The other day, I found myself scrolling through Instagram, binging reels by a young content creator named Sannan Saleh. I couldn’t help but think to myself that this guy has a better grasp of storytelling than many working in Pakistan’s film industry. It’s not that he’s an anomaly—Pakistan is bursting with untapped talent. Storytelling is a fundamental part of our culture, woven into our poetry, folklore, and daily conversations.

The problem lies not in the people, but in an industry that stifles rather than fosters creativity. For years, we’ve heard about the “revival” of Pakistan’s film industry, urging audiences to support local cinema over the dominant consumption of Indian and American content. Yet, this revival has been inconsistent at best, and the industry remains stagnant, lacking the infrastructure, resources, and vision to flourish.

As a filmmaker with many friends in the industry, I’ve watched this supposed comeback unfold with deliberate ignorance of the systemic barriers that continue to hold back Pakistani cinema. Let’s break it down.

Lack of structure and resources

Let’s face it: many institutions in Pakistan function more on who you know than on any transparent process. The film industry is no different. Aspiring filmmakers often hit a wall when it comes to finding funding, distribution, or even basic mentorship.

When I joined film school in Pakistan in 2013, there was no recognisable film industry. People spoke wistfully of the “golden era” of Pakistani cinema, a time when studio systems inherited post-Partition thrived. But that era crumbled during the Islamisation policies of the 1970s and 1980s, and successive governments have deprioritised the arts ever since.

Today, most film school graduates lack even the basic knowledge of how to market their films or navigate the distribution system. Investors view filmmaking as a high-risk venture, leading to a shortage of funding opportunities. Many filmmakers end up relying on personal wealth or foreign grants, both of which come with strings attached.

Adding to this, the major players in the industry—usually extensions of large media corporations have little understanding of the craft. These entities, focused on churning out profit-driven content, rarely nurture innovation or artistry. Even government-backed initiatives aimed at promoting filmmaking are poorly publicised and inaccessible to most independent creators.

Cultural stigma and fear of progress

For decades, working in the entertainment industry has been stigmatised in Pakistan. While attitudes are gradually shifting, the social perception of film as a legitimate career remains fraught. A film degree? Beta, film weddings and corporate events—it’s halal, safe, and pays well. Pursue self-expression? Challenge societal norms? Let’s not push it. Filmmaking, when confined to a “craft,” is somewhat acceptable. But when it becomes art—provocative, daring, and reflective of society’s flaws—it faces outright rejection. The fear of challenging the status quo has rendered our films safe and uninspired, serving as little more than spectacle.

The ironclad fraternity

The so-called revival of Pakistani cinema has been driven by a handful of directors who transitioned from television and advertising into film. Creators like Shoaib Mansoor and Sarmad Khoosat have made strides, but even they face immense challenges. Khoosat’s critically acclaimed film Zindagi Tamasha was banned by censors for tackling sensitive social issues, highlighting the dangers of addressing complex narratives in this environment.

Meanwhile, the industry’s biggest successes, like The Legend of Maula Jatt and Umro Ayyar, rely on massive budgets and marketing campaigns but rarely offer substance. These projects cater to spectacle rather than storytelling, leaving audiences with high-gloss productions that don’t push boundaries or contribute meaningfully to the craft.

Independent filmmakers left out in the cold

For independent filmmakers, the situation is even more dire. With no institutional support, many bootstrap their projects on shoestring budgets. The result? Well-meaning but amateurish films that struggle to gain traction in a market dominated by commercial blockbusters.

Critical infrastructure like production studios, funding bodies, and distribution networks are almost non-existent. While some filmmakers turn to foreign grants, these often come with compromises, diluting cultural authenticity to appeal to international audiences rather than domestic ones.

The contrast with television

In stark contrast, Pakistan’s television industry has flourished. Streaming platforms and cable networks churn out low-budget, formulaic dramas at a steady pace. While lacking innovation, this sector provides a level of consistency that the film industry can’t match. Many filmmakers end up gravitating towards TV, advertising, or fashion, leaving cinema underdeveloped.

Even here, support for innovation is scarce. Government incentives for filmmakers exist, but their opaque processes make them inaccessible to most. Industry insiders hoard opportunities and resources, treating success as a zero-sum game.

The way forward

Without foundational reforms, Pakistan’s film industry will remain a shell of its potential. To achieve genuine growth, several changes are necessary:

  1. Accessible funding: establish transparent grant systems and financial incentives for independent filmmakers.

  2. Mentorship programs: create opportunities for established filmmakers to guide emerging talent.

  3. Infrastructure development: invest in studios, production houses, and distribution networks.

  4. Censorship reform: allow filmmakers to tackle challenging narratives without fear of bans.

  5. Audience education: encourage local audiences to appreciate diverse storytelling, beyond high-budget spectacles.

Collaboration, not competition, is key. Those who have already “made it” must support aspiring filmmakers, recognising that a thriving industry benefits everyone.

No more skipping leg day

Pakistan’s film industry is stuck in a cycle of spectacle over substance, with stories that fail to reflect the depth of our culture. To break free, we must build systems that support new voices rather than suppress them. Until then, Pakistani cinema will remain a weak, one-dimensional imitation of what it could be—a vibrant, diverse, and impactful cultural force. It’s time to stop skipping leg day and start building the foundation this industry so desperately needs—we need legs we can stand on.