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Apr 09, 2023 By Zachary Orwan Web Exclusive

It is difficult to write about a socially-conscious film like Joyland without giving the impression it may be a slog– a typical “Issues Movie”. Director Saim Sadiq’s debut feature, which follows a sweet but ineffectual married man developing feelings for a trans woman in Lahore, Pakistan, is so much more than one of those well-meaning films that too often succumb to cliché and preachiness, getting their points across at the sacrifice of artistry and enjoyment. For that reason, allow me to state clearly and early that beyond Joyland’s impressive depth and nuance in its depiction of transphobia and misogyny in an oppressive society, this is a film bursting with energy, charisma, humor, and beauty– an exciting work of cinema and a shot to the heart that lingers long.

We meet Haider (Ali Junejo in a stunning film debut) staggering blindly around the family home he shares with his aging father (veteran actor Salmaan Peerzada), brother (Sohail Sameer), sister-in-law (Sarwat Gilani), their three young daughters, and his wife Mumtaz (Rasti Farooq). He timidly shuffles forward with outstretched arms, a sheet draped over his head. We soon come to understand that he is merely searching for his nieces in a game of “Marco Polo”, but the metaphor is apt: Haider is so alienated by his world’s rigid expectations of him as a man that he can barely see to function. Much to his father’s chagrin, his wife works as a makeup artist while he stays home and tends the house and children, an unacceptable reversal. One afternoon when the local butcher is a no-show and a goat must be slaughtered, it is Mumtaz who takes the blade from a quaking Haider and does what needs to be done.

Attempting to course correct, Haider takes it upon himself to find a job and discovers the only viable option is at an erotic dance theater in Joyland, Lahore’s amusement park (think more elaborate costuming, lip-syncing and hip swaying than g-strings and dollar bills). He tells his family he is managing the theater, but in truth he is hired as a backup dancer for Biba (Alina Khan), a trans performer who dances during intermissions, desperate to further her career. Biba is confident, demanding, and even conniving, but Haider sees through her hardened professional persona. He is perhaps too out-of-touch with himself for it to be love at first sight, but Haider is undeniably drawn to Biba, eventually surrendering to his curiosity and awakened sexual desire.

What is already a recipe for disaster is further complicated when Mumtaz discovers she is pregnant, and with a boy at that (a misread ultrasound gives way to colossal disappointment earlier in the film when Haider’s sister-in-law gives birth to a fourth daughter). Joyland understands transphobia as an extension of misogyny, and masterfully connects its characters through this ingrained devaluing and hatred of women. Biba is the most outcast, facing persecution among the patrons of a nightclub, as well as her own dancers, and being hassled on public transportation, which is segregated between men and women (a lesser film may have turned this moment into a powerful act of defiance with swelling music to match– Sadiq demands we sit with the reality that this is simply Biba’s daily existence).

Mumtaz too is heartbroken when Haider’s employment means she must quit her job and become a housewife, and furthermore, she’s devastated when the only time anyone expresses true enthusiasm regarding her existence is upon hearing she is having a son. A kind neighbor (a scene-stealing performance from Sania Saeed) who stays the night with Haider’s father during a sudden bout of infirmity, must then be shunned, as this has shameful implications in their community. Somehow each character is both afforded compassion and held accountable. Even Biba, upon realizing she and Haider’s desires are not completely aligned, displays the ugliness of which she is capable.

Though Junejo and Farooq’s soulful, earnest performances are standouts, my hat is off to Sadiq in directing one of the strongest, most grounded ensembles in memory. Every role shines and organically fits within this family and story. Some have said that Joyland’s forays into smaller characters’ lives cause the film to lose focus, but I disagree. If this film seeks to indict anything, it is a cruel society and how that society’s ills affect and infect everyone within. Sadiq takes the time to show that. Cinematographer Joe Saade brings color and movement to the screen in equal measure with bleakness and foreboding. His framing of the aforementioned goat slaughter; of Haider lingering in an alleyway bathed in yellow light; of a ritual washing of feet, are artful and inspired. Rarely does a film possess such a sense of place as Haider’s home does here.

The first time I saw Joyland at TIFF, I felt reservations about the protagonist of a film on this subject being a cisgender man. Upon rewatching I feel that, while the marketing of Joyland leans heavily on it being a trans love story, the film itself is just as much about Haider discovering his identity as a queer person. For this filmmaker, I believe this is the appropriate way to tell this story. If I have an issue, it is that the revelation of Mumtaz’s pregnancy feels forced– a slightly manipulative heightening of melodrama– in a movie that has been so real. There’s a current online debate as to whether sex scenes actually have a function in movies, and I think the absence of one between Haider and Mumtaz here advocates for their necessity. Surely a glimpse into this couple’s physical relationship, undoubtedly fraught and less-than-fulfilling, would have been a welcome inclusion.

Despite receiving a jury prize at the Cannes Film Festival and being Pakistan’s first film shortlisted for the best international feature film Oscar, Joyland has had a bumpy road in its homeland. Deemed to be in conflict with Pakistani values, the nation’s right-wing party succeeded in having its release banned. Backlash from those in support of the film have seen that decision overturned in some of the country, though it still remains banned in the Punjab province, which includes Lahore, the city from which director Sadiq hails and in which the film is set. It is now being released in North America, and if you are fortunate enough to be near a theater showing it, I cannot recommend enough that you make the trip to Joyland.

Author rating: 9/10