Hold
this
film
tight.
There
is
an
utterly
moving
sequence
towards
the
end
of
this
lovely
parable
on
cross-border
amity
where
Sunny
(Sharib
Hashmi),
who
has
strayed
into
Pakistan,
confesses
to
Aftaab
(Innamulhaq)
that
he
is
obsessed
with
Bollywood
and
wants
to
be
a
hero,
though
he
knows
he
doesn't
have
it
in
him.
"Mera
asli
hero
toh
tu
hi
hai," Aftaab
tells
Sunny
sincerely.
For
me,
that
moment
sums
up
the
mood
of
this
big-little
film.
Made
at
a
shoestring
budget
by
fringe
talent,
the
film
shows
us
that
true
heroes
can
be
found
in
most
unexpected
places.
Try
this
hamlet
in
the
back
of
the
beyond
in
Pakistan
where
our
Bollywood
struggler
is
locked
up
by
militants
who
actually
wanted
to
kidnap
Americans
for
...errrm...negotiations.
And
look
what
they
dragged
in!
Filmistaan
would
have
been
an
outrageously
funny
film
were
it
not
for
the
profoundly
moving
underbelly
that
it
secretes
with
such
fluency
and
spontaneity.
The
film
could
have
become
a
gallery
of
cliches
about
Indo-Pak
harmony.
A
sort
of
Veer-Zara
turned
into
a
Veru
and
Zara-uddin
who
become
friends
in
Pakistani
soil
while
guns
boom
all
around
them.
Sachindra
Vats
edits
the
scenes
down
to
the
minimum
when
required.
But
generally
he
lets
the
charactes
develop
naturally
even
if
the
process
takes
some
time.
The
film
is
shot
in
authentic
locations
by
cinematographer
Subhransu
Das
who
brings
to
the
table
an
enticing
aura
of
believability.
The
dialogues
written
by
the
film's
lead
Sharib
Hashmi
never
become
top-heavy
with
message-mongering,
nor
does
the
going
get
excessively
verbose
as
it
did
in
the
recent
cross-border
film
Kya
Dilli
Kya
Lahore.
It's
astonishing
how
director
Nitin
Kakkar
averts
all
the
corny
cliches
of
brotherhood
across
the
barbed
wire.
By
simply
using
Bollywood
as
the
binding
factor
between
the
two
countries,
Kakkar
emerges
with
a
plot
that
is
high
on
emotions
and
low
on
tripe
and
homilies.
The
two
actors
who
play
the
Indian
and
Pakistan
do
the
rest.
So
effortlesstly
do
they
express
the
oneness
of
a
cultural
kinship
that
we
are
left
looking
at
two
individuals
who
transcend
borders
to
become
two
Every
mans.
Sharib
Hashmi
and
Innamulhaq
are
striven
by
their
sense
of
absolute
abandon
that
comes
only
to
artistes
who
have
nothing
to
lose
except
their
anonymity.
They
are
phenomenally
in
character,
not
slipping
up
even
once
in
their
interactive
zone.
Bollywood
does
the
rest.
There
is
a
longish
homage
to
Sooraj
Barjatya's
Maine
Pyar
Kiya
where
we
see
the
whole
Pakistani
village
glued
to
a
community
television
set
watching
Salman
Khan
and
Bhagyashree
love
story.
Here,
as
in
many
similar
scenes
showing
mutual
Bollywood-inspired
solidarity
between
the
two
warring
nations,
Kakkar
constructs
a
case
for
cross-border
friendship
without
tripping
over
in
an
emotional
slush.
My
favourite
sequence
shows
the
captured
Indian
protagonist
sitting
in
solitude
in
a
darkened
room
when
the
sound
of
Reshma's
song
'Ve
main
chori
chori' wafts
in.
Sunny
joins
in
with
Lata
Mangeshkar's
'Yaara
sili
sili'
which
is
the
Indian
avtar
of
the
same
tune.
An
entire
thesis
can
be
written
in
the
way
the
film
utilizes
Bollwood
songs
on
the
rich
soundtrack
brimming
over
with
the
sounds
of
two
cultures
peering
anxiously
but
affectionately
at
one
another.
The
storytelling
never
pounds
out
a
pro-Pakistani
message
merely
to
try
to
tilt
the
socio-political
balance
between
the
two
countries.
Filmistaan
is
neither
for
or
against
either
country.
It's
blissfully
pro-Bollywood.
So
what
happens
when
a
struggling
assistant
director
from
India
bonds
with
a
CD
pirate
of
Bollywood
films
in
Pakistan?
We
find
out
with
the
same
thrill
of
discovery
that
the
director
feels
as
he
lets
the
two
protagonists
sort
out
their
differences.
This
quirky
charmer
from
first-time
director
Kakkar
is
fresh
in
vision
and
enchanting
in
execution.
The
only
happy
outcome
of
the
cross-border
divide
is
a
heartwarming
film
such
as
this.
As
we
often
say
about
the
Wagah
border,
this
you
gotta
see.