Finally, a film that defines a cinematic language unique to Pakistan,
and we have Sarmad Sultan Khoosat to thank for it.

Kamli’ – Sarmad Sultan Khoosat’s latest offering is simply spellbinding. Sarmad has previously tackled the biopic of Saadat Hassan Manto very deftly for the silver screen. His other venture for celluloid, ‘Zindagi Tamasha’, got embroiled in unnecessary controversy and is yet to hit screens. From what one gathers from those who have had sneak peeks, it is another masterpiece. And nothing short is expected of a sensitive director such as Sarmad Khoosat, who has managed to work his magic on even the most predictable plots for television. (Humsafar’ – there I have said it aloud).

For Kamli, Sarmad has had no bindings and leverages this freedom to make something defining. Produced under his family banner of Khoosat Films and with his sister Kanwal Khoosat as producer, Sarmad finally brings his sincerest artistic expression to date to the silver screen in a story that is as intense, poetic, and burning as every director’s film should be.

In Kamli, both art-house and mainstream cinemas find a firm middle ground (it is high time we get rid of these compartments). On this firm stage, Sarmad binds a canvas, woven carefully with a loaded script and meticulous preparation evident by how well all ends are tied. Interestingly, the film is based on another short film done by Mehar Bano but with additional stories and dialogues written by Sarmad himself. With a solid plot in place, Sarmad then paints a mesmerizing world that transports viewers from reality to a dreamscape without much effort – no trappings and no gimmicks. The beautiful locations and setting that Sarmad has carefully picked as the backdrop for Kamli are almost as consequential as any character – not overpowering the drama unfolding in the foreground. It is a delicate balance to strike between a colloquial charm and the broader appeal of a film. (very tricky – recall Jami’s Moor).

Saba Qamar surprises with this one – this can be classified as her best work to date. Thankfully Sarmad keeps a strict check on her tendency to be loud. Saba plays Hina, a character who is more introspective than worldly. We must mention how beautifully the scene where Hina comes face to face with the forbidden fruit of her life, Amaltas, for the first time has been filmed. Saba portrays Hina’s vulnerability without any dialogue perfectly well.

Sania Saeed is, of course, as good as ever. She is a powerhouse as Sakina, a woman who is struggling with her inner demons while controlling her hapless captive. Sania knows how to play a life-hardened woman’s character with enough skill and also gives the viewer a peek into the soft soul within her. Kamli gives her sufficient margin to demonstrate her art to the fullest. The third pillar in this story is held firmly by Nimra Bucha. As a sensitive woman trapped in an unhappy bond, Bucha is convincing when she tries to control the people around her, mainly due to the lack of control over her life, failings, and frustrations.

Hamza Khwaja plays Amaltas extremely well. He looks good as the brooding wanderer who triggers upheaval in Hina and Sakina’s quiet lives. In real life, Khawaja is a fitness guru who runs a fitness center and a digital app that helps train people apart from being a theatre enthusiast. Without many dialogues, Amaltas has been symbolized as the forbidden fruit -that Hina yearns for and Sakina fears – in a scene where Hina picks up an apple and devours it, bite by bite, planning to break all her shackles and elope. Omair Rana, Adeel Afzal, and the charming Iman Shahid are well suited for their supporting roles.

Kamli’s music is superlative and music producer Saad Sultan has given it songs that will keep playing for a long time. Vocalists Reshma Jee, Atif Aslam, Zeb Bangash, Zenab Fatimah Sultan, Nimra Gilani, Amna Rahi, and Sohail Shahzad have produced some timeless and soulful melodies. Each song refreshingly adds to the plot, unlike other films where they come in as distractions and break the narrative.

Another aspect worth mentioning is the cinematography. The director of photography Awais Gohar does a fabulous job as the man behind the lens. The opening sequence where the camera pulls out from a dreamy Hina playing with pebbles and pans to a thick green forest captivates the audience. The cinematography manages to hold the audience’s attention till the last scene where Hina disappears into a pond, and the camera stays long enough on the floating Amaltas flowers.

Every frame of Kamli has been painted with a lot of love and passion. Khoosat has taken up a lot of responsibility with Kamli. Here’s hoping that it breaks the stereotypical expectations of the audiences. Through Kamli, Sarmad also demonstrates that filmmakers must have faith that the audience understands and appreciates good cinema. For those who will go to cinemas not knowing what to expect, here is hoping Kamli proves to be a great entertaining and immersive experience.

If Pakistani cinema has to develop a language of its own in the next few years, I hope Kamli is what all future films take after.