DIRECTOR SPOTLIGHTNina Zehri
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Beep Test explores the pressures and challenges faced by women athletes in competitive sports. How did your own experiences as a professional soccer player in Pakistan shape the narrative and emotional core of this film?
Every time I stepped onto the soccer field, I felt alive, like I truly belonged. Soccer taught me to express myself, embrace who I am, and live in the moment. Playing professionally in Pakistan, where women's freedoms are often restricted, the game gave me a sense of liberation. On the field, I felt limitless and free. But the environment shifted when coaches and management started reducing the game to mere numbers and results. The joy of playing from the heart faded, replaced by a focus on performance at any cost, often disregarding the mental health of players. Favoritism and lack of accountability left many of us feeling unsupported. This shift led me to lose my love for the game, something I never thought would happen. For two years, I struggled to reconnect with soccer, feeling disconnected from a passion I once cherished. This emotional void inspired me to create Beep Test.
Every time I stepped onto the soccer field, I felt alive, like I truly belonged. Soccer taught me to express myself, embrace who I am, and live in the moment. Playing professionally in Pakistan, where women's freedoms are often restricted, the game gave me a sense of liberation. On the field, I felt limitless and free. But the environment shifted when coaches and management started reducing the game to mere numbers and results. The joy of playing from the heart faded, replaced by a focus on performance at any cost, often disregarding the mental health of players. Favoritism and lack of accountability left many of us feeling unsupported. This shift led me to lose my love for the game, something I never thought would happen. For two years, I struggled to reconnect with soccer, feeling disconnected from a passion I once cherished. This emotional void inspired me to create Beep Test.
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In Pakistan, women's soccer is controlled by men, with little regard for players' mental well-being. We're told to be grateful for the opportunity to play, even without pay or emotional support. Our national women's team players are not paid, our club players are not paid and yet we are expected to perform, and stay quiet when wronged. Discrimination based on age and bias against women speaking up for their rights are widespread. When we voice our concerns, we’re often ridiculed as "old" players disrupting the team dynamic. Therefore many players do not speak up because they see that those who do are kicked out of the team.
The frustration I felt became the driving force behind the film. With the help of my producer, Sam Permar, and my professor, Julia Halperin, I channeled my emotions into writing and directing Beep Test. Filming it became a process of healing, helping me understand why I distanced myself from soccer. The film captures the raw emotions of players who feel wronged, a feeling I wanted to express and share with the world. |
The beep test is a grueling and highly symbolic element in the story. Why did you choose this specific test as the centerpiece for exploring the protagonist’s struggles?
The beep test is a powerful metaphor for the pressure we face as players, both physically and mentally. Its rhythmic beeping, the constant demand to push harder, and the growing sense of competition reduce a player's value to a number—a score that reflects only their physical fitness, ignoring the mental and emotional toll of the game. The beep test doesn't measure experience, resilience, or the mental health of the player, only their capacity to keep pushing until they break.
The beep test is a powerful metaphor for the pressure we face as players, both physically and mentally. Its rhythmic beeping, the constant demand to push harder, and the growing sense of competition reduce a player's value to a number—a score that reflects only their physical fitness, ignoring the mental and emotional toll of the game. The beep test doesn't measure experience, resilience, or the mental health of the player, only their capacity to keep pushing until they break.
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In my film, the beep test symbolizes the inner conflict that Imaan, faces. She has been the star player, the best on the team, but now she is overwhelmed—her body is exhausted, and her mental health is deteriorating. While her mind still wants to keep up with the relentless beeps, her physical and emotional limits can no longer bear the strain. The beeps become a constant reminder of the pressure to perform, pushing her to keep going, even when everything inside her is telling her to stop.
This is the moment when athletes start to feel like machines—pushed beyond their limits without regard for the wear and tear on their bodies or minds. The mechanical voice of the beeps echoes the internal voices of self-doubt and exhaustion, pushing Imaan to keep going even as she falters. The staring coach, watching her with little empathy, amplifies the pressure, offering no real support or understanding. |
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What changes or conversations in the sports world do you hope this film will inspire?
This film is for female athletes who feel silenced, undervalued, and made to believe their worth is determined by those in power—coaches, managers, or anyone else. It's for the women in Pakistan who play without pay, for those told their bodies are "too strange" or "not athletic enough," and for those who’ve been denied a spot on the team simply for speaking out about their rights.
It’s dedicated to anyone who has ever felt injustice—who has sat on the substitute bench or stood alone on the field, ignored or overlooked. Who wasn't passed the ball because the favored player didn't trust them. I want to advocate for better mental health support for athletes and hold coaches accountable for decisions that are unfair or biased.
This film is a call for a healthier, more supportive environment for women in sports, where their voices are heard and their well-being is prioritized
This film is for female athletes who feel silenced, undervalued, and made to believe their worth is determined by those in power—coaches, managers, or anyone else. It's for the women in Pakistan who play without pay, for those told their bodies are "too strange" or "not athletic enough," and for those who’ve been denied a spot on the team simply for speaking out about their rights.
It’s dedicated to anyone who has ever felt injustice—who has sat on the substitute bench or stood alone on the field, ignored or overlooked. Who wasn't passed the ball because the favored player didn't trust them. I want to advocate for better mental health support for athletes and hold coaches accountable for decisions that are unfair or biased.
This film is a call for a healthier, more supportive environment for women in sports, where their voices are heard and their well-being is prioritized
What inspired you to pursue filmmaking, and how has your journey evolved over time?
When I was nine, my father gave me a VHS camera, and it completely changed the way I saw the world. I was fascinated by how pointing the camera at someone could make them come alive — whether they were dancing, acting, laughing, or just being themselves. It felt real and raw, and I realized the power of film to capture and express human emotions.
Film became a way for me to share something meaningful with the world. My journey began by making videos about women’s soccer in Pakistan, and through this, I found a deep passion for storytelling. Over time, filmmaking became not just a creative outlet, but a tool for empowerment. It helped me find my voice, and now I see it as a career path where I can raise others’ voices too. I want to use film to inspire change, shed light on important issues, and give power to those who often go unheard.
When I was nine, my father gave me a VHS camera, and it completely changed the way I saw the world. I was fascinated by how pointing the camera at someone could make them come alive — whether they were dancing, acting, laughing, or just being themselves. It felt real and raw, and I realized the power of film to capture and express human emotions.
Film became a way for me to share something meaningful with the world. My journey began by making videos about women’s soccer in Pakistan, and through this, I found a deep passion for storytelling. Over time, filmmaking became not just a creative outlet, but a tool for empowerment. It helped me find my voice, and now I see it as a career path where I can raise others’ voices too. I want to use film to inspire change, shed light on important issues, and give power to those who often go unheard.
What do you hope audiences take away from your films?
I don't expect everyone to like my films, but if they make you think and expand your perspective on life, that's a success. I hope my films take viewers to places they might not have considered before, encouraging them to reflect on human experiences in ways that feel personal and meaningful to them.
I don't expect everyone to like my films, but if they make you think and expand your perspective on life, that's a success. I hope my films take viewers to places they might not have considered before, encouraging them to reflect on human experiences in ways that feel personal and meaningful to them.
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Nina Zehri is a director, editor and cinematographer currently based in Boston, MA. Born and raised in Pakistan, she has dedicated her efforts to creating impactful documentaries and narrative films that focus on climate change, women empowerment and social injustices. One of her recent achievements includes the selection of her short film "In Terram" at the Salem Film Festival. She is currently pursuing her MFA in Film and Media Art at Emerson College.
You can find more about her work at : https://ninazehri.com/ |
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