It was a few months before release. I followed any news that met me on Facebook, excitedly awaiting the upcoming release. As it began to run in film festivals, I was on the lookout for a date I could see it, turning a tint of green when other cities were getting to see it. When it came to Chicago, I happened to be visiting and was all set to go to its showing, but an emergency at home warped my plans.
Over a year passed as I grinned earnestly at every award it won, every headline it made, every praise it earned, but I still hadn’t seen it. Now, I’ve still not read the seventh book of Harry Potter, so I’m not really in awe of my patience on that length, but I do feel things have their correct, awe-some timing.
I’ve only had a few exchanges with Hammad over the years, all very valuable ones. Ironically none of them were during high school and being in the same dorm. I recognized him at an event back home many years ago and we talked. It’s when I learned he was pursuing filmmaking. I’ve been pretty delighted about that since then. A second time was when my own parents were retiring and he was doing the photography at their farewell dinner. The last one was when he actually wasn’t even there. His mom was. I recognized her at a community wedding last month and introduced myself as a former classmate of his. The remainder of the time I told her how thrilled it makes me to see his success. She told me, “I asked Hammad, where did this idea come from in your mind, and he said to me ‘when I was a kid, we’d visit Pakistan, and I’d always see them being treated differently. And I always had this question in my mind—why?”
Over a month passed until a few days ago, I saw that Rani was up for the PBS Film Festival vote. When I saw a link to watch it, my patience let up and blew me a kiss on its way out into the atmosphere. I was midway into doing something else at that time, but pressed play and forgot to even sit down in its duration.
Rani was much more than I expected. All these months passed and somehow I got away with not actually knowing anything about the plot except that Rani is from the Khawaja-Sira community and sells children’s toys.
Being Pakistani myself, having visited Karachi nearly every year for the majority of my life, the live exposure to this community hasn’t made the difference the first scene of this film made. It’s skillfully been written to identify the main character and make one thing clear to the audience: this is a human—someone who feels, someone who gets hurt and is affected by a society that refuses to acknowledge her as an equal.
The stunning and for lack of better words, very accurate shots of Pakistan not only set the proper tone but help present to us the realities that exist for others in the places that are home to us.
Kami Sid’s performance is overwhelmingly moving. Throughout the film, it’s easy to relate to her and her experiences, and be in awe of her strength and courage as she treads through a series of difficult decisions with her head and spirit soaring high.
Needless to say, I ended it in tears and I kept going for several minutes after. I liked the very personal route this film takes. It focuses on a very specific community, in a very specific part of the world, furthermore into a very specific individual’s story. Rani obviously sheds light on an issue that has been seldom focused on—rather, even paid divided attention to—but what it accomplishes is much larger. It takes us back to the true nature of what we should be. We ourselves become more human overall after seeing Rani. In addition to viewing the injustice on this particular issue with sharper vision, Rani puts us in the shoes of every oppressed individual. It brings us in tune with another person’s inside, by using our own inside.
Hammad Rizvi brings us not only a message of inclusion, but a lasting call for empathy—something our world today needs more than anything else.
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[image from imdb.com]
Watch the film here for a limited time and vote for it on the PBS Film Festival site below!
PBS FILM FESTIVAL
https://www.pbs.org/filmfestival/2019-festival/ (scroll down to ‘Rani’)