Saim Sadiq’s Joyland confronts LGBTQ phobia in South Asia, basks in love’s luminous glory

In a dimly lit room, a green laser projects thousands of star-like dots which gather and disperse at regular intervals. The dots form beautiful patterns on walls — a flower, a star and a rose. Bathing in the laser light are Haider and Biba, the protagonists of Joyland, the first Pakistani film to be shortlisted by the Oscars.

Haider confesses to Biba that he has never been to a beach. She says, “kabhi ticket kata ke Karachi jaa. Tenu bhi pata chale…aena vada samundar, te insaan inna chota (Book a ticket to Karachi and visit a beach. You’ll see how big the sea is and how small we are)”. Much like the green projections on the walls, Biba and Haider come close in a moment of fleeting sexual intimacy but soon drift apart.

Directed by Saim Sadiq, Joyland, which received a thundering twelve-minute standing ovation at the Cannes film festival last year, is now available to stream in India after much delay and a stalled theatrical release. Haider (Ali Junejo), who falls in love with Biba (Alina Khan), a transwoman and an erotic dancer, does not conform to the societal norms of masculinity.

Also read: How ‘Joyland,’ Pakistan’s Oscars entry, breaks taboos, tackles homophobia

He is unemployed and spends his time helping with house chores, a role that is often delegated to women in patriarchal families. He cannot sacrifice lambs without flinching, much to the dismay of his father, Rana Amanullah (Salmaan Peerzada), who wants his young son to toughen up like his brother, Saleem (Sohail Sameer). In a scene, Rana takes a dig at Haider’s sexual prowess, insinuating that he isn’t capable of satisfying Mumtaz, his wife, who hasn’t borne a child yet.

Portrayal of queer desire

Attacks on Haider’s gender identity and sexual orientation, both by his family and his homophobic friends, don’t seem to faze him. He falls in love with Biba when he spots her at an erotic theatre in Lahore. Soon, the plot begins to unravel, we discover Mumtaz and Haider are in a sexless marriage and Haider is attracted to Biba.

Joyland’s portrayal of queer desire is riveting. In one scene, Biba takes off Haider’s shirt and asks him to perform a dance routine on the rooftop where the two are rehearsing for a show. She sits back and watches Haider stumble through the routine as he slowly regains his confidence and feels comfortable being naked in public. The queer gaze is strong in this scene — as it is in most scenes where Biba trains her background dancers. She is the one calling the shots and making cisgender heterosexual men dance to her tune.

The men, of course, rebel, use transphobic slurs in her absence, but wouldn’t dare cross her during rehearsals. Biba owns her identity and shames those who shame her for being herself. Meanwhile, she also inspires confidence in Haider which is evident from the scene in the metro where he sits beside her to protect her from transphobic women.

Biba and her trans friends openly discuss their sexual encounters. In one scene filmed at a trans wedding, Biba tells her friend about Haider’s poor skills in bed. We see Sadiq create a safe space in Biba’s home where she stays with her Guruji and her trans friends. Here, sexcapades are not discussed in hushed tones but openly.

No happily-ever-after story

While homophobia and transphobia exist in Joyland, they are background noise at best. The conversations that men have backstage are mostly inaudible and indistinguishable. We know there are sexist slurs being thrown around but we don’t find out what is exactly being said unless it is absolutely necessary. Bigotry exists in Sadiq’s world but it is given as much importance as a device to further the plot.

Halfway through the film, you might find yourself rooting for Biba and Haider. Perhaps, you have already figured out by now that the final scene will show Haider and Biba walking into the sea together. Perhaps, you have already pictured Haider breaking free from his family and living happily ever after with Biba. Wrong.

Also read: Pakistan bans release of Oscar contender ‘Joyland’ for its ‘objectionable material’

The film doesn’t cater to the expectations of non-queer folks who wish to see a happily-ever-after mushy queer love story. Soon, we discover that Biba, despite being outspoken and seemingly woke, is a homophobe. When Haider reveals himself to be a receptive partner in a sexual encounter, Haider and Biba’s relationship goes for a toss.

Complexity of queer relationships

Biba, on realising she cannot meet Haider’s expectations, uses homophobic slurs targeting him and throws him out of her room. At this point, Joyland plays with the preconceived notions most of us have while watching queer love stories. Biba is no queer idol. She is problematic, has flaws, but that only makes her human.

She is saving money for her gender affirmation surgery, which will surely jeopardize her relationship with Haider. After parting ways with Haider, she goes on to become a successful theatre artist and is now perhaps just as arrogant and problematic as her rival, Shabbo.

By not painting an unrealistically rosy picture of queer love, Sadiq shows just how complex queer relationships can be in a South Asian context where poverty, patriarchy, homophobia and transphobia all conspire to stop queer folks from finding companionship. The fruition of love which seemed imminent never happens. On the contrary, Mumtaz, Haider’s wife, dies by suicide — she knows Haider might never accept his sexuality or be a father to her child.

Eventually, Haider does walk into the ocean, except contrary to expectations, he is alone. Much like the green laser dots which disperse and gather, Haider has gathered pieces of himself and found his voice — he stood up against his brother and has now come to terms with his sexual identity. In its pursuit to celebrate queerness, Joyland stays rooted in the harsh realities of being a queer person in South Asia. This alone is the film’s biggest win.

Joyland is available for rent on BookMyShow Stream and Amazon Prime Video.