Exclusive: Sanam Saeed opens up on representing Pakistani cinema, culture at Cannes 2026

There is a story from Cannes 1976 that Shabana Azmi tells with fond disbelief. She and Smita Patil, dressed in their finest saris, doing something that would be unthinkable at today's Cannes: walking up and down the Promenade des Anglais, stopping strangers, and personally pleading with them to come watch Nishant. No publicist, no red carpet, no couture. Just two women and the nerve of believing their film deserved to be seen. Shyam Benegal’s genius, Azmi once wrote, was trusting exactly that. They filled the house. 

Cannes in 2026 is a different beast. The famous staircase outside the Palais, the one that has become fashion’s most photographed parade, consumes so much oxygen that the question of what actually plays inside can feel almost secondary. The noise is glorious, the fashion frequently extraordinary, and yet something nags. Somewhere between the couture fittings and the yacht parties, the fundamental premise of the festival, that cinema is an act of witness, of collective dreaming, of political and emotional truth telling, can seem like a footnote. 

Recommended For You

Trump says US will hit Iran 'very hard' tonight, take control over Kharg Island

Iran says 2 ships hit in Hormuz, US Fifth fleet targeted in Bahrain

US attacks third Indian-crewed vessel near Oman for violating blockade

Child injured, vehicles and buildings damaged in Bahrain after Iranian attack: Ministry

Strait of Hormuz closed 'until further notice' after US strikes: PGSA

 

Stay up to date with the latest news. Follow KT on WhatsApp Channels.

And then there are the ones who refuse to let it be a footnote. 

Sanam Saeed arrived at Cannes 2026 carrying none of the anxiety one might expect of a first timer navigating the world’s most scrutinised red carpet. She arrived instead with a list. Of names. Of women. Of debts owed and not yet paid. A tribute to prepare. A celebration to host. A fashion exhibit to champion. Work to do. 

One of Pakistan’s most celebrated actresses attended Cannes this year as the inaugural honouree of Us Studios’ South Asian Women Excellence in Cinema and Arts initiative, while also becoming the only Pakistani actress walking the red carpet at the festival this year. Before leaving for France, she called Mahira Khan and Sarwat Gilani, two women who had experienced Cannes before her. Their advice was simple: stop overthinking it and enjoy the moment. 

Still, she admits there was hesitation at first. 

“I remember thinking, I’m not going with a brand, I’m not attached to a film, so why exactly am I here?” she says, laughing softly now at the memory. “But then I tuned everything else out and focused on the reason. I was there to represent Pakistani women and South Asian women. That changed everything. Pakistani drama is powered by women. Our stories are mostly written by women, watched by women, carried by women. The heroines are women. The impact is on women. There is such powerful storytelling happening in Pakistan and suddenly it felt less intimidating and more deeply meaningful.” 

That sense of purpose shaped the rest of her Cannes experience. The annual debate around the festival, whether it is now more fashion spectacle than film event, never particularly interested her because she arrived with clarity about what she wanted to say. Sanam wore Hussain Rehar, the Lahori designer whose “Source/Extract” exhibit became one of the quieter but more politically charged conversations at Cannes this year. The installation questioned the way global luxury fashion borrows heavily from South Asian craft traditions while rarely acknowledging where those inspirations originate. 

For Sanam, the collaboration was never merely aesthetic. 

“There was no pressure of carrying a brand or fitting into some campaign,” she says. “There was no strict agenda attached to this trip. What mattered was being able to speak about our cultural heritage and the source behind so much of what the world now consumes as luxury fashion. Whether it’s the khussa, the jhumka, the dupatta, or zardozi, these are traditions with history and identity attached to them. So this felt more rewarding because we were actually speaking about the unseen labour and the cultural roots behind fashion.” 

Then she smiles. “And honestly, Hussain Rehar is a genius. The outfit felt completely like me.” 

Her appearance at Cannes also came at a significant professional moment. Her performance in Kafeel has already been described by critics and audiences alike as career defining, a performance of unusual restraint and emotional precision. But Sanam insists the journey from Kafeel to Cannes was less about individual achievement and more about someone finally deciding Pakistan deserved space on the global stage. 

The invitation came through a Pakistani American producer based in New York who had spent years attending international festivals and repeatedly asking the same question: where are the Pakistanis? 

“He realised the gap wasn’t talent, it was representation,” Sanam says. “We already have the work. Pakistani television itself proves that. Kafeel may have helped strengthen the case, but honestly our industry already shows the power of our storytelling. The problem is not that the work doesn’t exist. The problem is who is building the bridge to global spaces.” 

That idea of building bridges became central to her time at Cannes. On May 15, Sanam hosted the South Asian Women Excellence celebration at Château Saint George, bringing together artists and filmmakers from across the region. One of the emotional centrepieces of the evening was a tribute to Shamim Ara, one of Pakistani cinema’s pioneering actresses, producers, and directors. 

Sanam speaks about women like Shamim Ara not with nostalgia, but with urgency. 

“We celebrate these women far too occasionally,” she says. “We should be studying their work, preserving their scenes and songs, checking in on them, making sure they are cared for financially and medically. The women before us worked in conditions far tougher than ours. Whatever control or visibility we have in the industry today exists because they survived those spaces first.” 

The conversation eventually circles back to visibility itself, specifically the kind of labour that never makes headlines. You cannot simply make great work and expect the world to find it. Someone has to walk the Promenade. Throughout Cannes, Sanam repeatedly used interviews and appearances to speak not just about actresses and their work, but also about the women behind the frame: the embroiderers, artisans, stylists, and workers whose names rarely appear anywhere near the spotlight. 

“We kept asking ourselves, who are the women behind all this?” she says. “The women sewing for hours, working behind fittings, creating quietly, holding everything together behind the scenes. Those are the women we wanted to make visible.” 

She recalls asking for the names of the people involved in creating her red carpet look and realising how invisible most of them remained despite the labour involved. 

“So much work happens in the darzi khana and the studios for endless hours. And often women working behind the scenes are balancing homes and children alongside that work. We talk so much about the faces on the carpet, but what about the women making it all possible?” She acknowledges the women who do the make-up that helps an actor become someone else entirely; their names don’t appear in the press notes. “The costume designer whose research into period fabrics made a historical drama feel true she might get a line in a trade publication, if she is lucky”. Sanam has made it her specific business, at this festival, to make these women visible. 

The South Asian presence at Cannes 2026 felt larger than ever this year. Demi Moore and Cate Blanchett continued their long standing association with the festival, while Alia Bhatt, Aditi Rao Hydari, Tara Sutaria, Ammy Virk, and Roopi Gill arrived with projects and premieres of their own. And then there is Sanam, and Roma Riaz, Miss Universe Pakistan 2025, who host the Expedition Gala. Two Pakistani women on the Croisette, in a year when the South Asian presence feels less like an annual delegation and more like the beginning of something structural. 

But for Sanam, visibility only matters if it becomes sustained. 

“Pakistan needs people who can build the bridge between the work happening at home and the global stage,” she says. “There has always been space for us internationally. The question is who helps us get there. Whether you call that an agent, a promoter, a studio, or simply someone passionate enough to create those opportunities, that role matters.” 

She credits Us Studios for attempting exactly that. Moments are photogenic and temporary. Movements require infrastructure, consistency, institutional memory, and people willing to do the unglamorous work of showing up year after year, in the rooms that matter, having the conversations that build the pipeline. 

“They are a small startup doing quiet but meaningful work. This was the first time they tried something like this and it worked. The hope now is that it doesn’t remain a one time thing. The idea is to have Pakistani representatives at Cannes every year, new names, new talent, new voices. This is not merely a moment, it’s a movement".  

And perhaps that is the real significance of Sanam Saeed at Cannes. Not simply that she walked the staircase everyone photographs, but that she arrived determined to look beyond it. 

Sadiq Saleem is a UAE based writer & can be contacted on his Instagram handle @sadiqidas.