Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 9 -15 November 2000 Issue No.507
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875

	Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Books Travel Living Sports Profile People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters

Princes and knights

By Tarek Atia

At first I am a bit confused. The invitation says "smocking/evening dress" is required. But I don't have an ironed smock ready... Oh they mean, smoking.. Yanni, tuxedo. Maalish, I wear a suit.

In the Opera House lobby before the ceremony begins, the paparazzi are going nuts, snapping wildly as the stars arrive. Dozens of interviews with Egyptian and Arab TV stations are taking place at the same time. But all this glamorous milling about, no matter how pleasant, eventually has to end.

We make our way to our seats, and soon enough, the ceremony begins. The curtain parts, revealing a stage-set made to look like an elegant Louis XIV salon, with a staircase leading up to a big screen. With no preludes at all, vintage black-and-white footage of Al-Aqsa mosque is shown to the accompaniment of Abdel-Halim Hafez's song, Al-Masih (Christ). The scenes shift to the modern day, to shots of Israeli brutality, leading up to the killing of Mohamed El-Dorra. The effect is stark, emotional, as Abdel-Halim sings of Palestine as the home of Christ and the Bible. And it's all subtitled in English, so that the Western press and guests understand.

The message is clear. This is the opening of the Cairo International Film Festival, and because Italian superstar Sophia Loren is the guest of honour, it's likely that at least some of the Western world will be watching. Critics and industry big-wigs have been begging the organisers, ever since the Intifada began, to take a stand.

According to actor Nour El-Sherif, with whom I speak during the intermission, "a lot of people called for the festival to be cancelled altogether," because of the turbulence in the region, but that would have hurt the festival's reputation in the long run.

"So we have to be realistic," Sherif explains. "The song was appropriate. It was important to mention the Christian martyrs. It was a very smart message directed to the West, that it's not a religious war [between Muslims and Jews], as the West is trying to portray it."

Clockwise from top: Sophia Loren, Culture Minister Farouk Hosni and Hussein Fahmi; Fahmi and Hosni present Lubna Abdel-Aziz with her award; Ahmed Mazhar and Mariam Fakhr El-Din; Atef Salem

In general, there is a far more solemn air to the opening ceremony than in years past. For the most part, it is devoid of the embarrassing fun-and-games aura of yore. Last year's opening was particularly cringe-inducing, with its jokes about festival head Hussein Fahmi being the Alain Delon of the Arab world.

Fahmi appears quite serious as he tells the audience that the festival is not alienated from the troubled times in which it is being held. He boasts of the festival's importance, being one of the top 11 in the world. "When you consider that there are over 3,500 film festivals, you'll appreciate this fact."

He quickly goes on to describe the jury, each member of which "could have been its head." But in fact, it's prominent British director and producer Roland Joffee (The Killing Fields, The Mission) who heads the jury this year. Joffee tells the Weekly that the multi-media display on Palestine was appropriate because it was clearly born of feeling, which is normal for art. "Politics is pragmatic," he explains, while "art fights for understanding. It must be honest about what people feel."

Actor Ezzat Abu Ouf, who is playing the master of ceremonies, is certainly honest as he introduced each jury member to the stage. Abu Ouf's deep voice gets even deeper and louder with national pride as he calls up the two Egyptian members of the jury, veteran actress Lubna Abdel-Aziz and director Sherif Arafa.

The jury also consists of Italian director Alessandro D'Alatri, Chinese director Song Jiangbo, and Algerian director Ahmed Rachedi. Just as Abu Ouf says "Peter Bacso the Hungarian director couldn't make it to the opening ceremony," Bacso suddenly appears on stage.

"Oh, he's here!" Abu Ouf exclaims in surprise, and the audience gets a much needed laugh.

Those who really didn't make it were Newsweek critic David Ansen, and Russian actress Natalia Belakhvosfikova, but those cancellations had been previously announced in the press.

But the biggest no-show was certainly Iranian director Abbas Kiorastami. No mention was made of him at the opening, and there was a marked disappointment, in the audience, when the names were all called and he was not one of them.

Next on the agenda were a few heavy-handed words about Romance, the theme of the festival. Clichés about romance like "an eminent principality in the world of art" are used. Nonetheless, the multi-media presentation accompanying the honours bestowed on Egyptian cinema's romantic "princesses and knights" were quite nice.

The clips from some of the honoree's classic romantic scenes were well-chosen, and two by two they appear on stage. Naglaa Fathi and Mahmoud Yassin, Nour El-Sherif and Mervat Amin, and Ahmed Mazhar and Mariam Fakhr El-Din. These last two, giants of the Egyptian screen, get a huge, well-deserved standing ovation.

Actresses Madiha Youssry and Lubna Abdel-Aziz also get awards for their contributions to the genre, as does veteran director Atef Salem, who was brought out in a wheelchair to accept his award. Clearly touched, he gives a short speech describing how "such recognition makes an ill man feel so much better."

The only problem with this rather touching meeting of the generations is that Abu Ouf never mentions the stars' names. It's taken for granted that the Egyptian and Arab audience know them by heart, but still, does everyone?

Abu Ouf can't resist sprinkling a few more flowery words about "learning all about passion" from all of these folks. And through it all he breathes heavily, which makes the audience laugh, which, in turn, makes him laugh. It's all quaint and funny actually, and later, when I ask him about it, he says that he was really terrified. "It's the first time I do something like this," he says.

Then it's Sophia's turn. "Dear Sophia," says Abu Ouf. She strides out wearing an extremely low-cut V-neck dress with an extremely-high-cut slit.

"This is the one of the most wonderful receptions I've had in my career," she says, actually sounding rather disinterested. But this is why she's here, for just this one brief moment, just to wave hello, and pick up her prize.

During the short break before the opening film, the opera house's "no-smoking" sections are roundly ignored by this Hollywood-by-the-Nile heavy-smoking crew. The crowds' fashion sense is surprising decent, for the most part. Some of the men are wearing tuxedos, abiding by Fahmi's much-maligned call to add a little glamour to the proceedings. Walid Aouni's colorful pants, and Lebanese supermodel Rola Saad's new purple hair, stand out.

The affair is a real meeting of the generations, with the audience peppered with everyone from veteran actor Gamil Ratib to newcomers like Mohamed Nagati.

Actor Youssef Shaaban is pleased that the ceremony honoured several generations of Egyptian stars. "It was a beautiful thing, representing the loyalty we show to those who paved the way for all of us."

Most of the stars and quite a bit of the overall audience slipped out after the ceremony, not bothering to catch the opening film, Lars von Trier's Dancer in the Dark. Unless they'd seen it before at Cannes, where it won this year's Palme D'Or, this was certainly their loss. For what was this but a true work of art: a documentary, a news-reel, a musical... the movie is unclassifiable except as brilliant. Those of us who stayed were treated to two hours of gripping, grueling, masterful cinema. We left the hall stunned, unable to speak.

---

Related stories:
A different dynamic
Romantic interlude 2 - 8 November 2000
Festive tango 26 November-2 December 1998
See Cairo Film Festival Programme

 

© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved