Inspired by hallmarks of queer cinema, including My Beautiful Laundrette (1985), The Wedding Banquet (1993), and Happy Together (1997), Dockendorf worked with his lead actors to find humanity in their characters and not necessarily define them by sexuality, race, or religion. “The world doesn’t need so many more films about a character like me,” Dockendorf said, referring to the ubiquity of films with a straight, white, male protagonist. But that’s where the strengths of the film lie.
Naz & Maalik is a film spotlighting two gay characters of color, so it runs the risk of exotifying or othering because it was created by a white filmmaker. While questioning the teens separately, the FBI agent gets two different stories. This arc propels Naz and Maalik to confront personal honesty, and how they relate to each other in public and private settings. The FBI surveillance in Naz & Maalik exaggerates the suspicion of the agent, who misinterprets the couple's sneaking around as something more nefarious. “And it was also uncanny-very weird-the idea that the government would manifest itself in a person who was lying to them.” “It so infuriated me that a group of students had to undergo such a large scale betrayal or act of dishonesty when they were completely innocent,” he said. Even the thought of government infiltration of student organizations, he said, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Undercover operatives for the NYPD called “rakers,” as well as informants known as “mosque crawlers,” infiltrated communities they considered suspect, despite having no evidence of wrongdoing. Dockendorf was appalled when he first read about this. The Associated Press published a story in August 2011 about the wide-scale surveillance of minority communities by New York Police Department and the Central Intelligence Agency. But the added element of government surveillance came from the young director’s shock when he found out that CIA and FBI operatives had been infiltrating Muslim student groups since Sept. His roommate’s story of growing up a gay, closeted Muslim became the basis for Naz & Maalik. He described this roommate as a Pakistani man in his late twenties, living a double life similar to that of his protagonists. We hope that you will benefit and grow spiritually as a result of this experience.”īorn and raised in Los Angeles, California, Dockendorf graduated from Yale in 2011 and drew inspiration for the characters from a post-college roommate in Bed-Stuy. “If you’re with the NYPD or you’re with the FBI: Welcome, sincerely,” the imam, who leads everyone in prayer, says in a calming voice. Men greet each other as they remove their shoes. The tension between Naz and Maalik pauses for a moment when they attend salah, a daily prayer service, at a Bed-Stuy mosque. In fact, surveillance is a prominent theme throughout the film-the feeling confronts viewers within the first 10 minutes. Naz & Maalik plays with that tension throughout the story, adding the feeling that they’re always being watched-by family, community, and a suspicious FBI agent who wants to “get to know the neighborhood.”
The two black, closeted, Muslim teenagers make their way through Brooklyn, while reconciling their feelings as best friends and lovers with their religion, which considers homosexuality a sin. The film tells the story of a day in the life of its two titular protagonists, Naz and Maalik, the day after they have sex with each other for the first time. But the feature-film debut of director Jay Dockendorf is anything but conventional. On the surface, Naz & Maalik has the conventional characteristics of low-budget, independent cinema: The cast is small, it's dialogue-heavy, and the streets of Brooklyn serve as the setting.