Halfway through Sarmad Masud’s debut film. My Pure Land, a man rather hesitantly proposes marriage to a woman. She is not entirely against the idea, given that the two were promised to each other in childhood anyway, but she wants him to know that their union is conditional: “One, I won’t live with my in-laws. Two, I will be allowed to study and work. And three, there will be no restrictions on me travelling.” After a short back-and-forth, where the man threatens to take a second wife and then decides against it, he agrees to all her demands. “Okay then,” she says, stomping off triumphantly. It’s settled.
The woman is Nazo Dharejo and this scene captures her essence very well. Played in this quasi-biopic by Suhaee Abro, the villager has continually managed to live life on her own terms, never letting societal norms dictate her decisions. In that regard, the legend surrounding her has always been ripe for cinema and Masud, who has also written the script, does complete justice to it. The bulk of the plot revolves round a land dispute not uncommon to Pakistan. When Dharejo’s father was sent to jail for an unrelated offence, her uncle turned up with an army of 200 men to illegally claim the family home. Together with her sister and mother, Dharejo held the fort and managed to fend off the intruders through several shootouts. The men had clearly underestimated the women.
There’s a lot to admire in My Pure Land. The story is told in a simple fashion, without any unnecessary dialogue delivery or flashy, over-the-top treatment. It’s sleek and well put together, a minimalist war movie with rounded-out characters and thankfully no one-dimensional villains either. And while all the action scenes are integral to the tale and show off the girls’ gun-shooting skills (they were trained by their father), it’s the quieter moments, full of human emotion, that truly stand out. In one exceptional scene, the girls are reading a book in English and talking about future dreams and aspirations.
My Pure Land is a minimalist war movie with rounded-out characters and no one-dimensional villains
The film’s feminist credentials are apparent, even though Masud doesn’t beat the audience over the head with this point. The women are every bit as equal as the men and this is kept subtle and naturally interwoven into the narrative. After all, this is not only a battle over land, but it’s also a battle of the sexes, where the men simply cannot fathom how and why these women are able to resist. Well, if your parents teach you from childhood that “in this world, nothing is greater than your honour, not even your life,” then you will defend your land at any cost, no matter what your gender is.
Not everything works though. There are too many flashbacks and whenever the focus shifts from the present and goes to the father in prison, the pacing starts to jar. But this is only a minor flaw. In its entirety, My Pure Land is an assured first feature. The UK has selected it as its entry for the Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars and it’ll be interesting to see what Masud does next. The film is also a wonderful calling card for the assertive Abro, who carries the film elegantly on her shoulders. The last shot in particular is one for the ages.
Published in Dawn, ICON, October 8th, 2017
