“We have struggled for the bare minimum in this life” – Joyland's Alina Khan on the reality of being a Pakistani trans woman
Words by Sara Hussain, edited by Sunayah Arshad.
(Content warning: mentions of rape and murder).
Alina Khan is a Pakistani actress best known for her role in short film ‘Darling’ in 2019, before going onto make her feature film debut in ‘Joyland’. Alina has only starred in two films since her career began, with ‘Joyland’ impressively landing the actress and her supporting cast a ten minute standing ovation at Cannes Film Festival. During our sit down, she opened up about the trans community's struggles, her own barriers to get into acting and what this film truly means to her.
‘Joyland’ portrays the scrutiny of Pakistani patriarchy to its fullest extent. The first Pakistani film to ever be shortlisted for an Oscar follows the story of youngest son Haider, who becomes the backup dancer of a trans performer Biba. He falls in love with Biba whilst hiding the true nature of his profession from his family and his new relationship. However, the love story isn’t one of simplicity. It also depicts the crushing weight of expectation, with Haider’s brother and his wife trying for a boy after having three girls and Haider’s wife’s desperation to have a job, instead of becoming a full-time housewife and mother. The film depicts longing, love and the grip of ‘tradition’ still heavily prioritised in South Asia. The film is in essence a poetic tragedy, with no real happy ending, but instead dives into how societal expectation can make for dire consequences.
Director Saim Sadiq directed and co-wrote the film after being fascinated by the way trans people had historically challenged perceptions of gender. He previously worked with Alina on ‘Darling’, a short film exploring the world of trans dancers for his Columbia Film School thesis. Trans people have always existed in Pakistan, revered for their creativity as poets and artists. However, the trans community, also known as the Khawaja Sira, has had a fight for recognition with a longer, more complicated history. The Khawaja Sira, broadly known as the Hijra, encompasses trans and intersex people. They’ve been a part of South Asia’s history for 2,000 years. Under British colonialism, the trans community were criminalised via laws such as the Criminal Tribes Act in 1871. Historically, the community were ordered into a hierarchy to preserve the ‘masculinity of men’ at the time. The Criminal Tribes Act sought to discipline and erase the group because they were perceived as a threat.
In 2018, The Transgender Persons Act was passed in Pakistan, which in theory should have allowed the community more protections but the legislative changes did not bring about any extra safety for trans people. Honour killings, sexual harassment, rape and blackmail are still rife. The entire community to this day are still heavily stigmatised, with many seeking funds through begging, dancing or sex work. The film was even banned by the Central Board of Film Censors in Pakistan, citing ‘immoral content’ as the reason. Following a re-review, it was released but remained banned in Punjab despite being cleared. All in all, the very existence of the Hijra is threatened still to this day, in the most violent way possible.
With executive producers Malala Yousafzai and Riz Ahmad joining the team following mainstream recognition, the film seeks to challenge traditional social norms and expectations in a still highly conservative society. When asked about the duo’s support for the film, Alina was elated at the fact two prominent Pakistani names were raising their voices for marginalised communities.
Sara: Despite the international success, the film was initially banned in cinemas in Pakistan, with the film being accused of pushing a ‘certain agenda’, how do you feel about that being at the forefront of the coverage of the film?
Alina: The film was banned in Punjab, and it caused me great pain. The film has been banned in my province, and I was really looking forward to the film being released because my family and friends are there, and I wanted to take them to see it and show them the kind of work that I've done. All the struggles that I've faced as a trans person that I couldn’t explain to them, I was hoping that they'd be able to see the film and sort of understand that this is what I went through. When I found out that the film had been banned in Punjab, I just couldn't control myself and started crying. I couldn't hold it in. On one hand, the international film festivals were loving it. But on the other hand, Punjab in my own province, where my friends and family are, the film was banned, and they couldn't see it.
There have been other times when trans people have been played by male actors and they've never had a problem with that. We are only being penalised in this instance because we as trans people are representing our own selves. Even though people in the community are educated, have gained qualifications and are eligible to work, they're still made fun of and treated as comic book characters. I cannot win. I can't expect myself to represent the male or female gender. Why do male or female identifying actors feel that they can represent a transgender person? This film has shown that we have our own feelings, we have our own emotions, we are not just a comical character, we have souls, you can't just put a wig on a person and make them dress up as a woman and say that they're a trans person.
We have struggled for the bare minimum in this life. If we must step out of our house for food or clothing, or anything, we’ll think twice because we know that from me, whether it be a child or an adult, they will disdain us or make fun of us, humiliate us. People who criticise the film don’t understand the lives we lead and the struggles we have.
You talked about what it's like to be a trans person and having to face hardship and struggle. Could you give us an insight into how it’s been in the industry and the barriers you’ve had to face?
I faced a lot of problems in my life on this journey. I think back to when I was younger, I used to like dressing up and doing makeup. As I grew older, I started behaving more and more in an effeminate way. To the extent that my mother used to hit me and would tell me to start behaving like a boy and act like a boy and when my father would step out of the house, people would ridicule him. They would tell him: ‘’You gotta get your son married. What's wrong with him? Is he normal?’’. That’s when I decided to run away from home. I faced a lot of abuse while I was on the road.
I had no place to stay, no food, no clothing, so I faced lot of sexual harassment as well. And eventually to fend for myself, I started performing in these dance functions. As it’s the culture in Punjab, most of the audience were men. Even in urban Punjab, there’s a ban on performances. In order to make a living for themselves, most trans people could choose to go to villages, or the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, which was under the radar from the police, and they would perform over there. In the villages, the level of educational literacy and awareness is even lesser than it is in cities and their people would, again, abuse these dancers. They would be gang-raped, in some cases, they’re murdered as well.
One scene in the film reflected this as Biba steps onto a public train, only to be glared out by an older Asian woman. The woman was made uncomfortable by Biba’s mere presence and was audibly disgusted to see a trans woman on the train, simply living and existing in the same space.
It wasn't easy for me to earn a living by performing at these functions. When it comes to the film industry, or the entertainment industry. It isn’t easy for us to break that barrier, especially because people will want to hire experienced actors from the theatre. And those people would be the ones who will be able to play our roles. When Saim bought this role to me, it was very different. I got this role because one day I was performing at the mall and one of the casting directors, Sana Jafri, saw me and we exchanged numbers because she really liked my dance. I didn't know who she was, and the fact that she's a casting director, or if she would even call me. I didn't expect this opportunity to come my way. I’m very grateful for it.
When it comes to trans women and the LGBTQIA+ community, perceptions have changed across the world, especially in the last couple of decades, but we still have a massive way to go in the West, in the Global South and in South Asian countries specifically. What lessons can we take from ‘Joyland’?
There is far more progression in the west when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community. But ‘Joyland’, the movie specifically is not about the LGBTQ+ community, it's more about the trans community and what being a trans character is like within other characters. So, it's the transgender as a third gender, transgender people are represented almost as if on an equal level with the male and the female gender. Personally, in my opinion, homosexuality or any other LGBTQ+ identity comes as part of your humanity. So, you're a human being before you have your sexual orientation. Everybody deserves respect, but this movie is not about the LGBTQ+ community, it’s about trans people and their story.
The actress's open dialogue has begun a conversation for trans people not only in Pakistan but anywhere that they’re persecuted. The uplifting of trans voices in media like ‘Joyland’ only serves as a reminder that the battle to uplift marginalised voices is still ongoing. Without the willingness and drive of people like Saim, Alina and Malala to get these stories into the mainstream there will be no bridging the gap from ignorance to understanding for those who don’t openly accept trans people in Pakistan, South Asia and the rest of the world.
JOYLAND is currently showing in UK cinemas. For more information head here