The synopsis of the new Pakistani film Mastani reads like this on IMDb: “[Mastani] is a story of a spunky and lion-hearted young girl who wants to make a change in society but fate had other plans for her.” As far as jotting down outlines that define a film go, this is fairly accurate. A film, though, is more than the jottings of an outline.

Putting the weight on Aamna Illyas — as the actress’ prior films Ready Steady No! and Good Morning Karachi did — Mastani repeats a recurring dilemma of Pakistani cinema: the film is made to deliver a “soft”, agreeable, inconsequential story with a message. Of these keywords, Mastani manages to nail only the “soft” part; the rest is a muddle.

Aamna plays Aaliya, a girl who is born to break rules — her stance is evident from her entry, when she demands privilege by breaking a line of customers at a small hotel in a quiet neighbourhood — and then agrees to someone she doesn’t know pay for the said breakfast.

The girl is a walking talking stereotype of a typical hot-blooded heroine: she wants to study, doesn’t want to get married, and will do anything to see justice done.

Even Aamna Illyas’ spirited performance can’t save Mastani from being a poorly written and executed mess. The movie comes across more like a substandard telefilm rather than something made for the big screen

Needless to say, she slips on all counts: Aaliya falls in love with her next-door tenant Shakil (Affan Waheed), coaxes her dad to agree to her going to college by faking a strangulation stunt that no one — including her dad — buys, and fights for justice when her best friend (Aamna Malik), who also happens to like a guy in the neighbourhood, is married off to an old man, and comes back a victim of physical abuse.

It could have been a good message, if only it was thought out with some intelligence.

Aaliya’s main beef is limited to her friend’s mother and father — not the system; with the way that the story is moulded, a more pronounced statement could not be wiggled out in any case, until and unless the story went back to its basics.

There are two parallel subplots in the mix as well: one involving Aaliya’s two brothers (Kashif Shahzad, Abbas Ashraf), who become robbers (their reason for doing so is downright absurd), and the other involving the family’s baffling disappearance.

The film opens with Aaliya and her family’s mysterious disappearance and two reporters’ resilient sleuthing to uncover the facts (the reporters are played by Hina Khan and Aadi Adeel).

Their investigation, by the way, is limited to asking the neighbourhood kids what happened (they were taken by UFOs, one kid says!), which leads them to Shakil — Affan Waheed donning a bad beard — who had been looking for Aaliya as well, after he returned from a work trip.

Despite mediocre to amateurish performances and a production that limits itself to a handful of sets, one feels as if they are seeing a telefilm unfold on the big screen… except, at times, telefilms turn out to be better.

Two small subplots tie up the story, though not the loose ends. For example, those who have seen the film should ponder why a specific breakfast order is necessary for a character who is not there to eat it. Perhaps, one can argue, that it was for someone who wanted to reminisce about what that particular character ate. “Perhaps” being the key word here.

“Perhaps” does not cut it, especially when films — and basic logic — are concerned.

Despite mediocre to amateurish performances (Aadi Adeel is particularly bad here, playing a character who is not interested in the goings-on around him), and a production that limits itself to a handful of sets, one feels as if they are seeing a telefilm unfold on the big screen… except, at times, telefilms turn out to be better.

Usman Rizvi, the writer and the director — who mostly has his cinematographers Khizer Idrees (Superstar) and Sameer Hamdani (Umro Ayyar) shoot static, TV-like frames — knew one thing for certain: while Affan Waheed is an okay actor, his part wasn’t fleshed out for heroics, so the weight of the film had to be pushed on to Aamna Illyas. She, needless to say, takes the bulk of Mastani’s weight in stride, performing the role with as much sparkle and deftness as the scenes allowed.

That, as one can guess by now, wasn’t much — however, the actress’s influence did pull the film straight into the zone of mediocre entertainment.

I shudder to think what the film would have been if that were not the case.

Mastani is produced by Syeda Daniya Nizami and has music by Naveed Nashaad. The film is released by Distribution Club and is rated suitable for all ages of audiences with a “U” certificate

Published in Dawn, ICON, September 8th, 2024