I noticed an older woman in her mid-fifties dawdling on the sidelines of the protest, watching intently. As Feroze Khan disappeared inside the cinema she walked up to the protestors. “I’m proud of you,” she said to them. “More power to you, especially the girls.”
Inside, whatever buzz that’d dominated the red carpet had dissipated. Celebrities who’d chosen to attend the premiere were already tucked away in their assigned cinemas, which, when I popped in to inspect, I found half-full.
If I’d been officially invited to watch Teefa would I have sat through the film? I’m not sure. I won’t, however, buy a ticket to watch the film as part of a general audience, so I appear to have missed my shot.
Some may say that people like me, people who choose to not buy tickets and therefore not financially reward Teefa In Trouble’s creators and beneficiaries – are being unfair to the film.
This couldn’t be further from the truth, and I’d argue that the protests that have marked Teefa in Trouble’s release are not really even about Teefa.
When people protest Teefa in Trouble what they’re really protesting is a culture of harassment that we’ve become far too comfortable with.
What they’re really protesting is a lack of accountability within the circle that calls itself Pakistan’s entertainment industry, an industry accused of consistently valuing the bottom line over the promotion of healthier, fairer, more egalitarian discourse.
What I’m really protesting is the silence of those in the entertainment industry who have in their hands the power to move the needle but have chosen to do nothing instead.
The monolithic 'Pakistani film industry' does not exist. It is a myth used to silence victims In April of this year popstar Meesha Shafi accused actor and musician Ali Zafar of sexually harassing her. Zafar denied the allegations. A few days later, more women came forward to accuse Zafar of harassment. Zafar filed a defamation suit against Meesha, Meesha revealed she'd filed a sexual harassment claim against Zafar. Zafar has not yet responsed to the allegations made by other women.
And all the while, preparations were underway for Zafar's biggest film project, Teefa in Trouble , to hit screens across Pakistan on July 20.
Following Meesha Shafi’s accusation that Ali Zafar sexually harassed her, I’ve seen a lot of flawed logic thrown about on social media, at industry events, at social gatherings.
One argument people use to shut down any mention of Ali Zafar or harassment weaponizes patriotism. It goes: if you don’t support Teefa , you’re bringing Pakistan’s film industry down.
If you usually cow in the face of this argument, let me assure you that you shouldn’t.
Why should I reward a 'film industry' that doesn't protect its own?
This is because there is no such thing as a monolithic ‘Pakistani film industry.’ People invoke this ‘film industry’ only when they want to disempower individuals in favour of commercial interests.
This ‘Pakistani film industry,’ referred to so pityingly, is not a faceless entity or a hapless offshore corporation. Is it a group of individuals and its output is likewise shaped by the choices of those individuals. If we fail to protect the individuals within that system from harassment, can we really claim to be acting in the interests of the system?
I don’t think so.
Yet that is exactly what is happening in Pakistan.
Anyone who is associated with the entertainment industry has heard whispers and rumours about misbehavior ranging from contract breaches to sexual misconduct. Certain names pop up more than others. But no one wants to talk about it ‘on the record’ because they’ve internalised the entertainment industry’s ‘code of silence’ – a code that prioritises projects and payments over an individual’s rights or well-being.