PUBLISHED
October 25, 2026
From Chand Suraj to Teri Meri Kahaniyaan and Sheroes, Pakistan’s anthology films have promised variety but struggled to leave a lasting impression. Is the format to blame, or have our filmmakers simply failed to get the stories right?
The name Sheroes may sound appealing, but the film released in theatres didn’t do the film industry any favours. It was a hastily made project, stitched together from three short films that could have aired on TV as a telefilm or as episodes of an anthology series. Most theatres pulled it by the end of its first week.
Was this decision justified? Maybe, maybe not. But one thing is clear: asking the audience to support Pakistani cinema is no longer feasible. They can spot a poorly made attempt from a mile away, thanks to Netflix, Amazon Prime, HBO Max, and Apple TV being part of their lives. That’s why they didn’t show up for the latest anthology released in theaters.
For those unfamiliar, an anthology film combines two or more relatively independent narratives into a single feature film, linking them through a shared theme, setting, or idea. Its popularity is straightforward: viewers get multiple stories for the price of one, and filmmakers can explore various characters, genres, and points of view without stretching a single plot into a full-length film.
Worldwide, anthology films are considered box-office gold. Love Actually weaves together stories about love and relationships, while New York, I Love You explores the many facets of its namesake city through short films directed by different directors. These films show how diverse narratives can come together to create an enjoyable cinematic experience.
Bollywood produced quality anthology films before the advent of Netflix, and now Lust Stories is bringing the format to OTT platforms. However, the format doesn’t guarantee success; a single weak segment can ruin the entire project, and inconsistent storytelling can make an anthology feel like a series of separate films. Although the format offers flexibility, the stories provide the essential content.
How many anthology films has Pakistan produced so far, and how have they fared at the box office? Two were released more than 50 years apart, and both bombed at the box office. The first brought together Waheed Murad and Nadeem for the first time, and the second featured Mehwish Hayat, Shehryar Munawwar, Wahaj Ali, Hira Mani, Ramsha Khan, among others.
Let’s discuss these attempts and try to determine why they failed before deciding whether anthology filmmaking is a poor fit for Pakistani cinema or whether the films themselves failed to make a strong case for it.
Before Chand Suraj, Waheed Murad and Nadeem hadn’t worked together in a film; one was the West Pakistan heartthrob, and the other was a star emerging from the East Wing. Directed by Shore Lakhnawi, this film promised to bring them together but instead did something unusual for Pakistani cinema.
Released on December 25, 1970, the film consisted of two separate stories: Waheed Murad and Rozina in the first part, and Nadeem and Shabana in the second. By uniting two leading actors and two romantic plots under a single title, it offered viewers a different approach from the usual star-based films.
The idea worked because, instead of focusing on a single hero, it presented two distinct stories, which may have increased its popularity. Moreover, it fit the state of cinema at the time by combining actors from both West and East Pakistan.
Instead of seeing their favourite actors on screen together, the audience saw Waheed Murad in one half and Nadeem in the other, which was one of the main reasons the film bombed at the box office. Audiences weren’t ready for such an experiment, which might have worked with better execution.
It therefore deserves consideration as a film ahead of its time, even if that doesn’t replace assessing it on its own merits; its importance lies in its willingness to adopt a format Pakistani cinema would revisit decades later. The industry moved on, and anthology filmmaking remained an exception rather than a widespread trend. However, more than five decades later, the idea returned, this time with well-known television stars, several directors, and a modern audience to win over.
Teri Meri Kahaniyaan, released on Eid-ul-Azha in 2023, featured Nabeel Qureshi, Marina Khan, and Nadeem Baig, who told three distinct stories: Jinn Mahal, Pasoori, and Ek Sau Taeeswaan. The selection aimed to provide variety, moving from a horror-comedy to a romance and then to a relationship drama.
Ali Abbas Naqvi and Basit Naqvi authored Jinn Mahal, a story about a family facing financial hardship who seek refuge in a house said to be haunted. The situation offers opportunities for supernatural thrills, humour, and social commentary. Long before horror-comedy became a thing, this one-hour short film gave audiences a glimpse of what would later become a genre in itself in Bollywood.
Vasay Chaudhry’s Pasoori examines romance and the pressures of social expectations within the context of a wedding; it also marks Marina Khan’s first feature-film direction. The story offers an opportunity to examine the choices available to women and the sacrifices conventional standards demand.
However, a relevant theme is only the beginning; the characters must feel real, the emotional stakes must be believable, and the endings must be justified. The now-retired Ramsha Khan was the weakest link in the story because she didn’t seem believable enough to miss her own wedding to appear in a singing competition, the invitation to which she received on the day of the event.
The film Ek Sau Taeeswaan, written by Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar and starring Mehwish Hayat, Wahaj Ali, Amna Ilyas, and Zahid Ahmed, examined marriage, fidelity, and commitment. The relationship-focused narrative demonstrated the format’s potential: a short story can have an emotional impact without the length of a traditional feature film.
The three sections didn’t need to provide the same level of engagement, since that was exactly the point. Although an anthology can include various genres, it is still necessary to deliver a consistently satisfying experience. The appeal of three stories cannot make up for one that is poorly developed or a transition that disrupts the film’s momentum.
Teri Meri Kahaniyaan was a worthwhile experiment, but a variety of stories alone wasn’t enough to make the format a complete success. The issue was never whether Pakistani filmmakers could put together three stories; the question was whether the three stories together were good enough to warrant a cinema visit.
Sheroes: When the message overtakes the movie
Released earlier this month, the film Sheroes combined three stories about women: Gear Up, Artist, and Punch. Sindh Films, the provincial government’s film initiative, produced it, and it featured Zara Noor Abbas as a police officer, Kinza Hashmi in the art-forgery segment, and Ushna Shah as a boxer.
The idea had real promise: by including a police officer, a painter, and a boxer, the film offered three distinct lenses through which to examine women’s ambitions and the challenges they face. This approach gave each main character a separate story, eliminating the need to develop a single theme throughout the film. At the same time, it allowed the film to move beyond the usual assumption that women in Pakistani cinema should mainly have romantic or supporting roles.
Capable protagonists and important themes do not guarantee that films will be good. A police officer needs a compelling conflict, a painter needs more than an interesting idea, and a boxer needs a fight with emotional weight. Their decisions must carry consequences, their journeys must be believable, and their endings must feel well earned.
None of the three short films offered anything substantial; the conflict in Gear Up was hilarious, the idea in Artist was bland, and Punch wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. The first two were directed by Saqib Khan, and the last by Badar Mehmood. Each film seemed to have been made in haste, which was evident in the final product.
It may be a mistake to treat anthology filmmaking as the issue, since it is a format rather than a genre and guarantees neither success nor failure. When Chand Suraj was made, it tried something uncommon; Teri Meri Kahaniyaan explored what could be achieved by using various genres; and Sheroes presented three stories, all focused on women. Each had a premise that could work. The real test was always how it was executed.
Although Chand Suraj may have been ahead of its time in adopting a format, the industry never made a lasting tradition; later films show that revisiting an idea decades later does not necessarily lead to success. Even with well-known stars, several directors, and social-issue themes, attention can still be drawn, but that alone is not enough to replace engaging storytelling.
Pakistani audiences don’t always reject anthology films; they reject films that don’t meet their expectations. They expect believable characters, engaging plots, strong direction, and stories that leave an impression. Whether a film centers on one protagonist or three, it has to capture the audience’s attention.
Pakistan doesn’t need to give up the anthology; it just needs to use it more effectively. The format will work if each section is justified and the entire collection offers something greater than the sum of its parts. Whether or not it’s part of an anthology, good films are worthwhile. All the rest is just packaging.
The writer is a freelance contributor who writes about film, television, and popular culture
All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the writer
