I have been acting since 2006. I have worked in many dramas, and later I moved to films. While working in television, I understood the condition of the medium; then, when I entered the film industry, its reality also became clear to me.
Over the years, I have realised one thing in my professional life which is in Bangladesh, there is very little work based on female-led stories. Behind this small number lies the negligence of the industry itself. The people who invest money here also have a certain problem in their mindset.
When the audience doesn’t want it, producers don’t make it either. If you invest in a superstar, you get a return on your money. That is why producers prefer to invest in films with male leads. They do not keep their social responsibility in mind. They forget that they too have a duty toward society. I want to mention the producers’ role here because I believe there are many talented directors, and many actors and actresses in Bangladesh who are ready to create good work, to do something different. But the producers are not willing to invest in such projects. This attitude must change.
The audience also shares some responsibility. They do not want to go to theatres to watch female-led films. What kinds of female characters do we see in our stories? We see the ones that reflect how society wants women to be. We don’t accept women on screen who are outside of society’s so-called norms.
The movie Rehana Maryam Noor travelled to the Cannes Film Festival, won the Asia Pacific Screen Award and the National Award — yet the audience at home did not accept such a female character. But when a male character displays anger or violence, that is easily accepted.
Cinema reflects society. Female-driven stories or unconventional works where women are not shown as “ideal women”, rarely come to the fore. Yet there are countless stories of women breaking barriers that deserve to be told.
Still, some such films are being made now — Rehana Maryam Noor, Priyo Malati, Bari Naam Shahana — each centred on a strong female character. When I began my career, there were very few such films. Directors did not dare to make them.
Discrimination in the workplace
A male actor earns far more than a female actor, only a handful of women receive pay close to their male counterparts. This gap is especially stark in cinema. In television, a few female artists are paid equally, but in most cases, this does not happen.
The workplace is not friendly to women. A woman’s struggle begins the moment she steps out of her home. The industry itself is not a safe space. There have been many incidents of abuse, exploitation, and manipulation. And then there’s the issue of working late — many women who work in costume design, makeup, or art direction face problems at home just because their work keeps them out late.
Our shoots often run till night, and they have to deal with family conflicts because of it. As a result, their professional space shrinks.They may have great talent, but they can’t continue working because their families don’t support them.
I know many men who also see society differently. Take Saba, for example, though it was made by a male director, it portrayed a woman’s perspective beautifully.
Then there’s online harassment. The way an actress is trolled on social media or how her news is sensationalised, this does not happen to male actors. That, too, limits opportunities. You might say, “But you’re trolled a lot, and it doesn’t seem to affect you.” True, it doesn’t bother me anymore, because I’ve grown resilient through experience and trauma. But if I were 20 or 21, being trolled that way and seeing my news twisted for clicks — it would have been very difficult to continue working.
Another thing is age. Even as male actors grow older, they continue to be heroes and get stories written around them. Their professional space does not shrink. But for women, once they turn 40, opportunities narrow drastically. Jaya Ahsan is an exception — she’s broken that trend through sheer hard work and talent. I’m trying too, but it’s not easy.
Producers and directors rarely make films featuring women of that age. In Hollywood, you see actresses winning Oscars at 60 or 65. Stories are built around them. As they age, their opportunities and character variety expand. India faces the same problem, though now in Bollywood, a few projects are being made centring on actresses — Kajol, for instance, has been doing some, though still very few. In our country, opportunities for female artists shrink with age because women in films and dramas are still treated as ornaments. Even in commercially successful films, the heroine has little scope for real character work.
Another thing is that society enjoys seeing women portrayed negatively. Misogynistic stories become big hits. Surongo and Poran are very successful examples of this. I think part of the reason these two films became superhits is that they reflected the misogyny that already exists in society and that made them more appealing to audiences.
We must consciously move beyond these tendencies, as directors, producers, and artists. Art and artists play a profound role in transforming society. Should we only portray what society already is, the direction it is heading, or what it simply wants to see?
What needs to be done
Producers can play a crucial role. There is a shortage of good producers in Bangladesh. The industry needs educated and progressive producers — people who genuinely want to do something for social change. That’s the first requirement. A producer must ask themselves — are they here just to make money? To regularise black money? Or to do something meaningful for society? They need to be clear about that.
Next come the directors, those who can see society differently and want to help others see it differently too. There are plenty who can show what society wants to see. But even commercial filmmakers need to be reoriented. Look at India: Yash Raj Films or Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions are highly commercial, yet their films often carry some kind of social message. That matters to me. If you want to make a commercially successful film, you must create space for producers and directors to think socially — to include a message in their work. Not because they are forced to, but because they want to.
I also believe there’s a severe lack of female directors in Bangladesh. It’s essential to see society through women’s eyes, through women’s lenses. Most women directors here grew up within the same patriarchal structure, they too often see society through that lens. But we need women who can challenge those conventions, who can look beyond them. I want to see society through the lens of women.
At the same time, I know many men who also see society differently. Take Saba, for example, though it was made by a male director, it portrayed a woman’s perspective beautifully. I found Saba’s character deeply intriguing. My own character in Rehana Maryam Noor was also written by a man, but I gave it a great deal of personal input. I think that added a distinct dimension to the role.
So both men and women need to come forward.
* As told by Azmeri Haque Badhon