Echoes: JAVED IQBAL, The Netflix-Worthy Film Pakistan Already Had

A recent conversation in Pakistan has stirred concerns over Pakistani content being valuable enough to be allowed to stream on Netflix. Some local stars debated among themselves that Pakistani content is not ready to meet the standards of global streaming giants, due to the absence of widely relatable narratives or technical expertise.

One of the films that became a debate even before its release, however, somehow matches the content style that Netflix adopted in its documentaries years ago. Just like Taxali Gate (2024), Javed Iqbal: The Untold Story of a Serial Killer (2022) is a bold directorial endeavor from Abu Aleeha, which was banned two days before its scheduled release in theaters, despite initially getting censor approval. After a preview screening in Karachi, the government's Central Bureau of Film Censors decided otherwise, and it is now available to stream on YouTube.

Javed Iqbal is about a Lahore-based notorious killer of the same name who confessed to the police and media that he abducted, sexually abused, and murdered more than 100 boys between 1998 and 1999. He was arrested and sentenced to death, though he allegedly committed suicide after two years of his sentence. It was suspected that he was a part of a larger pedophile ring in operation, as per Deadline.

I was pleasantly surprised by the film's outrageous nature, which the Pakistan censorship board allowed to be viewed by the general public, especially after its recent YouTube release. It means the profanity, the criminal's obnoxious behavior while in police custody, and the bow-down-worthy performance from Yassir Hussain as Javed are open for anyone to watch from any corner of the world.

Now that four years have passed since the film's release, I am convinced to say that the film has true potential to be streamed on a global platform like Netflix due to its raw storytelling and close-to-reality facts. While we have seen the Monster series on Netflix, which is a dramatization based on the real-life killers, Javed Iqbal also remains one of the prime contenders in this regard.

The film's irony is the real reason that makes it relatable at this point. The moral lesson that we get to learn from the film is given by the killer himself. The film educates parents to take care of their kids and not let them roam around freely in the streets while they remain unaware of a predator like Javed Iqbal, lurking in the streets for his next prey.

Living quietly in the neighborhood, no one was able to spot him. While having molested 100 kids, Javed himself questioned the curiosity levels of the police officers and the system regarding whether any child was alive or not. He laughed at the system's inability to detect him, even after 10, 15, or even 50 missing children. What if he had gone on to kill more? Would he have been caught if he had not confessed to the crimes himself?

Some of the film's qualities match those of Netflix-based true crime films and limited series that have found global audiences. The film is based on a real case that shocked the public. It focuses on the perpetrator's mind and psychology, staying as close as Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs (1991) or Ed Gein in Monster: The Ed Gein Story (2025).

The director deliberately chose the pattern of the molester doing all the talking in front of the police. He wanted to show the perspective of the killer himself, aiming to examine police shortcomings, bureaucratic failures, and system issues. These elements are already visibly embedded in acclaimed true-crime dramas.

The commercial aesthetics were purposefully dropped to keep the realism alive. The film uses a mellow, realistic approach, closely aligning with Netflix's standing on true-crime dramas. The goal isn't to glorify the killer but to show the more human side of him as he continues to ridicule justice, media, and societal neglect while having a doleful background himself. It seems the killer was extremely attached to his mother, but that aspect of the story was kept unexplained. All of these elements are ghosts of thoughtful true-crime storytelling.

If production flaws, character development, and a lack of investigative depth are set aside, Javed Iqbal succeeds in most areas that could have matched Netflix-style true-crime stories. I do not say this because the pic imitates Netflix's formula, but it demonstrates that Pakistani cinema has the power to tell complex, ethically challenging stories with a level of maturity needed to proudly pull the curtain aside for global audiences, like Korean, Indian, or Tamil content on Netflix.

Echoes is an opinion column on film and television from the perspective of a writer based in Pakistan.