Between the 9th and 14th of September, Kan Nagar — the new indie film that’s literally about death and taxes — went through a world of change. The cut previewed by this reviewer in a cinema a day before its censor screening, and the sleeker version edited down by seven minutes, highlights the importance of a founding principal of filmmaking that escapes Pakistani filmmakers: the power of the edit — and how just a few snippets here and there can help make a film more coherent and effective for the audiences. Kudos to writer-director Talha Masood and his team for doing what most filmmakers don’t: listening to — and acting on — advice. Masood, who works in the Inland Revenue Service, is already working on a difficult subject: a story about an honest, resolute IRS officer Affan (Taqi Ahmed) who is relegated to a decrepit district office in Kan Nagar, Balochistan, because of a harassment case. Kan Nagar makes us realise how rich Pakistan is naturally and how corruption and bad decisions keep it from rising to its true potential Affan had forced a 22 billion rupees recovery from a powerful conglomerate, ergo the banishment to the unregulated district — a vast terrain of mountains and coal, where landowners and contractors rake in billions, and the labour makes 50 rupees a day. Affan befriends Asfand Khan (Javed Jamal), an officer who understands the law of this lawless land and the local Watan Yar (Faraz Mari). He also shares his office with Mahzaib (Hina Chaudhary), a documentary filmmaker investigating Pakistan’s shadow economy, which the end credits point out is worth 457 billion dollars — an amount that can bail the country out of its economic debt “for all times.” Mahzaib also happens to be the daughter of one of the kingpins of the area (played by co-director, cinematographer, Saleem Daad). One naturally expects a romantic subplot between her and Affan. That expectation never comes to pass, since Mahzaib shares a striking resemblance to Saira (played, again, by Hina Chaudhary, laden with pronounced make-up and contact lenses) — the woman who made the harassment charges against Affan. Masood’s film is simple in plot and details. Visibly working with a modest budget — and a definite lack of footage — most of Kan Nagar’s scenes happen in inexpertly lit rooms or short cutaways to the barren and beautiful Balochistan terrain. The film deliberately stays away from the heavy-handed, stylistic narrative over-complications of Moor and Abdullah: The Final Witness. Like these two films, there are flashbacks that wiggle their way between scenes to fill viewers in on the back story. However, unlike Moor or Abdullah, they would not have everyday audiences scratching their heads piecing together timelines. Still, a rewrite focusing on dramatic highpoints and a reworking of relationships — especially between Affan and Mahzaib — could have added more intricacy and engagement to the story. Masood, who plays a minor character, Javed Jamal and Faraz Marri, are Kan Nagar’s better performers. Hina Chaudhry is also fine to a degree, but with few scenes of relevance, neither of her two characters give her a moment to stand out. Taqi Ahmed is a let down, even after his performance is considerably refined in the new, sharper edit of the film. Technically, the colour-grade, especially on outdoor scenes with the coal mines, is an eye-catch; perceptive eyes can note the difference in camera and formats, so working with the disparity would have been a task-and-a-half. The in and out transitions of music cues, however, need a lot of work, as does the jolting, overly bombastic choice of background score. The excessive dramatics of the score doesn’t fit the aesthetics of an unembellished and agreeable film about an honest man’s plight, and the government’s need to collect taxes from an unregulated land for the future of the country. Despite the shortcomings, however, the film makes you realise how rich Pakistan naturally is, and how corruption and bad decisions keep it from rising to its true potential.