KARACHI, June 13: Pakistan has a long tradition of over-the-top cinema, ranging from the cringe-worthy – think Haseena Atom Bomb – to those that have achieved cult status such as Maula Jutt which starred the unparalleled Sultan Rahi. Lollywood has given us a host of archetypal characters that cinema-savvy Pakistanis identify at a glance: the hero who will ultimately prevail, the all-powerful matriarch, the fallen woman who will finally redeem herself by sacrificing her life.

While these films have for decades been immensely popular with mainstream audiences, the more affluent or self-professedly ‘educated’ elites have consistently refused to own such cinema. Perhaps this is one of the reasons that such a clear divide exists between films screened in cinemas and those in local festivals, why some people call themselves ‘directors’ and others ‘film-makers’.

This is why Bubonic Film’s first full-length feature, Zibahkhana, comes as such a refreshing surprise. With a Karachi premier that kicked off on Tuesday, the film proved to draw on local cinematic traditions and convert them into a well-executed gore fest, which, significantly, bases its plot on issues relevant to Pakistan, such as polluted drinking water and class/culture divides.

Director Omar A. Khan, a self-professed fan of B-movies and slasher-zombie flicks, has also long been a Pakistani horror/action film aficionado. His film is simple in plot: a group of English-speaking boys and girls take an unauthorised road trip to attend a concert. They pass through an area where villagers have long been protesting against chemical pollutants in their water sources, and there are rumours of hideously deformed people. As night falls and they take an unfortunate short-cut, their worst nightmares come true: zombies, flesh-eating monsters, and finally, a mace-wielding serial killer.

What makes Zibahkhana unusual is that it manages to be relevant and outrageous at the same time, and comments on the issues that plague Pakistan without preaching. As Mr Khan commented at the premier, he did not set out to intentionally craft a “meaningful” film; he simply aimed to create cinematic entertainment, and one that would serve as his tribute to the local film industry. He and his team deserve credit, therefore, since the film succeeds on all counts.

The film’s cast also testifies to Khan’s commitment to Pakistani horror. In the role of Deewana, a chai-wallah who predicts our yuppies’ nasty end, is veteran actor Rehan who played Dracula in the Pakistani version of the Bram Stoker classic. Returning to the silver screen after a 30-year gap, Rehan has clearly lost nothing of his craft. Then, the shrouded serial killer is played by Sultan Billa, who was Sultan Rahi’s stunt double for years. Other actors have been drawn from local television and theatre, including Najma Malik, Kunwar Ali Roshan, Ashfaq Bhatti and Salim Meraj.

Like every good horror flick, Zibahkhana draws its grotesqueness from ordinary scenes and situations gone hideously wrong. The Blair Witch Project chilled the spines of its American audience through dark and impenetrable forests, a camping trip gone wrong. But in overpopulated Pakistan, particularly the Punjab, you are never more than a few kilometres away the nearest settlement. Accordingly Zibahkhana, which was shot in Islamabad and puts its main characters somewhere around the Lahore-Islamabad motorway, draws its thrills from the malang gone mad (and sporting a severed head), a mechanic’s workshop that proves to be a butchery and zombie villagers who are very far from being the smiling face of agricultural Pakistan. The crowning touch is the serial killer called Baby, whose face is hidden not behind a leather mask, as is common in western films, but a far, far more effective cultural symbol. I shouldn’t spoil the shock, but let’s just say that it’s recently become inextricably linked with Islamabad.

The film premiered at the NatFilm Festival in Denmark in March and has since been screened at the Philly Film Festival in the US, as well as Islamabad and Lahore. It is now set to do the circuit, including New York, Sitges, Montreal, Finland and Los Angles. Given that it is not slated for commercial release in Pakistan – though it ought to make the attempt – it may have been easy to claim that it is Pakistan’s first horror film. To their credit, the Zibahkhana team sought no such pretentiousness. It embraces the Lollywood (and other) traditions that inspired the film in the first place, and the screening was preceded by a Channel 4 documentary on horror cinema from India and Pakistan. This gave Zibahkhana context, linked it to its forerunners in the subcontinent and refused the “where no man has gone before” temptation with a shrug of the shoulder.

Zibahkhana is well worth a watch, even if you shy away from gore. With slick port-production work, a nicely chosen soundtrack and commendable acting all around, it represents what Pakistani cinema is capable of. Given that Khan has no formal association with the film or television industries – he is runs the The Hot Spot chain of ice cream joints – one can only wish that more directors would follow in his footsteps.