Carma is a thrilling ride that can steer the film industry in a new direction

Hollywood director Quentin Tarantino is known for his films that revolve around violence, and Pakistani filmmaker Kashan Admani tried to replicate the Tarantino technique in Pakistan, through Carma. In fact, he dedicated his film to Quentin Tarantino and his golden words, “Violence is one of the most fun things to watch” which kicked off the proceedings, and then practically endorsed what the guru meant.

Starring Osama Tahir, Navin Waqar, Zhalay Sarhadi, Paras Masroor, Umer Aalam, Adnan Siddiqui, and Vajdaan Shah, Carma revolved around a kidnapping gone wrong (or gone right, depending on your perspective) on the streets of Karachi where it’s a normal thing to happen. However, each and every character involved in the act had one or two ulterior motives that made the film interesting for its entire duration.

While Osama Tahir played the hapless victim, Zhalay Sarhadi’s Sasha called the shots, and for the next 113 minutes, the two seemed to be involved in a game of chess that didn’t have a clear winner until the climax. The non-linear narrative was intelligently distributed chapter-wise, just like Tarantino does, and took the audience on a thrilling ride that they will not forget for a long time.

The most memorable aspect of Carma was its novel use of a car as a surrounding as almost 80% of the film was shot in a car, either moving or parked. From the scenes where Osama Tahir’s character talks to his girlfriend and psychiatrist, when his parents communicate with him, or when he is kidnapped and taken for a ride, every important scene is filmed in a car.

And when you have a film that is mostly shot in a car, not having a car chase would have been criminal. The film features a car chase that takes place in the early moments and grips the audience because it is something that hasn’t been attempted in Pakistan before. However, it could have been divided into two parts so that the audience would have been treated to not one but two car chases, and those who got bored with the dialogues would have been rewarded.

The sound design is impressive throughout the film, because had it not been done intelligently it could have gone wrong big time. It was backed up by impressive performances from the cast, who surprisingly were selected after the audition. Be it Osama Tahir, Zhalay Sarhadi, or Navin Waqar, they all auditioned for their characters, which is an unheard-of thing in Pakistani cinema. That’s why the actors who appeared on the screen looked fit for the characters and not once did they remind the viewers of their previous work on TV and/or in films.

And that’s why they were able to give a credible performance – theatre actors like Paras Masroor and Vajdaan Shah looked so menacing that it would take them years to convince the audience that they aren’t gangsters in reality. Umer Aalam, who is doing well in a reality show these days, gave a powerful performance and it didn’t seem for a second that he was making his film debut. Khaled Anam, Adnan Siddiqui, British singer Lily Caseley and Arjumand Rahim were also impressive in their limited appearances, as was the made-up drive-in cinema where an action scene took place.

The three characters around whom the film revolved were Osama Tahir, Navin Waqar, and Zhalay Sarhadi. While Osama Tahir played the dutiful husband to Navin Waqar, Zhalay Sarhadi played the antagonist who wanted to benefit from their union. Her plan was to kidnap the husband and return him for a prized possession about which only the wife knew. Did she succeed or did she fail, you will have to watch Carma to find out the answer. However, one thing is certain that you will exit the theatre impressed with the trio’s performance.

Osama Tahir has all the characteristics of a leading man, and he displays them perfectly in the film. His biggest issue was the dialogues that he had to deliver because that hindered his expressions which were spot on. Navin Waqar might have debuted in a film quite late considering her TV debut came a decade back, but she looks impressive in every scene she is in. In fact, she and Zhalay Sarhadi must immediately stop working on TV and go all filmi because they know how to carry themselves.

Zhalay Sarhadi’s portrayal of a female gang leader will go down in history as one of the most iconic performances in a Pakistani film because she convinced the whole theatre that she was badass and until the film ends, she was in control of the situation. However, unlike most of the characters, her character didn’t have a proper backstory and the writer Fawad Hai should be held responsible for not giving it a thought. Had her backstory been established properly, it would have allowed the audience to appreciate her anger, and her motives which they sadly couldn’t.

And some of the sequences were quite gruesome, which is why the film was rated 18+, but that didn’t stop the makers from stylizing some of the shots that were never attempted in Pakistan. Gone are the days when a bullet couldn’t penetrate a praying Muslim; here the bullet penetrated in such a way that even Hollywood would take notice of the execution. Add to that the perfect background score and you have a film that could be sent to festivals abroad, and maybe be submitted as Pakistan’s official entry to the Oscars next year.

However, there were some issues with the film that kept it from becoming a box office leader during its first week. The use of a ‘MacGuffin’ (an unseen element that drives the plot) was impressive but not appropriate considering most of the dialogues and the text onscreen was in English, whereas the ‘MacGuffin’ name was in difficult Urdu. Secondly, when you have a plot that depends on the twists and turns, the director must cut the trailer intelligently, but here, the makers erred by advertising one of the major twists in the trailer, which lessened its impact.

On the whole, Carma is a good attempt for those audiences who love to watch crime capers, and thrillers and have an appetite for the Tarantino style of filmmaking. For the rest, it will be hard to digest since the story moves back and forth, which isn’t a normal occurrence in Pakistani films. The shortcomings are there, which include too much use of the English language, too much back-and-forth style of narration, too lengthy sequences, and too many dialogues which could have been smartly edited on paper instead of being cut after being shot. One hopes that Kashan Admani and his team don’t stop here and learn from the experience because we need daring filmmakers in Pakistan and he fits the profile.