‘In Flames’ Review – A Cinematic Journey Into Women’s Resilience And Patriarchal Oppression

In Pakistani culture, it’s very common for women to confront a relentless cycle of control and gaslighting imposed by men and reinforced by societal norms. From a young age, they are conditioned to doubt their worth, their voices stifled, and their realities invalidated. This insidious manipulation permeates every aspect of their lives, leaving them second-guessing their experiences and internalizing a narrative that diminishes their agency. Yet, Pakistani women are resilient. They resist this oppressive system, reclaiming their narratives and asserting their truths through solidarity and collective action. In the face of systemic gaslighting, they strive to break free from the confines of patriarchal oppression and reclaim their autonomy.

Zarrar Kahn’s debut feature delves into uncharted depths of psychological horror with In Flames, an immersive journey that tightens its grip on the audience with deliberate intensity. Through meticulous pacing, the film invites viewers to experience the suffocating paranoia of being scrutinized and belittled at every turn, leaving the protagonist trapped with no apparent escape. Kahn’s nuanced direction seamlessly intertwines elements of the natural and the supernatural, immersing audiences in the haunting ordeal of a young Pakistani woman confronting familial trauma and predatory forces. While some loose ends may linger, they do little to detract from the overall impact of Kahn’s directorial prowess. In Flames marks a massive debut for Kahn, leaving a lasting impression with its visceral exploration of fear and resilience.

The picture opens with a jarring incident: Mariam (Ramesha Nawal), a young medical student, is startled as a brick smashes through her car window, thrown by a stranger who then screams at her. This unsettling encounter sets the tone for Mariam’s turbulent life in Karachi. Following her grandfather’s death, Mariam, her mother Fariha (Bakhtawar Mazhar), and brother Bilal (Jibran Khan) find themselves dependent on her uncle’s uncertain support. While initially appearing helpful, Mariam questions his true intentions. Meanwhile, Mariam grapples with the advances of fellow student Asad (Omar Javaid), whose presence adds further complexity to her already fragile mental state. A tragic accident exacerbates Mariam’s turmoil, blurring the lines between reality and hallucination, and exposing her to perilous threats from both familiar and unfamiliar faces.

The aftermath of the accident thrusts Mariam into a disorienting realm, where her own perceptions become unreliable. She becomes haunted by visions of a man leering at her through a window, exploiting her vulnerability for his own gratification. Yet, when she attempts to seek help, the specter of Asad materializes, his presence a tumult of raw emotion rather than subtle shadows. With tentative resolve, Mariam embarks on a quest for truth, only to encounter insurmountable obstacles at every turn. Whether faced with unyielding authorities or men wielding power in her society, Mariam finds herself trapped, with no avenue for recourse or justice. 

Mariam navigates the precarious divide between two worlds: one promising independence through her pursuit of a medical career, and the other, steeped in societal expectations dictating marriage and motherhood. While the former offers a semblance of empowerment within society’s framework, the latter serves as her inescapable reality. Kahn masterfully reveals the intricate workings of this dual existence, where gestures of apparent kindness often mask self-serving intentions, and where institutional structures like law enforcement reinforce the belief that justice is a privilege denied to women.

Throughout the film, Mariam’s grip on reality becomes increasingly tenuous, mirroring our own uncertainty as viewers. Are her hallucinations symptomatic of trauma-induced psychosis, or are they manifestations of her profound disorientation following the accident? Each decision she makes is colored by the suffocating confines of patriarchal norms, where deviation invites swift reprisal. Cinematographer Aigul Nurbulatova expertly captures Mariam’s psychological turmoil with deliberate pacing and evocative imagery, amplifying the sense of entrapment and resignation.

The supernatural elements woven into the narrative serve not to diminish the gravity of Mariam’s plight, but rather to underscore its profound significance. Kahn astutely recognizes the unseen horrors endured by marginalized groups, compelling us to confront the pervasive nightmares that elude the comprehension of those in positions of privilege. Mariam and her mother, ensnared by both seen and unseen forces, epitomize the relentless scrutiny and manipulation experienced by countless women. Their journey toward liberation hints at the transformative power of collective resilience.