momtazbh

SOLD is an uncomfortable watch. A 13-year-old girl is repeatedly raped and as the viewer, we have to sit back and witness it, glancing away from the screen because at times it's too difficult to fathom, or perhaps taking brief looks while shuffling in our seats trying hard to focus on something else, just to get through the movie.

The film is based on a novel of the same name by Patricia McCormick. It centres on a young Nepali girl who is sold by her father unknowingly to a brothel in India. She is taken here against her will, beaten, tortured and raped until she finally escapes.

An estimated 20,000 children are trafficked from Nepal every year, a figure that is rising. It is not an issue exclusive to the country, but a form of human slavery that exists all over the world; a subject that Director Jeffrey Brown aims to raise awareness about through his debut film.

There is little respite, just a few moments of joy when the children of the brothel are given brief opportunities to be kids such as flying kites and dropping waterbombs on unsuspecting passers by made from condoms – but there's no 'happy ending' to look forward to. Life for these women is depicted just as it is in reality – difficult, desperate, depressing…all the negatives you can think of.

Who is this film for? It doesn't exist to 'entertain' or make viewers come out and think 'I loved that film' – it serves a different purpose. One that we often overlook in filmmaking. It has the power to change things. SOLD will make you reassess your own situation, spark discussion and raise awareness. It may even give hope to the women around the world who are in this situation as there are plans to screen it in schools, colleges and centres to educate people. At the very least it will give you an insight into a world you will never experience – something it does with passion and sensitivity.

SOLD takes a while to digest but it's a film that is bold, brave and necessary: something you can't say about the majority of movies that are churned out of Hollywood and Bollywood.

Part fairytale, part fantasy, part folklore; Qissa weaves together historical ties, family bonds, issues of identity, belonging and the supernatural, to create a film that takes you on a journey that's unlike any cinematic adventure you've embarked on before.

Set in the Punjab and beginning at the start of Independence in 1947, the film is a metaphor for many of the experiences that Indians and Pakistani's faced during this bleak period, but rather than presenting the situation from a political perspective, it focuses on the tale of one family and the deep, dark secret that haunts them.

The moment she is born Kanwar's father declares her to be a boy, bringing her up as his son. With such a lie there comes burden and over the years we see Kanwar develop and grow, trying to come to terms with his/her alternate gender while the father figure (played by Irrfan Khan) deals with the weight of his actions.

From the moment Qissa begins, through to its conclusion, every part of your senses are engaged. Visually the production is stunning. The landscape of the Punjab is depicted as beautiful yet barren. The washed out colourisation adds an ethereal feel, giving the film its fairytale quality. The haunting soundtrack is the soul of the movie, melodic yet mystical, it alludes to the unearthly feelings that engulf each character. Emotionally this films entwines you physically and mentally - there's an urgency to reach out onto the screen and put your arms around Kanwar, knowing there is no one she can turn to, and morally it questions your beliefs about what is acceptable when it comes to upholding family values.

To pick out an actor and praise them for their performance would make the others seem insignificant when in truth, every member of this ensemble cast is worthy of a mention. It's not as easy as saying 'the best performance of Irrfan's career' or 'Tillotama Shome masterfully plays a boy and a girl': these are actors who are defining the boundaries of acting itself, presenting to what is largely a conservative audience in Indian, new possibilities.

The casting of Irrfan Khan, a Muslim actor who does not speak Punjabi into such a robust Sikh character while Tillotama who plays Kanwar is herself Bengali, again taking on a language that was unfamiliar to her, gives this film an additional layer of intelligence. The language used in the film alters in dialect to reflect different time periods, which itself brings another dimension to contemporary Punjabi filmmaking.

One of the highlights of Qissa is the tender depiction of friendship and love between Kanwar and Neeli, the girl that he marries. The portrayal of the warmth, respect and desires the two women have for each other is both honest and sensitive.

The folklore element of the movie is at times hard to spot because it feels so natural. Even though the subheading to the film is 'The Tale Of A Lonely Ghost', when you are watching it you don't always recognise the spectres and shadows that accompany each character. Dealing with the supernatural may seem far-fetched, yet because it's done so in context, at no point do you question the authenticity; it is engrained in the script.

12 years in the making, Anup Singh's courageous production Qissa is part funded by Indian, German, French and Dutch investors and as a result it contains the essential ingredients that will make this a crossover success for Western and non-Western audiences. Pushing the boundaries of Indian and Punjabi pictures, it's an example of cinema that has the power to define modern filmmaking.

It took me a week and a half to recover from the experience of watching Tasher Desh, a futuristic adaptation of a classic play by Bengali poet and writer Rabindranath Tagore. To say it's a well-known story is an understatement; pretty much every Bengali knows of it; but I'm guessing no one has the kind of imagination that could possibly have interpreted it in the way that Q has.

The entire film is a visual feast for all your senses; most of which are not pleasurable. Unexpected, unsettling and disturbing; the vivid imagery, bold graphics and loud dialogue made me squirm in my seat.

The story flits between three worlds and narratives, the urban metropolis of Calcutta, a derelict and deserted castle inhabited by a young prince bored of living a secluded and sheltered life and Tasher Desh itself, The Land of Cards ruled by a hostile military regime.

As their worlds collide, the viewer is taken on a journey that at times feels like a nightmare and at others looks like heaven. Secluded beaches juxtaposed against the harshness of city living with runaway toy train sets and ancient tribal warriors; the imagery feeds your imagination and curiosity until it can no longer consume any more.

There are infinite ways to interpret Q's Tasher Desh; there is an underlying political voice making it the perfect film to be analysed for an academic dissertation but if you detach yourself from intellectual thought and allow yourself to be drawn into Q's sinister and eccentric vision, you'll be rewarded with the prize of witnessing a film that's fresh and fantastical and guaranteed to influence your dreams for at least the night that you view it…or if you're like me, for a lot longer.