Al-Ahram Weekly   Al-Ahram Weekly
4 -10 February 1999
Issue No. 415
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 Back issues Current issue

 
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Full house

By Injy El-Kashef

This year, the organisers of the Book Fair have attached great importance to the fringe events, especially those which involve the performing arts. The result has been separate programmes and venues for the projection of films and the staging of plays, in addition to the now well-established tradition of seminar-debates on important intellectual issues. Previous fairs had also witnessed such outlying activities, but they had been carried on in a rather haphazard manner: independent theatre troupes and filmmakers occasionally contrived to show their work to the large audiences which flock to the fair, seizing whatever venue was free to accommodate them, or setting up their own tents for themselves. This year, however, it is a very different affair.

Although inside the fair itself there is no indication as to what events might be going on where, or how to find any specific pavilion or tent, the programmes published in the newspapers indicate those venues which are hosting plays and films. True, they do not provide any information about events or times: but still, the venue is not a bad start.

Most seminars focusing on the performing arts, as well as some theatre shows, can be found in Saraya Almania B (German Hall B). Last Thursday, the programme listed two interesting seminars: the first brought together documentary film director Attiyat El-Abnoudi and short film director Hala Khalil, for a discussion of their respective trades, while the second centred on two adaptations of Youssef El-Seba'i's novel Rodda Qalbi, first as a film during the fifties, and then as a television series broadcast last Ramadan.

The speakers at the second seminar included journalist Magda Maurice from Al-Gomhouriya and stars from the television production. Mustafa Moharram, scriptwriter of the TV series, was also among those present. He explained that having read and tremendously enjoyed the 1000-page novel, he did not feel the film did it justice. In his view, the film version concentrated almost entirely on the love story between Ali and Enji -- which occupies only half of the novel -- without tackling the political issues which El-Seba'i had explored in the rest of his book. It was this injustice which he sought to correct by adapting Rodda Qalbi for television, since the medium meant he would have ample screen time to cover every aspect of the book.

Maurice, however, took issue with Moharram, claiming that, instead of using the extra time to do what he had said -- something of which she would have approved -- he had padded the work out with meticulously-rendered, and largely irrelevant details, such as those of Enji's upbringing. Furthermore, she criticised the way in which viewers had to wait until the penultimate episode of the serial to find out exactly who or what were the Free Officers. Moharram retorted that since television is subject to greater censorship than the cinema, it was difficult to tackle political issues in the way he would have wished.

The discussion shed its solemn tone once the actors started taking questions. Ahmed El-Saqqa, in particular, seemed to have no difficulty at all extracting great roars of laughter from the audience, turning a potentially interesting talk into an extended and hilarious joke. Egyptian audiences have quite a sense of humour; a little provocation is all it needs to get them going.

After the Rodda Qalbi event, the same venue saw a performance of Al-Lagna (that is "The Committee", which is to say "Le Comité", -- the play prides itself on being trilingual). Directed by Ahmed El-Attar, the work has already been presented at several other venues, including the American University in Cairo. Both the dialogue and the acting of Salah Fahmi, Nadine Khan and Noha Farouk were impressive when last seen, but I wondered how the book fair public would react, since the work touches on sensitive issues, addressing the torment of the individual oppressed by social, religious, economic and political labels.

The difference between a regular public which, of its own free will, sets aside an evening of its life to attend a theatrical performance, and the book fair public is considerable. The former is usually driven by an interest in the theatre, or in a particular performance, usually stemming from some awareness of the play or of the quality of the script, cast or crew. In other words, it is a public that has mentally prepared itself to attend a theatrical performance which, in most cases, is not its first. The book fair public, on the other hand, consists mainly of families with children on an outing, and is more or less unprepared for what is to come. Consequently, the play tends to hit them with their defences down. As a result, they may prove a more receptive and more reactive audience -- whether for better, or for worse.

Another theatrical event, and one which was probably more directly appealing to the public, was Al-Warsha's Ghazl Al-A'mar (Spinning Lives), directed by Hassan El-Gretli. The actors, endowed with beautiful voices, recite the epic story of Beni Hilal, and its hero Abu Zeid El-Helali. This too is a piece which has already been performed many times. It is an impressive work, which has always drawn crowds larger than any single venue could hold. It was an innovative performance when it was first produced, but one wonders now if it may not be time for the troupe to consider doing something new.
Asfour Min Al-Sharq Asfour Min Al-Sharq (A Bird from the East)

When it came to the cinema, we were in for something of a disappointment. The first let-down came with the discovery that the films were to be projected in video. One wonders what was the point of showing them at all, in that case, given that a majority of the titles are classics which can be seen regularly on television. The second let-down was the audience, which consisted almost entirely of children whose parents seemed to have left them parked there while they went to browse round the stands in peace. Not that that should be surprising, really, since most of the children's books on sale at the fair cost a fortune.

Most of the films being shown are adaptations of literary classics, with an obvious preference for the work of Tawfik El-Hakim, including Yawmiyat Na'ib fil-Aryaf (Diary of a Country Magistrate), Asfour Min Al-Sharq (A Bird from the East), Al-Khoroug Min Al-Ganna (Descent from Paradise) and Haya Aw Mout (Life or Death).

The highlight of the week, however, was the seminar on documentaries and short films. Greeted by a crowd which, to their delight, was much larger than they had expected, Attiyat El-Abnoudi and Hala Khalil embarked on an impassioned discussion of the current state of their respective branches of film-making. One of the important issues raised was the particularity of their chosen forms. Khalil explained that since people are not exposed to any cinematic form other than the mainstream long feature, they hardly know anything about other kinds of film.

She went on to explain that a short film is best thought of as a feature film which is shorter and can boast no stars. A member of the public asked her why famous actors did not perform in short films, since this would be of obvious benefit to the medium in broadening its public appeal. Her answer was that one of the objectives of such films is to provide a showcase for a new generation of undiscovered talent in all departments -- not just the director and the crew, but the cast as well.

Similarly, El-Abnoudi was asked why she did not also direct "normal" films, to which she answered: "Because I direct documentaries. It is what I do in life. It is what I have always wanted. When I was still a student I saw a printed copy of the Description de l'Egypte, -- a detailed account of Egypt made by the French during the occupation. Since that time, it has been my dream to create a series of documentary films that could also be called Wasf Misr (The Description of Egypt) -- but this time, described by an Egyptian, through Egyptian eyes." The public's approval of her words was clear from their enthusiastic applause.

Discussing the poor production and distribution facilities with which she had to struggle, Khalil said that the public's lack of interest in short films was not a good reason for their neglect. In fact, she argued that this lack of interest is a myth, since people never have the chance to see such films and find out whether they are interested in them or not. Khalil related her own experience with her recent highly-acclaimed film Tiri ya Taiyara (Fly the Kite), which was screened every night at Al-Hanager for an entire week, with little, if any publicity. Although on the first night the audience could be counted on the fingers of one hand, the other six shows were so full that there was not even standing space left. One member of the audience came several times. When Khalil asked him why, he told her that he knew he would not be able to see the film again, once the week was over.

Khalil mentioned that the Ministry of Culture had issued a law -- which has never been applied -- stipulating that cinemas should show a short or documentary film before the main feature. However, she said that she thought it was a humiliating way to treat her chosen medium: "I do not want anyone to be forced to watch my films. What I would like is for the public to seek them out. People are more interested than is generally believed: the proof is all of you who have come to this seminar." El-Abnoudi, however, had no objection at all to her documentaries being force-fed to audiences: "I want people to see my films in every possible way, even if it is by force. Once they are used to documentaries, they will develop an interest. Only then will they go and look for them.".

El-Abnoudi's enthusiasm is infectious, but I wonder if Khalil might not be right after all. Next to me sat a small boy who asked me who these people on the stage were. I explained what they did, making it quite clear that they had nothing to do with the films he sees in the cinema. "So they don't do movies and work with stars?" "No," I replied, expecting him to get up and leave. But he didn't. He stayed on till the very end.

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