Jumping from country to
country, Sharma finds gay men and lesbians living in exile from their original
homes, and lets them tell their stories about growing up feeling different from
their peers, then trying to suppress their desires by getting married, then
fleeing their community when the truth comes out. Sharma frames Jihad's subjects tightly,
isolating them from their communities, and because so many faces have to be
blurred for privacy reasons, the movie looks a little abstract at times. But
even though the message that people should have the right to love whomever they
want is hardy groundbreaking, Parvez captures some interesting conversations
about what it means to be gay and Muslim.
One woman talks about how
she enjoys wearing the hijab, because it lets her feel normal and anonymous.
One Egyptian man recalls being put on trial with 50 other clubgoers for the
vague crime of "debauchery." Another Egyptian man, now based in Capetown,
spends his days doing radio interviews and lectures, trying to convince his
community that the Koran is actually ambiguous about whether homosexuality is a
sin. The people he talks to are skeptical but polite, even as they're saying
that they believe he should be stoned to death. Perhaps he'd have better luck
if he used the argument of one Turkish lesbian, who contends, "We have no
right, if we are truly Muslim, to alter Allah's creation."
