It is a good movie but a bit unrealistic. Must watch for the performances of Sanam Saeed and Sajid Hassan.
2 Reviews
Good movie
khurramh11 May 2020
Excellent Shakespeare adaptation + gripping storytelling
shabanahfazal7 April 2019
Excellent independent British-Pakistani film that deserves far more viewings and publicity. 'Rahm' (Mercy) is a clever, compelling 2016 adaptation of Shakespeare's 'Measure for Measure'. It tells the story of a wise but overly lenient Duke, whose zealous, puritanical deputy is put in temporary charge and condemns a man to death, to be spared only if his devout sister submits to him sexually. The tale has been transposed to an imaginary modern day old Lahore, Pakistan's cultural capital, ruled by a governor who has allowed vice in the form of brothels and corruption to run riot. The central characters are impressively played by accomplished Pakistani actors. Sajid Hasan brings the right degree of kindly gravitas to the role of governor (Duke), Sunil Shanker captures the sinister charisma of Qazi (Angelo), Rohail Pirzada the human weakness of the condemned brother Qasim (Claudio) and Sanam Saeed the pious passion and dignified self-control of his sister Sameena (Isabella).
It's a play I'm very familiar with, having studied and taught it at college level. Though fascinating in terms of themes and characters, it is categorised in Shakespeare's oeuvre as a 'problem play'. It is rarely staged these days, because of its mix of tones and genre elements that are hard for a contemporary western audience to take. But I found it actually worked far better in a Pakistani Islamic setting than a contemporary western one, because of the close parallels with the Elizabethan world of Puritan hypocrisy, corruption of power and sexual honour. Perhaps its most powerful theme is the struggle between mercy and justice: in the film governor and deputy perfectly embody the tension between home grown Sufi traditions of tolerance and compassion, and the increasing infiltration into Pakistan of an extreme punitive Saudi Islamic ideology.
A key problem for western audiences has traditionally been sympathising with the pious sister (a nun in the original play) determined to preserve her chastity, even at the cost of her brother's life. The recent London Donmar Warehouse stage production succeeded by putting her story into the context of the 'Me Too' movement of women standing up to the abuse of power by males. In the film, her stance is even more credible not just because she's defending her honour as a Muslim woman, but also like many younger, educated Muslim women these days, asserting a new knowledge of her rights within Islam. The play's plot, though gripping, can also seem implausible at times and strains credibility in the second half with the infamous 'bed trick'. In the film though, it's far more convincing and easier to suspend our disbelief because the women's faces are veiled. The few changes to the original made complete sense to me - for example, couples being Islamically married (minus paperwork), rather than engaged. I loved the very closing shots, which created a subtler and less problematic ending than in the play, giving me much food for thought. And inevitably, to get past Pakistani censors, the script had to ignore many obscure, obscene jokes told by the more streetwise characters in the original (they barely translate well even into modern English, the humour usually being lost on a modern audience). However, veteran Pakistani TV actor Nayyar Ejaz, as Qasim's dissipated friend (Lucio in the play) still manages to capture his character's comic irreverence and gets his come-uppance through a visually entertaining gag. What's more, replacing the play's clownish pimp Pompey with a scene-stealing hijra (transsexual) character Gulzar provides more interesting, subversive comic relief.
I saw the film at a festival of independent Pakistani film, and we were lucky enough to have a Q & A afterwards with the creators, British-based director Ahmed Jamal and his brother producer/writer Mahmood Jamal. They are lovers of both Shakespeare and Sufi culture, and the film is clearly a labour of love: it took 8 years to make, was shot on a very limited budget in just 27 days, and it was a tough fight to get distribution in Pakistan. Thankfully, their dedication paid off eventually and the film will also be screened on Channel 4 in the UK and released on DVD. Mahmood, a poet who has written and translated a great deal of Urdu poetry into English, said he wanted to keep his English-subtitled Urdu script faithful to the poetry and spirit of the original. And he succeeds admirably, with many echoes, paraphrases and even direct translations of Shakespeare's lines. Not surprising then that 'Rahm' won Best Adapted Screenplay at the 2017 London Film Festival, as well as other Pakistani awards.
Some reviews have complained of a lack of depth to the characters. I understand what they mean, but in my view, the script portrays their essential qualities economically and like other new Pakistani independent films, relies more on quality acting from performers, many from their highly acclaimed TV dramas. A few other reviews have suggested Rahm is more of a TV than a cinema film. True, it's not obviously cinematically adventurous, but the new wave of independent Pakistani directors are still struggling with tiny budgets and access to technical expertise. Above all though, the Jamal brothers have wisely focused on clear, intelligent storytelling: like Shoaib Mansoor's 'Bol', we have a strong heroine fighting abusive, powerful men, but unlike that film, 'Rahm' is more restrained. This makes for gripping viewing, and works for those who know the play well or those new to it. The audience I saw it with was 50-50 white/Asian - all levels of Shakespearean knowledge and none - and judging from the spontaneous ringing applause at the end, everyone loved it. In fact, it was all the better for the brothers' decision not to go down the art-house route, but instead to create a quality commercial film with dual international/Indian subcontinental appeal.
Anyone who enjoyed the Indian film adaptations of Shakespeare 'Omkara' ('Othello'), 'Haider' ('Hamlet') and 'Maqbool' ('Macbeth') should definitely check out 'Rahm'. I've seen them all and this is far superior: not only is it much more faithful but it avoids their masala elements, instead weaving in more authentic Sufi qawwali music and traditional dance of Lahore courtesans. Ahmed Jamal is clearly familiar with the shady charm of old Lahore, its winding streets, colonial architecture and the red light area of Hira Mandi. He celebrates the old city in 'Rahm' almost as a character in its own right, revisiting places he first captured on screen in his TV documentary 'The Dancing Girls of Lahore'. I enjoyed watching it many years ago, and it was a pleasant surprise to discover he had shot that too.
A film that made a powerful impression on me. Highly recommended.
It's a play I'm very familiar with, having studied and taught it at college level. Though fascinating in terms of themes and characters, it is categorised in Shakespeare's oeuvre as a 'problem play'. It is rarely staged these days, because of its mix of tones and genre elements that are hard for a contemporary western audience to take. But I found it actually worked far better in a Pakistani Islamic setting than a contemporary western one, because of the close parallels with the Elizabethan world of Puritan hypocrisy, corruption of power and sexual honour. Perhaps its most powerful theme is the struggle between mercy and justice: in the film governor and deputy perfectly embody the tension between home grown Sufi traditions of tolerance and compassion, and the increasing infiltration into Pakistan of an extreme punitive Saudi Islamic ideology.
A key problem for western audiences has traditionally been sympathising with the pious sister (a nun in the original play) determined to preserve her chastity, even at the cost of her brother's life. The recent London Donmar Warehouse stage production succeeded by putting her story into the context of the 'Me Too' movement of women standing up to the abuse of power by males. In the film, her stance is even more credible not just because she's defending her honour as a Muslim woman, but also like many younger, educated Muslim women these days, asserting a new knowledge of her rights within Islam. The play's plot, though gripping, can also seem implausible at times and strains credibility in the second half with the infamous 'bed trick'. In the film though, it's far more convincing and easier to suspend our disbelief because the women's faces are veiled. The few changes to the original made complete sense to me - for example, couples being Islamically married (minus paperwork), rather than engaged. I loved the very closing shots, which created a subtler and less problematic ending than in the play, giving me much food for thought. And inevitably, to get past Pakistani censors, the script had to ignore many obscure, obscene jokes told by the more streetwise characters in the original (they barely translate well even into modern English, the humour usually being lost on a modern audience). However, veteran Pakistani TV actor Nayyar Ejaz, as Qasim's dissipated friend (Lucio in the play) still manages to capture his character's comic irreverence and gets his come-uppance through a visually entertaining gag. What's more, replacing the play's clownish pimp Pompey with a scene-stealing hijra (transsexual) character Gulzar provides more interesting, subversive comic relief.
I saw the film at a festival of independent Pakistani film, and we were lucky enough to have a Q & A afterwards with the creators, British-based director Ahmed Jamal and his brother producer/writer Mahmood Jamal. They are lovers of both Shakespeare and Sufi culture, and the film is clearly a labour of love: it took 8 years to make, was shot on a very limited budget in just 27 days, and it was a tough fight to get distribution in Pakistan. Thankfully, their dedication paid off eventually and the film will also be screened on Channel 4 in the UK and released on DVD. Mahmood, a poet who has written and translated a great deal of Urdu poetry into English, said he wanted to keep his English-subtitled Urdu script faithful to the poetry and spirit of the original. And he succeeds admirably, with many echoes, paraphrases and even direct translations of Shakespeare's lines. Not surprising then that 'Rahm' won Best Adapted Screenplay at the 2017 London Film Festival, as well as other Pakistani awards.
Some reviews have complained of a lack of depth to the characters. I understand what they mean, but in my view, the script portrays their essential qualities economically and like other new Pakistani independent films, relies more on quality acting from performers, many from their highly acclaimed TV dramas. A few other reviews have suggested Rahm is more of a TV than a cinema film. True, it's not obviously cinematically adventurous, but the new wave of independent Pakistani directors are still struggling with tiny budgets and access to technical expertise. Above all though, the Jamal brothers have wisely focused on clear, intelligent storytelling: like Shoaib Mansoor's 'Bol', we have a strong heroine fighting abusive, powerful men, but unlike that film, 'Rahm' is more restrained. This makes for gripping viewing, and works for those who know the play well or those new to it. The audience I saw it with was 50-50 white/Asian - all levels of Shakespearean knowledge and none - and judging from the spontaneous ringing applause at the end, everyone loved it. In fact, it was all the better for the brothers' decision not to go down the art-house route, but instead to create a quality commercial film with dual international/Indian subcontinental appeal.
Anyone who enjoyed the Indian film adaptations of Shakespeare 'Omkara' ('Othello'), 'Haider' ('Hamlet') and 'Maqbool' ('Macbeth') should definitely check out 'Rahm'. I've seen them all and this is far superior: not only is it much more faithful but it avoids their masala elements, instead weaving in more authentic Sufi qawwali music and traditional dance of Lahore courtesans. Ahmed Jamal is clearly familiar with the shady charm of old Lahore, its winding streets, colonial architecture and the red light area of Hira Mandi. He celebrates the old city in 'Rahm' almost as a character in its own right, revisiting places he first captured on screen in his TV documentary 'The Dancing Girls of Lahore'. I enjoyed watching it many years ago, and it was a pleasant surprise to discover he had shot that too.
A film that made a powerful impression on me. Highly recommended.
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