Many people view being closeted as entirely negative. Still, filmmaker Muneeb Hassan sees it in a different light—one that is often shaped by the relationships and cultural expectations of others. In his new short film All the Men I Met But Never Dated, Hassan explores how the decision to remain closeted can express love, particularly toward more traditional family or community values. “I wanted to capture the nuance that, for many, the closet can serve as a safe space rather than just a place of oppression—a perspective often overlooked in the Western world.”

Read on to learn how Hassan brought this delicate subject to life, from portraying complex emotions to casting his two lead actors. He also discusses the unique challenges of being an independent filmmaker and what he hopes viewers take away from the film. “I hope viewers leave with a deeper empathy for those navigating similar paths and a greater appreciation for the courage it takes to honor oneself, even when doing so requires balancing cultural expectations.”

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All the Men I Met But Never Dated is inspired by the unspoken experiences of closeted Gay Muslims. What motivated you to pursue this story, and how did you envision bringing it to life on screen?

Muneeb Hassan: The motivation for this story came from the need to shed light on a reality that is often hidden and misunderstood—the unspoken experiences of closeted gay Muslims who navigate the complexities of identity, faith, and family expectations. I wanted to capture the nuance that, for many, the closet can be a safe space rather than purely a place of oppression, a perspective often overlooked in the Western world. For many men, Muslim or not, the closet represents a complex balance of identity and safety.

Interestingly, after a screening, some audience members from Fort Worth, Texas—even self-identified cowboys—shared that they saw themselves in this story and felt validated by its message. Hearing that it’s okay to date someone in the closet and that this experience can be relatable across diverse backgrounds reinforced my vision. I aimed to bring this story to life with subtle, intimate visuals and restrained dialogue, capturing these journeys’ vulnerability, resilience, and quiet strength.

 

Your film explores the complexities of love, identity, and familial duty. How did you balance these themes while developing the script?

MH: Balancing these themes was essential because they’re deeply intertwined for many people, especially those who feel divided between personal identity and family expectations. David Stokes, my co-writer, and I wanted to show that love, identity, and duty aren’t mutually exclusive but parts of a complex reality for someone like Ali. We worked to weave them naturally into Ali’s story so his decisions and conflicts would feel genuine and universally relatable, even if the specifics are unique to his experience.

David Stokes: Muneeb wrote the first draft, and I took over the writing from that point and did all of the subsequent drafts. As the story was pretty much there, my job was to rewrite Muneeb’s script to make it flow better, rewrite all of the dialogue so that it felt more realistic and authentic to the characters as well as some narrative changes that sped up the script and made sure that we always got to the heart of the scene and the emotions the characters were trying to convey.

 

Dialogue plays a significant role in your film. How did you approach writing those conversations to convey the characters’ emotions?

MH: Dialogue is powerful, especially when exploring things that are left unsaid. For Ali and Oliver, we wanted conversations that were raw and honest but also reflective of the hesitation and fear that comes with vulnerability. I approached the dialogue by focusing on subtext—sometimes, it’s what the characters avoid saying that reveals the most about their emotions. Writing these moments was about balancing tension and intimacy to bring the audience closer to their inner worlds.

 

What challenges did you face in portraying Ali’s internal struggles, especially regarding his decision to stay in the closet?

MH: Portraying Ali’s internal conflict was challenging because it’s a silent struggle that many people, especially from conservative backgrounds, can relate to but rarely express openly. It was about capturing his moments of isolation, self-doubt, and reflection without making them feel overly dramatic.

We relied on small visual cues and body language to communicate his tension, and I worked closely with Ahmed to capture the weight of these unspoken battles in his performance. Ahmed also brought his struggle into the character as a journalist and actor; he spoke not about his struggles but represented every single gay Muslim who prefers to live in a closet. 

 

What qualities did you look for in Ahmed Shihab-Eldin and Jared P-Smith, the actors who portray Ali and Oliver, and how did you find the right fit for their roles?

MH: I was looking for actors who could embody the emotional complexity of their roles with authenticity. Ahmed’s real-life experiences and empathy made him a perfect fit for Ali; he understood the character’s depth and struggle.

With Jared, I needed someone who could bring warmth and openness to the role of Oliver—a character who contrasts with Ali’s guarded nature. The chemistry between Ahmed and Jared was essential, and their dynamic truly brought the relationship to life.

 

Can you talk about working with Cinematographer Nicholas Pietroniro on the visual style you wanted to evoke? And what did your editor, Wyatt Smith provide?

MH: Nicholas and I wanted to create a visual style that reflected Ali’s internal state—soft, intimate, and sometimes isolated. We used muted tones and close framing to evoke a sense of closeness and introspection.

Wyatt Smith, ACE, our editor, brought an incredible sensitivity to the project. His precision in pacing and transitions helped amplify the emotional undercurrents without overstating them. He understood the rhythm needed to convey Ali’s journey subtly but powerfully.

As an indie filmmaker, what unique challenges did you encounter during production, and how did you navigate them?

MH: Indie filmmaking is always a balancing act between vision and resources, and with our modest budget, every decision had to be incredibly intentional. We had only 1.5 days to shoot—one day in Cold Spring and half a day in New York City—so time constraints were a significant challenge.

We focused on meticulous pre-planning to make the most of every moment on set. I had a shortlist and storyboards ready. The passion and commitment of our cast and crew were essential; everyone was fully invested in telling this story, and that collective dedication allowed us to overcome our limitations.

 

How has this film influenced your perspective on your own identity and the stories you want to tell in the future?

MH: Creating this film has been an incredibly profound journey that’s challenged and reshaped my understanding of my identity. In exploring Ali’s character, I reflected deeply on my experiences, the intricacies of cultural expectations, and what it means to navigate the space between personal truth and family loyalty.

It’s awakened a stronger desire in me to tell stories that don’t just entertain but also illuminate the unseen struggles and resilience within underrepresented communities. I’m more driven than ever to bring forth narratives that honor the complexities of identity, belonging, and strength—stories that break down stereotypes and give voice to often overlooked experiences.

 

What do you want the audience to take away from Ali’s journey and his choices regarding his relationship with Oliver?

MH: I want the audience to understand that Ali’s challenging choices are rooted in love and a deep sense of duty. His story isn’t one of rejection or shame but rather a complex balance between personal happiness and familial loyalty, a theme that resonates across cultures.

I hope viewers leave with a deeper empathy for those navigating similar paths and an appreciation for the courage it takes to honor oneself, even when it means balancing cultural expectations. Ali’s journey shows that self-acceptance and family loyalty don’t have to be mutually exclusive—they are intertwined in ways that deserve compassion and respect.