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Al-Ahram Weekly 4 -10 February 1999 Issue No. 415 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 4 -10 February 1999 Issue No. 415
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Book Fair Economy Opinion Culture Features Living Travel Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters No boring questions, please
By Tarek AtiaAdel Imam was on his home turf at the Book Fair seminar. The impressive cement and glass Six of October Hall was filled to capacity with legions of his admirers and fans. Imam sat at the front of the room, with Samir Sarhan, head of the General Egyptian Book Organisation, at his side acting as moderator. It was very hot under the television lights, and a huge crowd was milling outside. Apparently, people had been waiting for Imam since the early afternoon.
It quickly became clear that this was not to be a heated discussion, but more of a photo op. Sarhan urged the questioners to avoid harsh journalistic inquiries and encouraged non-journalists to step up and ask their favourite star about anything their heart desired. Predictably, one of the first questions was about how Imam felt about competing with overnight comedy star, Mohamed Heneidi, for the limelight. He quickly and diplomatically answered the question by saying: "It's not a horse race," while Sarhan piped in his opinion that questions about Heneidi were boring.
It was apparent that long, tough questions would be answered by Imam with a brush off and a few choice, slightly perturbed words, while professions of admiration would be taken in stride. Any photo opportunity would be highly welcomed.
Examples of this abounded. One enthusiastic young man said that if the West had the technology to produce better films, at least we here in Egypt have "feelings". Imam cut him off with a disgusted frown: "They have feelings too." He also brushed away the next question about why Egyptian films don't win Oscars with a disgusted chuckle and the abrupt response: "When we invent spaceships, maybe then we can compete on that level."
There was typical chaos in the questions. One young man relayed a long story about how security guards had confiscated the dossier he had planned to give Imam as he came in. "Please make sure you read the dossier," he said, although it was fairly obvious no such thing would happen.
Classical abstraction in the dance world has to be faced -- it is historic and will never die so long as theatre lives. People love it, not least because it is dangerous to do. It requires brave, tough and dedicated souls, all of which the big public adores. And so do composers, directors and Abdel-Moneim Kamel.
A young man who couldn't get the smile off his face wanted to know what Imam thought of rural theatre. Imam said he fully supported it and was always urging for more government support.
"No one is above criticism," Imam said at one point, but when the next questioner asked him why Risala Min Al-Wali (A message from the Wali -- one of his latest films) didn't do so well at the box office, Imam cut her off by refuting the assumption that the film didn't do well, and proceeded to the next question.
Perhaps lucky for Imam, the next guy said, "I don't have a question, I just want to kiss you." Imam kissed the guy on both cheeks, then turned to the audience and said, "Are there any ladies who want a kiss?"
The crowd cracked up, of course. The next questioner said, "I struggled for two hours to get to the microphone and I want to be rewarded for that by being allowed to take a commemorative picture with Adel Imam." Imam said "sure" and the picture was taken.
The next questioner said, "I just wanted to thank Adel Imam and Dr Samir Ragab for this seminar," at which point Dr Samir Sarhan informed him that he was not Samir Ragab, and the man apologised, saying, "Forgive me for any mistakes I make because this is the first time I have stood in front of the great artist Adel Imam." And that was all he wanted to say.
A questioner asked angrily when Imam might decide to do a play at the National Theatre so that people of average-income could attend. Imam quickly answered: "Tickets for the National Theatre are expensive now too."
A young man from Shubra asked him if he would agree to act in a film directed by his son Rami, to which Imam replied, "Yes, I would."
After an hour and a half of this type of chit-chat, the seminar ended suddenly and Imam was whisked away as nearly everyone in the audience attempted to join him on his way out. A minor brawl ensued when a woman with a camera insisted that her son was ill and that he had been promised a picture with Imam. The bodyguards and security personnel finally agreed to let her through. Imam posed for the photo before jumping into his sleek sedan. As the car moved, some people ran after it and the crowds in front of the hall dispersed. A few minutes later, the place was practically deserted.
