Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 28 May - 3 June 1998 Issue No.379
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875		Current issue | Previous issue | Site map

Marie Queenie Three's company Her name still calls to mind the kind of excitement that propelled an enthusiastic public to movie theatres in the years when films were showcases for the glamour of stars, rather than an opportunity to show off state-of-the-art technology in multi-million dollar productions Profile by Fayza Hassan An Egyptian actress called Marie Queenie? It mattered little. Actors and actresses were almost kings and queens then, often actually behaving like royalty, secure in the knowledge that the financial success of any venture depended almost solely on their pulling power at the box office. People didn't go to the movies in those days: they went to see the stars. Strange as it may seem, however, Marie Queenie's name was never meant to hint at a regal temperament or majestic expectations. "It has always been my real name," she says quietly. "My mother's name was also Marie, and, to make a distinction, my family referred to me as Queenie." In her days of glory, she was part of a famous triumvirate, of which the two other members were Asya and Ahmed Galal. "I was always the supporting actress in the films in which my aunt Asya starred," says Marie Queenie, who often played the part of the daughter. Like many aspiring actresses who made it big in the Arab world, Asya Dagher came to Egypt from Lebanon in 1922, attracted by the promising future of Egyptian cinema. Her young niece, Marie Queenie, who was six years old at the time and already showing signs of budding talent, accompanied her. "We were a very close family and Asya did not have children of her own. Taking me along was the natural thing to do," says Marie Queenie. "Later, my mother joined us in Egypt." I met the grande dame in her comfortable apartment on Roxy Square in Heliopolis. She had sounded quite commanding on the telephone, although she warned me that she did not like to speak much about her past. Only her son Nader's career -- he is a film director -- interests her, really. She would rather speak about his films; what could she say about herself? I left the question hanging and looked forward impatiently to the meeting. Nader Galal, Marie Queenie's son, opened the door and showed me in. His mother wouldn't be long, he informed me before promptly returning to his study. For a while, the silence of the cosy living room was uninterrupted; then I heard a rustling sound, like the beating wings of birds flying away in the setting sun. A tall, fair woman stood in the doorway, her head held high, her hair pulled severely away from her face. She stopped for a moment, looking around in the semi-darkness, then proceeded forward, her hand extended in warm greeting. Though her step may have been slightly uncertain, the result of a recent fall, she had made an impressive entrance. Past eighty, Marie Queenie's serene beauty is striking, her bone structure exquisite, her skin unlined, her eyes mysterious, her smile enchanting. She sits elegantly, her back perfectly straight, her hands resting on her knees. She is not feeling too strong these days: she has had a spot of heart trouble, that is why she rarely goes out now, she says, although she is not used to staying at home. With a slight shrug, she dismisses her frustration, and smiles. "Asya was my aunt, as you must know," she says. "She started out as an extra in the film Layla in 1927, but that was just a beginning, a way of getting acquainted with the world of cinema in Egypt." Two years later, on 1 May 1929, the film Ghadet Al-Sahra' (The Young Girl of the Desert), produced by Asya -- who also starred -- with Ahmed Galal as director and Marie Queenie as supporting actress, premiered. It catapulted the trio to the forefront of the film industry, a place they held until 1946, when Al-Hanem (The Lady), Asya's last film, appeared. "This trio was to be pivotal in the film industry until 1940, competing all the while with another threesome, the Lama brothers (Ibrahim and Badr) and Badreya Ra'fat," writes Mustafa Darwish in Dream Makers on the Nile: A Portrait of Egyptian Cinema. After the resounding success of Ghadet Al-Sahra', Asya established her own production company, Lotus Films. Galal directed, Asya was the leading lady, and Marie Queenie always featured prominently. The scripts produced by the Lotus company were tailored for women: Indama Tuhibb Al-Mar'a (When a Woman Loves), 1933; Uyun Sahira (Bewitching Eyes), 1934; Shagaret Al-Durr, 1935; Zawga bil Niyaba (The Substitute Wife), 1936; and Fattish 'an Al-Mar'a (Cherchez la Femme), 1939. There was one exception, however: in 1931 the company produced Wakhz Al-Damir (Pangs of Conscience) with Ibrahim Lama as director and Galal as script writer and assistant director. In 1940, Lotus Films produced Fatat Mutamarrida (Rebellious Girl). For the first time, Asya did not star. The rebellious girl was played by Marie Queenie. The film was a great box office success and, while it was still playing in cinemas across the country, Marie Queenie's marriage to Ahmed Galal was announced. Marie Queenie is rather evasive when the dispute that eventually broke up the trio in 1942 is mentioned. The partnership was dissolved and she and Galal formed Galal Films, which became Galal Studios in 1944. "We built the studio ourselves," recalls Marie Queenie. "It was towards the end of the war, you know. Galal had bought the land, but there were no building materials on the market. We purchased bits and pieces from the British troops, some metal, bricks, cement... It took a long time to complete, but eventually it was there. We needed equipment, and that too took some effort and ingenuity. We were both dedicated, so in the end we managed to build a modern studio of our own. We lived on the top floor and the studio occupied the ground floor. That way we could keep an eye on things." With the studio such a part of her everyday life, Marie Queenie had a chance to pursue her interest in some of the technical aspects of film production. "From the start I had done Asya's editing. I learned to cut and paste the rolls of film. I was very meticulous, and soon she trusted no one but me to do the job exactly as she wanted it done." In 1947, Marie Queenie, Galal and their young son Nader, were on holiday in Lebanon when Galal collapsed suddenly during his morning walk in the woods. He died almost immediately. Marie Queenie was in shock. Even now, those days are a blurred memory. She only remembers the feeling of desperate loss. Asya came to help her through the formalities of taking Galal's body back to Egypt. "Nader was barely six. I was a widow, and a poor one at that. I realised that I couldn't afford to mourn for a long time, but all the same, I could not bring myself to do anything about it. I used to walk around the rooms in our apartment, thinking that, if I did not snap out of my grief, I would have to sell the studio. Studios are expensive to maintain. One night, as Nader was sleeping, I went down to the studio. I had not been there since Galal's death. I started playing with a roll of film and, after a while, I decided that I would go back to work editing films. I had no desire to act, but I knew that concentrating on a manual task would help me pull through. Later, I did accept a few parts, but my interest was really in raising Nader." She never seems to have thought of remarrying: it would never have occurred to her. The turbulent world of cinema romance was alien to her. She remained aloof, devoted to her child and the mission of perpetuating the family business. Her son followed in the family's footsteps and studied at the Cinema Institute. Marie Queenie is proud of Nader. She says he is now "a great director like his father". She kept on working and gathered information on all the new techniques used in film-making, purchasing state-of-the-art equipment so as not to be outdistanced by competitors. Studio Galal was soon one of the best privately owned studios in Egypt, and doing very well. There is a whole generation of film directors who harbour fond memories of the pleasant atmosphere at the studio in Hadayeq Al-Qubba, where many made their debuts. Marie Queenie eventually retired, but not before she was sure that Nader was carrying on the family tradition. There is a degree of sadness in her eyes as she suddenly falls silent. "In the old days, the telephone never stopped ringing," she says wistfully. "Journalists followed me everywhere and begged me for a few words or a picture. Now, the only telephone calls we get are for Nader." I sense that she will not want her picture taken. "Can you give me one of your pictures, from when you were in the movies?" I ask on an impulse. She is gone for a while, then comes back holding half a dozen pictures in a file. She lets me choose one. We contemplate the charming portraits for a while, silent. "You were so beautiful," I tell her. She nods slightly and smiles at the memories. "The future belongs to Nader now," she says firmly.