Bala (1992)
Cast: Badar Munir, Nadia, Shahid, Saba Shaheen,Chakori, Kamran, Neimat Sarhadi
Director: Qaiser Sanober
Nutshell: Terrifying tale of sorcery and black magic and, of course, vengeance.
Reviewed by: Omar Ali Khan

Admittedly, our grasp of Pushto is limited at best (read non-existent), but I was even more flummoxed than usual after watching this latest slice of Pashtun fantasy. There were the regular wigged-out goons in the jungle waging war against one another—that is virtually taken for granted. What came as a pleasant surprise, however, was that this turned out to be a genuinely chilling horror film dealing with black magic, laden with the most fabulously cheesy special effects that even Ed Wood would have envied.

The movie begins with a thrilling chase sequence in which a young couple attempt to escape a gang of armed hoodlums while carrying their infant. It is a surprisingly tense scene, complete with some typically bizarre zoom-lens work. As the suspense mounts, the child begins to cry, the couple are captured by the hoods and dragged before their leader, the dreaded cannibal and feared child-eater, Kublai Khan.

Khan's adoring subjects watch in admiration as he tears the tot from its pleading mother before casually tossing it into a blazing fire—a succulent barbecue for the evening. The mere suggestion of evil turns Kublai on, and he prides himself on being second only to Satan when it comes to perpetrating the vilest horrors. Moments later, the parents of the crisp-fried child are spectacularly beheaded, their heads rolling across the ground into pools of blood.

Kublai is not a creature to be crossed, and sensible villagers flee at the mere mention of his name. One night, while ravaging a nearby village, Kublai spots a wench he fancies and promptly vows to "have her", much to the fury of his own woman back in the forest—a portly but still stunning Chakori. Spurned and enraged, she vows to unleash the most horrific black magic upon Kublai. She takes to robbing graves by night, dragging up corpses to perform diabolical rituals before preparing a special batch of "cursed bread".

Meanwhile, the inevitable turf wars erupt, with Badar Munir leading a clan whose family was massacred by Kublai and seeking swift justice. Kublai, meanwhile, is intent on expanding his territory by conquering neighbouring villages, bringing him directly into conflict with Badar's people.

As if all this were not enough, there also happens to be a section of forest inhabited by the ghastliest witches imaginable—bloodthirsty, murderous hags with truly catastrophic dental problems, who fly through the night feasting upon innocent, and not-so-innocent, victims in the most gruesome fashion.

After moments of almost unbearable tension and a climax of excruciating horror, matters are finally resolved when these flesh-eating witches are confronted by the awesome power of oversized Allah medallions in a sequence boasting dazzling special effects.

The movie is a gargantuan mess from beginning to end, with only the wonderfully gory moments and the extraordinary witch scenes saving the day. Unfortunately, even the songs are rather drab, and this director, alas, resists the wonderfully lurid pseudo-porn that one has come to expect from the genre.

The sleaze factor is therefore disappointingly low, but the bone-chilling horror and delightfully outrageous special effects compensate to some extent.

One truly unforgettable scene deserves special mention. A woman imprisoned in a cage by the villainous Kublai has only her dead husband's severed head for company. Overcome by unbridled lust, she removes the head from the spike upon which it rests and proceeds to shower it with passionate kisses before wrapping it lovingly in her dupatta, kissing it some more and finally handing it to her faithful pooch for onward transportation.

Quite astonishingly, the censors saw fit to approve what amounts to an enthusiastic display of necrophilia, as the woman lavishes affectionate kisses all over the severed head. Presumably, those same kisses would never have been permitted had the head still been attached to a living neck.

The film was produced as a follow-up to the highly successful Adam Khor and was released on 12 June 1992, just a year after its predecessor had been honoured as the Best Film of the Year.

The makeup effects are genuinely impressive, with the witches' grotesque fangs being particularly appalling (or appealing?). Unfortunately, the plot is an unmitigated disaster, and the film never manages to hold itself together coherently. Nevertheless, credit is due for attempting something a little different, even if this Pushto horror film ultimately proves considerably less horrifying than many of the industry's supposedly family-oriented productions.