“Society craves sensation; masala,” Guchhi (Gulshan Majeed) tells his friend Noor (Faryal Mehmood) in “Wakhri,” encouraging her to show a little skin in a fundraising video, though to do so would be at odds with the cause she’s raising money for, building a school for the young girls she teaches who are about to be left without a secondary school to attend as developers buy the land the school sits on. Guchhi can be mildly impressed that she’s gotten some traction with sincerity when a first video brings in a few hundred dollars, but if running an underground drag club has taught him anything, it’s the value of sex appeal to draw a crowd and Noor could use one, though having success is about as appealing as failure if it means leaning on her looks.
It’s inevitable that Noor will give in, particularly if one is aware that writer/director Iram Parveen Bilal was somewhat inspired for her latest feature by the life of Qandeel Baloch, who parlayed fame as an influencer into meaningful activism, but what might be less expected is the complexities the film brings to the surface as Noor puts herself out into the public eye more and more. Returning to her native Pakistan after making her first English-language debut with the Chicago-set “I’ll Meet You There,” Bilal appears to have come back with fresh eyes as she considers the unusual position that Noor finds herself in, widowed for eight years and doing just fine on her own, making the society’s patriarchal strictures appear especially silly. She’d have a life free of men entirely if it weren’t for the ones that need her, from her young son Sulay (Shees Sajjad Gul) to her father Maqbool (Akbar Islam) and Guchhi, with whom she can spend her free time without the fear of being hit on, and during an open mic night at his club, she decides to see what’ll happen if she heeds her friend’s advice for once, putting on a wig, heavy eye-shadow and a (tasteful) low-cut gown.
More than one someone takes out their camera to take in Noor’s transformation into Wakhri, whose combination of looks and progressive politics instantly makes her a social media sensation, and as in most narratives about such a phenomenon, a certain level of disbelief needs to be set aside to buy into her overnight celebrity nationally, but between Mehmood’s confident turn and the script co-written by Bilal and Mehrub Moiz Awan, the inner conflict she has hits right in the gut as Noor isn’t so enamored of the attention she receives or what it says about herself or the world in how she gets it, yet can be surprised to enjoy being desired again, a feeling she thought she lost with her husband’s passing and being able to impart the same lessons to the world that were previously only heard by her class is equally satisfying. There are outside threats to her as she gains as many enemies as fans online and even some of the fans, such as a gangster Guchhi pays for protection, become unruly in wanting to know more about the enigmatic Wakhri, but the drama finds the greatest tension existing inside its lead character who starts to recognize for as much freedom as she believed she had as working widow, she didn’t have to deprive herself the joy of being a woman to feel as if she’s the fierce feminist she’s always been and true liberation will come on her terms when she doesn’t censor herself on any front.
The notion of passion and propriety aren’t mutually exclusive may come later to Noor, but have long been central to Bilal’s work and “Wakhri,” like “I’ll Meet You There” before it where a police investigation could be organically interrupted by dance numbers when its central cop’s daughter starts to take Kathak lessons, employs the central location of Guchhi’s club to immediately bring vibrant colors and music into the mix in spite of the serious story at hand. That energy becomes more crucial as the film increasingly veers towards the melodramatic and Bilal isn’t afraid of inspiring big emotions, whether in celebration or in tragedy and for that, the filmmaker seems particularly well-suited for the tale of someone judged by everyone for her appearance, including herself, and requires shaking things up to look a bit deeper.
“Wakhri (One of a Kind)” does not yet have U.S. distribution.