for example, owns a snake. Nevertheless, Bilal remains an endearing champion of her characters and their right to self-determination. The director also features a number of real-life trans activists, and incorporates newsreel footage of protests about Qandeel Baloch that brings home the real-life implications for those who speak out against societal oppression