Redlight to Limelight – Made by men, carried by women

Most of the documentary is made up of clips of the making of this short film, which tells a tragic story of a mother and two daughters. The complete plot is never fully told; it seems to be partly fiction, partly based on real events. We see clips of the mother being abused by a man and the hopelessness of the daughters. There’s no denial of the fact that acting out this tale lends some power to the women. They are given a role in which they can express themselves creatively, using simple yet effective equipment. 

The overarching narrative is a larger production with a crew and funding from abroad. The cinematography is pleasant to the eye, showing the rain and almost romanticizing the area, which, in reality, is harsh and looked down upon by the rest of society. The colours are warm; there seems to be a slow pace of life. Even the streets look friendly through the lens of the camera, but at no point does the atmosphere turn grim. The camera has an observational role, acting as a fly on the wall. It stays close to the characters, but there are no interviews or follow-up questions; there is no commentary. 

One of the sex workers, Meena, a young girl, Afsara and her friend Bilkis star in the short – for the first time, they have the opportunity to act. However, they do have to play a version of themselves. There is power in the act of retelling their own story: a story of abuse, financial problems and a loss of hope. But what was missing from the beginning to the end was a female voice behind the camera. Especially when the two younger women are dragged to an audition by the male filmmakers, it leaves a sour aftertaste. With little context concerning the role they’re auditioning for, we see how Afsara freezes during her turn. She puts her hands in front of her face, while the men leading the audition tell her to go on. Afterwards, outside, Afsara starts crying, and the camera keeps on recording. 

Despite a chronological following of the events, the viewer is left in the dark about how much time passes while the short film is being made. Days, months? Sporadically, we get glimpses of the women’s day-to-day life (what the men do, apart from shooting a short film, remains a mystery). There is Bilkis, who runs her own business making and selling figurines. In a strong scene, she discusses money with her business partner. There are shots of evenings on the street, women drinking, and men following them into the alleyways. 

Throughout the film, there is nice imagery and a lot of laughter. There is quality in the fact that the women’s profession is not a central theme. However, the film uses this as its bait to create interest. The description tells us it is a film made by sex workers, whereas it is a film of a film of the sons of sex workers. There is no critique, just observation. It doesn’t reach further than this community and has nothing to say about the overarching theme of sex work as a profession. An example of a film that reaches into the depths of reality is Born into Brothels: Calcutta's Red Light Kids (Zana Briski, Ross Kauffman, 2004) – the intention of this film is a different one; it shows the dark side of the area that is the main subject in both films. 

Across the globe, there is another well-known red-light district, situated in Amsterdam, my current hometown. It is a stark comparison, as this district is located in a wealthy Western country, where sex work is legalized. But even there, the problem of human trafficking and work under coercion persists. A study in 2020 shows that the police estimate that around 50% to 85% of the sex workers in Amsterdam work against their will. A more recent article of 2025 describes that the team that is responsible for investigating illegal sex work encounters abuses in 95% of all inspections.  These numbers show the reality of the work, even when rules and laws protect it. If we return to the streets of Kolkata, there are no regulations or protections for these women at all, and the financial situation is incomparable to that in the Netherlands. Not to say that every documentary should put this context at the forefront, but it is harmful to divert the focus completely. 

Redlight to Limelight is lending the women a platform to be seen in a different light, instead of this persistent focus on their profession. But there is a thin line between showing a different side of a community and sugarcoating reality.

The article was written within the framework of the 4th Verzió Young Documentary Film Critics Workshop. Tutor: Steve Rickinson.