Beyond the Surface: Deconstructing Socio-Political Allegory and Cinematic Resistance in Moor (2015)
The non-linear narrative, which jumps between the 1970s (the railway’s golden age) and the present (its decay), creates a melancholic temporality. This structure rejects the progressive teleology of nation-building films, instead suggesting that Pakistan’s future is permanently haunted by a past it has failed to learn from. mx movie
The protagonist, Allah Rakha, is a man obsessively maintaining a system that the state has abandoned. His struggle to keep the “Moor” (a local steam engine) running parallels the futile efforts of marginalized citizens—particularly Pashtuns and Baloch—to remain relevant in a national narrative dominated by Punjab. The film’s climax, where the engine finally crashes, is not a tragedy of loss but a revelation of systemic neglect. His struggle to keep the “Moor” (a local
The character of Allah Rakha’s younger son, Ehsanullah (played by Shaz Khan), represents the educated, urbanized Pakistani who has internalized colonial and Punjabi-centric biases. His initial disdain for the “backward” railway town contrasts with his father’s rooted dignity. The film’s central conflict—Ehsanullah’s desire to sell the family land to a corrupt mining corporation versus Allah Rakha’s commitment to the railway—stages a debate between neoliberal assimilation and indigenous resistance. His initial disdain for the “backward” railway town
Moor is not merely a film about a train or a town; it is a forensic examination of Pakistan’s internal fractures. By using the railway as a symbol of abandoned public good, the Pashtun body as a site of state suspicion, and slow cinema as a method of political critique, Jami Mahmood crafted a work of art that resists easy consumption. The misnomer “MX Movie” is a symptom of the very cultural amnesia the film diagnoses. Scholars of postcolonial and global south cinema must rescue Moor from such digital obscurity, recognizing it as a landmark of political filmmaking in 21st-century Pakistan.
Moor premiered at the Busan International Film Festival (2015) and was Pakistan’s official entry for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Domestically, it was a commercial failure, grossing less than ₨1 crore against a budget of ₨4 crore. This disparity is telling: international audiences read Moor as an art film about universal themes of modernization and loss, while Pakistani distributors, uncomfortable with its political critique, relegated it to limited screens.
Unlike the rapid editing of commercial Pakistani films, Moor employs long, contemplative takes reminiscent of Abbas Kiarostami or Nuri Bilge Ceylan. Cinematographer Mo Azmi uses natural light to emphasize the harshness of the landscape. The sound design is equally deliberate: the whistle of the steam engine becomes a leitmotif for hope, while its silence signifies death.