Imagine being just a teenager, only to have your innocence shattered by a traumatic encounter with racial profiling. This is the stark reality that fuels Imran Perretta’s haunting debut film, *Ish, a lyrical exploration of racial injustice that has already captivated audiences at the Venice Critics’ Week. But here’s where it gets controversial: can art truly heal the wounds of systemic racism, or does it merely expose the depth of the problem? *Ish doesn’t shy away from asking these tough questions.
Co-written with the acclaimed Enda Walsh (known for Die My Love and Hunger) and produced by Dhiraj Mahey through Primal Pictures in collaboration with BBC Film, Ish follows the story of Ish and Maram, two young friends whose lives are upended by a racially charged police stop-and-search. The film, starring Farhan Hasnat, Yahya Kitana, and Sudha Bhuchar, is set to screen at the 69th BFI London Film Festival (LFF), where it’s already generating buzz for its naturalistic performances, unconventional score (composed by Perretta himself), and striking monochrome cinematography. And this is the part most people miss: it’s not just a film about trauma; it’s a testament to resilience and the power of self-discovery in the face of adversity.
During an LFF Industry Days session moderated by Mariayah Kaderbhai, former BAFTA head of programs, Perretta, Mahey, and Walsh offered a rare glimpse into the film’s creation. Perretta revealed that Ish was deeply personal, drawing from his own experiences as a teenager. ‘The loss of innocence is baked into the coming-of-age narrative,’ he explained. ‘For me, that moment came at 13, when I was dragged into a police van. It was the moment I became an adult, whether I wanted to or not.’ This raw vulnerability is what makes Ish so compelling—it’s a story of heartbreak and loss, but also of political awakening and self-determination.
What’s truly remarkable is how Ish evolved from Perretta’s personal trauma into a collaborative masterpiece. Walsh recalled being drawn to the ‘beautiful soul’ of the 1,000-page first draft, despite its flaws. ‘It had a three-act structure, which I love,’ he said. ‘It was about manipulating tension, withholding information, and placing the audience squarely within the narrative.’ Mahey, meanwhile, shared the high-stakes journey of getting the film to Venice after missing deadlines for Berlin and Cannes. ‘It was all or nothing,’ he admitted.
Working with a cast of non-professional young actors added another layer of complexity. ‘We partnered with We Are Bridge, experts in working with young talent,’ Mahey explained. ‘We had youth workers, specialists, and chaperones on set to ensure their safety and well-being.’ The casting of Yahya Kitana, a British-Palestinian actor, also led to a pivotal shift in the film’s narrative. ‘Gaza was always part of the script,’ Perretta noted. ‘But casting Yahya made us re-examine Maram’s character to better reflect his cultural context. What does it mean for a young Palestinian boy to see those images daily, to reckon with them while being so far from family? We felt a responsibility to get it right.’
The chemistry between Hasnat and Kitana, who’ve known each other since childhood, was the icing on the cake. ‘They were real-life best mates,’ Perretta marveled. ‘It was a gift.’
Ish is more than a film—it’s a conversation starter. Does it romanticize trauma, or does it amplify voices that are too often silenced? Is it enough to portray these experiences, or should art demand systemic change? These are the questions Ish leaves us with, and they’re worth discussing. What do you think? Does art have the power to heal, or is it just a mirror to our deepest wounds? Let’s talk about it in the comments.
