The Bangladeshi film industry is a no-woman's land.
Earlier this month, Variety broke the news that young director Nuhash Humayun's short film Moshari would be produced as a feature by Hollywood's beloved Jordan Peele and Riz Ahmed. Last year, for the first time, a Bangladeshi film (Rehana Maryam Noor) was selected for the Cannes Film Festival. This is exciting news for any Bangladeshi, especially for someone like me, a film studies student at Columbia University among professors and students from wide-ranging nationalities.
Variety then published an exclusive that Abu Shahed Emon would be a part of 25 title productions consisting of 25 directors for the 2023 slate of the Bangladeshi streaming platform Chorki.
One of my American friends asked me if there were any women among the 25 directors of Chorki's 2023 slate. I replied that there weren't. Her next immediate question was, “so, there must be a lot of criticism mounting in Bangladesh right now after Variety's PR exclusive came out, right?" I had to unfortunately reply, “well, actually, no.”
I felt gravely ashamed.
I am aware of the West's own representational issues across all sectors of life -- specifically, the United States' claims to be the forerunner of the democratic world even though it is still unable to vote a woman into the presidency. We might then, by comparison, give some credit to a nation like Bangladesh that has had a great deal of women presence in national leadership.
However, when responding to my friend's question, I could not muster the courage to save the shattered image of Bangladeshi men. I realized she also had no idea about the state of Bangladesh where critics face grave consequences, both from the authorities as well as the film industry itself.
Thinking a bit more, I realized that even if I had shared the words of our women prime ministers to boost the motherland's image, my argument would have still been a weak one.
The Draconian Digital Security Act (DSA) is being used to silence any form of criticism. Films like Shonibarer Bikel visibly have no pathway to hit a Bangladeshi theater anytime soon. It has been over three years since the film was denied a national release and no one offers any answer why. This is a textbook example of how freedom of speech is being muzzled. Equally insidious is how the DSA has become a pervasive scare tactic to make citizens voluntarily practice self-censorship.
The Bangladesh Telecommunication Regulatory Commission's (BTRC) regulations for digital, social media, and OTT platforms does not provide any guidelines for gender equality, but instead aggressively focuses on how the government can control the new media. This shows where the interest lies in the Bangladeshi authority.
My film studies classmates stumble upon Bangladeshi films on Netflix such as Sincerely Yours, Dhaka (2018). Instead of discussing what they think of the film, they ask me why there is not even a single female director among the eleven directors in an anthology film. Projonmo Talkies (2017) has five directors, Aynabazi Original Series (2017) has seven, Osthir Shomoy Shostir Golpo and Chabial Reunion both have seven directors too -- one common factor that ties these projects together is that not one has a female director. After its launch, Chorki had already produced 41 male directors, 56 male writers, and one female writer for their 37 original audio-visual features.
Then, when the name of director and producer Abu Sahed Emon comes up in the discussion of the 25 male directors for Chorki in 2023 and who produced the anthology film with 11 male directors, we all agree that the important question for individuals with power is if they would like to be understood and labeled as “sexist” and “misogynist” or not. Indeed, it is high time that we do away with marginalizing women; otherwise, instead of Bangladeshi films being welcomed into the venues and platforms to which they tirelessly seek access, they will find harsh criticism, a locked door, or both.
What Bangladeshi women can or cannot do is beyond what we're questioning here. At this point I would like to mention Wazfia Nasrin, a Bangladeshi mountaineer who is the first Bangladeshi and the first Bengali to complete the Seven Summits and be recognized by the National Geographic as one of their Adventurers of the Year some years ago. Let's not be mistaken -- Bangladeshi women are not waiting to be recognized and/or be “saved” by men. It is in the interest of those who control the Bangladeshi film industry to collaborate with women.
So, dear men of the Bangladeshi film industry, by giving women what they have rightfully earned and working side-by-side as equals, the agenda to enrich our film industry and elevate its esteem worldwide can be fulfilled. Maybe now Variety is just an outlet failing to criticize an exclusive because of a perceived lack of interest in the content compared to others which have wider appeal.
However, as Bangladeshi films become the subject of global discussion, these very same outlets will dissect your every step and will call you names. And I ask you, do you want to be publicly labeled as a misogynist defender of the patriarchy who is a sad relic of the past and can offer nothing up to the prevailing progressive winds?
I'd hope not.
Atish Saha is a student of film studies at Columbia University.