The 2026 Berlin Film Festival has concluded, and the winners have been announced, notably Yellow Letters. Despite not being able to win any prize at the 76th Berlinale, an all-Pakistani production definitely made waves at its premiere. Packed with the Pakistani community, the screening was warmly welcomed by Berlin's audience.
I'm talking about Lali, directed by Sarmad Sultan Khoosat. Talking to The Hollywood Reporter, Khoosat elaborated on the meaning of the title: "Lal means red, and if somebody's blushing, you'll say that they have lali on their cheeks. But there are two versions of it, one uses a different alphabet. So if you change that, Lali also means sun."
Red is pretty much the central theme of the film, but the director resolved that he wanted Lali to be "Rosebud" in the film. Red is the color of celebration in South Asian weddings, and festivities show red in bridal clothes, love, and even longing. Red could also be the color of anger and blood.
Interestingly, the Punjabi-language film's plot offers a paradoxical picture of events. The story revolves around a woman considered to be a cursed bride, Zeba (played by Mamya Shajaffar), and her husband, Sajawal (Channan Hanif), who pretends to be possessed in order to exert control over her.
The trailer showed that the three previous suitors to Zeba died before they could even marry her. The paranoid husband, who has a conspicuous red birthmark, again signifying the use of Lali in the film, has feelings of inadequacy and turns their marriage into a power struggle.
The film dissects one of the most universally undeniable customs: marriage. With darkly comic tones, the film has a strong capacity for genre-defying, but with cultural specificity. The idiosyncracy is deeply rooted in the Punjabi culture, with the story written by someone Khoosat knew personally and had acted alongside. Her narratives possessed a cinematic quality, rich with sensory detail, which immediately caught his eye. It was this particular story that sparked his imagination and "became the seed for Lali."
Sarmad Sultan Khoosat isn't new to international film festivals. In 2019, his critically acclaimed film, Zindagi Tamasha, internationally known as Circus of Life, won the Kim Ji-seok award at the Busan International Film Festival. He was also a part of Joyland (2022), which won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 2022. Both were later selected as Pakistan's official submissions to the Academy Awards.
While Berlinale has showcased Pakistani co-productions in the past, this marks the first time a film grounded entirely in local talent and indigenous production has claimed the spotlight. The renewed state of the Pakistani film industry, having a grand opening in the international arena, has sparked new possibilities for the revival of the region's cinema.
The film is a statement of the region's storytelling capabilities, which Khoosat has proved several times before. Considered one of the best South Asian filmmakers, the director has an unconventional storytelling approach. His tendency to delve into intense, psychological, and taboo themes is his open declaration to defy commercial norms of Pakistani cinema.
His willingness to tackle what are considered off-limits topics by the Pakistani censor board is what sets him apart. Talking about controversial topics, such as in Zindagi Tamasha, which examined the repercussions of social media on an elderly man's life with with his daughter, resulted in intense backlash and even reported death threats.
This did not scare him, and he continued his experimental work. He loves working on films that aim to challenge the traditional film structures of the region. Poetic prose, surrealism, and dark humor have been prominent elements of his stories, corroborated by the initial reviews of Lali.
The director admitted in one of his past interviews that he spent considerable time in acting and teaching, but he finally discovered that his real passion is storytelling. It is no wonder, then, that his artistic sensibilities shine through in his preference for complex, layered narratives rather than straightforward linear storytelling.
This can make his films feel deliberately intricate and slow, especially for viewers expecting conventional storytelling, which often leads to criticism. His modus operandi favors morally ambiguous or flawed characters, a concept that mainstream audiences may struggle to accept. Instead of clear heroes and villains, Khoosat presents gray portrayals that spark debate and at times, outright dislike.
It is evident from his body of work, particularly films like Manto (2015) and Joyland, that Khoosat often tackles themes that challenge societal norms, which can invite criticism from conservative circles too. Zindagi Tamasha even drew the ire of right-wing religious groups, putting Khoosat squarely in their crosshairs for its content.
Reflecting on the visibility his films have gained on international platforms, Khoosat hopes that this recognition could help foster a more thriving domestic film industry. Despite being eccentric, he paves the way for a new generation of Pakistani filmmakers, encouraging them to step forward with fresh voices and original stories that push boundaries of orthodox cinema.
Echoes is an opinion column on film and television from the perspective of a writer based in Pakistan.