Alif is reminiscent of an old Pakistani drama but maybe that's what makes it work.

Like much of Umera Ahmad's work, Alif begins on a melancholy note.

A little boy played by the adorable Pehlaj Hussain is writing letters to Allah, praying for his father to return. The little boy lives in Istanbul with his mother, who's also hoping and waiting till she breaks down and finally writes to her husband's father.

Sadly, the excitement of the grandfather's (Manzar Sehbai) arrival is short-lived as no one knows where the little boy's father has gone.

Poetically named Qalb-e-Momin (Hamza Ali Abbasi), the little boy has grown up and like his mother, Husn-e-Jahan (a famous actress), he is also part of the movie industry except that he has become an acclaimed director.

He flaunts his achievements and is ruthless in maintaining his hard-earned status, but behind all the studied hedonism and arrogance is a childhood filled with pain and separation.

Momina (Sajal Aly) is another wounded soul, a young woman seeking a better connection to God; she feels like a misfit in the highly competitive entertainment industry she works in. The daughter of a makeup artist and a small-time side female actor, despite her acknowledged talent, she cannot seem to make it 'big' because of her unwillingness to make the 'compromises' required to get the right roles.

Her first meeting with Momin is a clash of values, which her increasing desperation for money leads her to regret. While Momin recognises her talent, he too refuses to cast her because the role is for a vamp and she will not uncover for the kind of glamour required. 'Agar itni sati savitri bana hai toh jao ghar ja kay burqay main beto,' he shouts at her .

Sajal Aly as Momina will tug at your heartstrings.

Alif has an old-fashioned, even dated feel to it which hasn't dissipated after three episodes. However, the dialogues and the story move at a sharp pace, thankfully avoiding the lengthy speeches and scenes that sink a lot of serials with a more philosophical bent.

We can give director Haseeb Hassan a lot of the credit for that and even more credit for managing to run two different timelines in one story without confusing the general audience.

While Hassan's skillful weaving of past and present has saved Alif from turning into a tiresome melodrama of contrived misery (where no one but the much put upon Momina has a decent thought), a starker, less sentimental approach might have made it even better.

The casting is another unlikely coup for the director who has brought together a surprisingly fresh...