It is widely believed that the devil is locked away in the month of Ramazan. He is not alone. Temporarily jailed with the devil are domestically produced feature films. However, come Eidul Fitr, a time of festivities and box office clashes, Pakistani audiences will see what they’ve always seen — a hodgepodge mix of releases that will, undoubtedly, make you wonder: Why, oh why?

Cashing-in on Eid has been every filmmaker’s dream, irrespective of whether it makes sense to release his/her film at that time. As if that weren’t enough, of late, every Eid film ends up evoking an uncanny feeling of having seen something similar. Is it the similarity of genre, setting, tone, or the uneasy and vague predisposition of having seen a better or worse version of the film before?

Perhaps it is the by-the-book, flat colour palette of the film, you wonder? Or you argue with yourself that given the restrictions in budget, Pakistani filmmakers can only afford to make routine rom-coms, or dramas centered on frolic-y weddings (or weddings of any sort, for that matter).

In retrospect, there’s a bright side to everything — but only if you ponder harder than usual. The two most common conclusions any layman would come to is: 1) we don’t have film-worthy ideas; and 2) we definitely don’t know how to make movies.

It may seem like we’re condemned to seeing the same type of films every Eid and the rush for the cluttered release slot doesn’t even make that much sense. Nevertheless, here’s what we have to look forward to in the coming months

With Bollywood out of the game, at least until September when the Indian government settles down after elections and the doors are (hopefully) reopened to a lucrative business market, cinemas have to make do with Pakistani-produced fodder and the usual Hollywood fare.

The latter, although a constant presence all-year-round, historically, doesn’t do well at this time of the year — but that may change.

June 4 (the presumed date for Eid releases) has two major Hollywood titles competing for screen space. The first is Aladdin, a live-action remake of one of the most popular Disney animated films of all time directed by Guy Ritchie (Snatch, Sherlock Holmes), starring Will Smith as the blue-skinned Genie — a role of sheer rousing extravagance immortalised by the late Robin Williams.

The second is Godzilla: King of Monsters, a continuation of Warner Bros.’ monster-verse, which will continue the following year with Godzilla battling King Kong (as is the nature of connected sequels, it doesn’t take the genius of Solomon to realise that Godzilla will live to fight another day after King of Monsters).

From Pakistan, we have three done-to-death formula flicks: Chhalawa, Wrong No. 2 and Tum Hee To Ho (THTO).

Chhalawa, starring Mehwish Hayat and Azfar Rehman, is a romantic drama aping Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (or a poor man’s version of Punjab Nahin Jaungi), that, in its creative zenith, wants the viewers to “Fall in Love, Organically.”

For those scratching their heads, writer-director Wajahat Rauf (Karachi Se Lahore, Lahore Se Aagey) is referring to a natural, unadulterated, sense of non-stop frolic. But the term is as far as Rauf goes creatively. His idea, unimaginatively, pillages the corniest of clichés: the film industry’s fascination with rural settings, rich households, Punjabi weddings and a hero who masquerades his way into a nuptial, hoping to whisk away the heroine before she is married off to a less-than-ideal suitor.

Wrong No. 2, directed by Yasir Nawaz, is the seemingly unconnected sequel to his debut feature film, that was, at that time, a massive box-office draw. Retaining his brand of loud, uncouth comedy, Nawaz’s film — starring Sami Khan, Neelam Muneer, Jawed Sheikh and Nawaz himself in key roles — will, undoubtedly, run wild for the first week or so, or until its main audience — the adherents of boorish jokes — have had their fill.

Despite their foreseeable shortcomings, both Chhalawa and Wrong No. 2 will likely be adequate time passes. Fingers crossed.

THTO, a romance-drama, directed by Sangeeta and starring Danish Taimoor, Qurat-ul-Ain and Mathira, is, however, another story. The film feels out of step with what today’s cine-going audience demands. This is not the first time THTO has announced its release date, either. This long-gestating project has consistently threatened to come out on Eid over the last two years, but for reasons known only to the film’s producers, backs away at the last moment.

Domestic cinema is stuck in a time-loop with repeating genres, matching narrative approaches — and nine times out of ten — indistinguishable colour grades. With little originality in content and trite, play-it-safe release strategies, is it any wonder why footfalls have dwindled to such a drastic degree.

One eye-catching title, that may come out on Eid, yet isn’t exactly an Eid release by any measure (and I’ll get to why in a moment), is Saqib Malik’s Baaji, starring Meera, Osman Khalid Butt, Ali Kazmi and Amna Illyas.

Another title that’s out of the contest, for the next few months at least, including the next Eid, is The Legend of Maula Jatt — a massively hyped tent-pole film that may create new benchmarks in Pakistan.

Despite hush-hush speculation of Jatt coming out in July (I doubt it will come out this year), the delay elicits déjà vu.

Earlier, Jatt director Bilal Lashari’s last film Waar (2013, the first major blockbuster in the true sense of the word in this new phase of Pakistani cinema) was also delayed umpteen times before launching unexpectedly in an untested season. Back then, people were easily hoodwinked by less-than-stellar cinema.

By the time you read this, Ramazan will be right round the bend — meaning films, no matter where they are from, will have to amp-up their release strategy.

Ra­mazan, unf­ortunately, brings its own share of snarl-ups to a market that still needs to plan its annual slate with careful contemplation. The month’s religious nature forces distributors and television partners to halt publicity campaigns for, at least, the first two weeks. The campaigns, then, impetuously pick up pace in the last 10 days of the month.

Even then, it’s a publicist’s nightmare. Those among the masses who may still be able to afford today’s high ticket prices, have their attention diverted to religious nights, last-minute shopping sprees and late-night hangouts. Easily forgotten, amateurishly cut trailers are another problem (the art of cutting a trailer is still lost to us).

Wrong No. 2 and Chhalawa’s trailer literally spell out the entire movie, beat for narrative beat, retaining little to no surprises. THTO, while more vague, tells you all you need to know to make up your mind on what the film may be about, or to be precise, how it may aesthetically turn out.

Baaji, a rare exception to the lot, whets your appetite with a proper teaser trailer, and what may be a well-rounded narrative.

While some may say that paralleling romantic comedies with high-concept dramas is akin to comparing apples to oranges — but I’m going to do it anyway. Out of all impending releases, Malik’s film is the only title with an intriguing aesthetic and technical appeal.

Still, it remains a mystery why people haven’t immediately identified Malik’s main source of inspiration: classic Hollywood — 1950’s All About Eve and, as confirmed by Malik himself, Sunset Boulevard, also from 1950.

Malik’s stimulus runs far and wide, and while the industry may, unfairly, rave and compare Baaji with Bollywood films from Madhur Bhandarkar (director of Page 3, Heroine), it will turn out to be a raw, captivating beast that smacks of classic Hollywood.

Believe me, this is a high compliment — and one that may resonate with the audience by the time of release. I’m estimating a box-office draw of 150 million rupees, if released on the right date with the marketing machine taking its back. This is irrespective of whether the film comes out on Eid or not.

Wrong No. 2 and Chhalawa also fall within the 100 to 150 million-plus rupees gross estimate, depending on how good their word of mouth is, and whether their media partners really up their game. If these two titles are truly original, or rip-roaringly funny, or pull at the right emotional chords, then touching the 200 million rupee mark is not entirely out of the question.

That, and they better have ear-catching soundtracks (Chhalawa, despite its clichéd storyline, has an irresistible soundtrack). Music, with rare exception, hasn’t been high on any distributor’s publicity checklist of late, primarily because the songs (mostly with shoehorned item numbers) are average at best.

Eid — especially Eidul Fitr — then, is not always the right time to release a high profile film, as Ali Zafar and Ahsan Rahim proved last year with Teefa in Trouble. If the film has the right ingredients to keep people hooked, late June and the entire month of July are advisable alternates.

With distributors cramming their wares into a weekend-and-a-half of either Eid, fighting desperately to secure every available screen at hand, Pakistani productions end up head-butting each other.

Under these circumstances, scheduling films during summer holidays shows prudence. Given the spread of titles, the audience would have a reason to keep turning up to watch films. If, that is, the films have some merit to begin with.

Thankfully, Hollywood’s summer’s line-up until August throws indispensable support for the still-fledging industry, with The Secret Life of Pets 2, X-Men: Dark Phoenix, Men in Black: International, Toy Story 4, Annabelle Comes Home, Spider-Man: Far from Home, Lion King and Hobbs and Shaw, all slated for release.

So far, the only Pakistani film intelligent enough to sway away from the crowd with a July 19 release date is Ready Steady No (RSN), a small-budget oddball comedy that had been in production for two years. The plot has an eloping couple, their lawyer and a maulvi on the run.

With almost negligible star power (the film stars Amna Illyas, making her a consistent film face), RSN recently debuted its teaser and trailer within a span of two days, and seems to have a carefree attitude towards its narrative. Although clichéd to death, the trailer was an improvement on its teaser.

But then again, that’s the state of movies. Domestic cinema is stuck in a time-loop with repeating genres, matching narrative approaches — and nine times out of ten — indistinguishable colour grades. With little originality in content and trite, play-it-safe release strategies, is it any wonder why footfalls have dwindled to such a drastic degree (and no, we cannot argue that Avengers: Endgame broke all records; that film has a 10-year legacy to fall back on).

Sensibly speaking, in a time of economic crunch, it pays to have low expectations. That way, slightly above-average films will seem like a godsend and, when they succeed, if even by the most negligible of margins, we will end up getting more of the same next year.

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 5th, 2019