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

photo: Sherif Sonbol

Hussein Fahmi:

Blue-eyed boy

Peter Pan with a portfolio? The wunderkind is happy to have grown up

Profile by Khaireya Khairy

Film star Hussein Fahmi is never at home when he is at home. He is more comfortable in a studio, on set, facing a camera. And more so still in his office on Qasr Al-Nil Street where, as president of the Cairo International Film Festival, he is orchestrating the event that begins this week. This is where my chase of Hussein Fahmi ended, after a dozen cell phone calls tracing him back and forth: first to Paris, then back to Egypt, from one exclusive sea-side resort to another. When we finally met in his sumptuous office, he walked in looking fit as a marathon runner. He was red in the face, though, obviously from basking in the sun.
Fahmi's mobility extends to his career. Since he made his name in his first film 30 years ago, he has shuttled between cinema, theatre and television. To be precise, he has to his name 200 films, six plays and 20 TV series. He has been the star of every one of these packages. On the home front, he has behind him two divorces, three grown-up children, and two grandchildren who are not allowed to call him 'Grandpa' but call him by name instead.
Fahmi's good looks made him an instant film star. He was young, debonair and handsome, with fair hair, fair skin and blue eyes -- features related to his Circassian forefathers. He filled the void left when Omar Sharif crossed over, out of Egypt, to the international world of film stardom. He worked on one film with the tall, dark and handsome Rushdi Abaza, who passed away in his prime. Thereafter, he was the quintessential "jeune premier" of Egyptian cinema.
Fahmi's father, a parliamentarian from a long line of parliamentarians, had envisaged a conventional career for his son. Having won a Fulbright scholarship, Fahmi compromised. He set off for California to study film directing at UCLA. He finished four years of academic studies and extended his stay for a two-year apprenticeship. Years later, his younger brother Mustafa would also disappoint his parents by turning from photography to acting.
Back in Cairo, Fahmi succeeded in getting a job as assistant director but was soon plucked from behind the camera and set firmly in front of it. Around this time, he played the incredibly debonair and handsome, if slightly austere, university professor opposite the delicious Soad Hosni in Khalli Balak min Zouzou (Watch Out for Zouzou). However improbably the casting choice, Fahmi's strong jaw, piercing gaze and silky hair can still make any Zouzou wannabe melt today.
Fahmi tells me that he resented being cast in romantic parts, but acquiesced at the start of his career. It was a way to get his foot in the door -- a good way, judging from the results. Soon, he had escaped the typecasting inferno to play a wide variety of characters, stretching his acting skill to the full. In Al-Shayatin (The Renegades), he was the leader of an underground organisation that exposed the state's corruption and sought to overthrow the establishment. He was one of the inimical brothers in Al-Ikhwa Al-'Adaa (loosely based on The Brothers Karamazov). In Da'ouni Antaqim (Let Vengeance Be Mine) he was a father who sought revenge for his son's murder. Fahmi's favourite role, however, is the part he played in Al-Russassa La Tazal fi Gaybi (The Bullet Is Still in My Pocket), about the October War. He was in the lead, with the soldiers who crossed the Suez Canal. The scene was shot in circumstances as similar as possible to those of the real Crossing.
In general, however, Fahmi is spontaneously associated with the romantic roles that revealed his "stylish and attractive" side, to quote one female fan. In one of these films, Hafya 'ala Gisr min Al-Dahab (Barefoot on a Golden Pontoon) Fahmi was in love with the character played by Mervat Amin. He then proceeded to fall in love with Amin herself. The two married. Seven years later, it ended in his second divorce.

Faces of Fahmi (from top): the unforgettable party scene from Khalli Balak min Zouzou, in which Soad Hosni as the spirited Zouzou sacrifices her reputation to save her mother (Tahia Carioca, seated) from humiliation; Nar Al-Shawq (The Fire of Passion); Al-Ikhwa Al-'Adaa; with Mervat Amin in Hafya 'ala Gisr min Al-Dahab; Al-Haditha (The Accident, a play)

Fahmi's screen image enhanced his popularity. His winning personality, geniality, cosmopolitan culture and multilingualism are other attributes that have led him to fields beyond acting. He is a UN good-will ambassador, and president of the International Film Festival. The diligence that made him a superstar has also made him a super UN envoy, and the festival's competent and well-connected organiser.
Fahmi tells me that his candidacy for the presidency of the festival came as a surprise. Minister of Culture Farouk Hosni was the one who suggested his candidacy, although for two years preceding his appointment the two had not spoken, following a dispute over a controversial subject.
Bygones were bygones, however, and Fahmi took his charge to heart. He set about working to make the 23rd Cairo International Film Festival a resounding success, and delivered in style despite a wave of criticism: he imposed a formal dress code for the guests at the opening ceremony, he had paid too much for the international stars attending (Alan Delon, Catherine Deneuve and Peter O'Toole)... The success of the festival silenced these mumblings of discontent. One critic admitted: "Fahmi was able to ride the wave." At present, he is focused on organising the 24th festival, which started this week.
Fahmi revealed an array of plans to upgrade the next festival. What really needs upgrading is his office. However pompous it looks, it has an air of antiquated dignity. A slab of the finest wood tops his desk. It is faced by a comfortable settee and two armchairs upholstered in well-worn leather. Posters of past festivals and colour blow-ups of late directors line the wall. Rather a dreary ambiance, but Fahmi does not mind. He says: "I would rather spend money on vamping up the festival."
Where does the money come from? "Other than the government subsidy, it is backed by companies and businessmen." This is where Fahmi's winning personality comes in handy: fundraising. He is currently deploying all his organisational skills to produce a festival worthy of the new millennium. He maintains that the credibility of a festival is a prerequisite for its success. And this is based on discipline.
Fahmi is not the kind of man to put up with bungling. Nor is he one to reap alone the benefits of success. He delegates the responsibility of organising various aspects of the event to a group of young filmmakers. Hopefully a faux pas like last year's will be avoided. On his own initiative, Fahmi had included an Iranian film, at a time when Egypt had severed diplomatic relations with Iran. Even that was not a disaster, however: he reported the fact to Foreign Minister Amr Moussa, who readily approved.
Fahmi is equally excited about his diplomatic mission as UN good-will ambassador. Edmond Cain, United Nations Development Programme resident representative in Egypt, explains: "United Nations humanitarian programmes get public attention when undertaken by public figures." Fahmi recalls that the letter he received from UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan appointed him to this position for the fee of $1. When they were last year in New York, Fahmi told the secretary-general he had understood it to mean $1 million. He was joking.
Edmond Cain says: "When I walked into UN headquarters with Fahmi, he looked just as much a star as he is in Egypt." In New York, Mr and Mrs Annan invited him to breakfast. He attended meetings of the Egyptian delegation to the UN. The Egyptian Club there asked him to give a talk, which was followed by myriad questions about the state of the cinema industry in Egypt.
"As regional director, I am in charge of the Middle East," he says, and adds with the fervour of a missionary: "In Egypt, we have had wonderful results removing land mines from the Western Desert. A million mines have already been removed, but 15 million remain. The United Nations gave us a favourable report," he declares with pride. He also visited the UN project at Zaqaziq, where, he says, "1,200 young peasants are being taught to use computers."
Other UN projects across the region arouse his enthusiasm too. In Jordan, children cleared a dumping site and planted trees in its place. Each tree bears a child's name. In Abu Dhabi, he visited handicapped children who were taught farming, and became independent wage earners.
Yet other activities reveal different aspects of this multiple personality. Alongside the philanthropist, for instance, there is the Hussein Fahmi who sees nothing wrong with endorsing certain goods. Why does he need to?
"It's not just any advertisement. I would have to have a vested interest. I advertise a certain car because I have invested in the agency that sells it." He is not really a businessman, however, he says; just an investor. That is not a businessman in the true sense of the word. He is neither a fat cat nor a shark. "When I was in the States, I discovered that it is common for an actor to have business activities on the side. It provides security." Fahmi has also lent his name to a restaurant that offers catering services as well. After all, he is simply following the example set by the likes of Sylvester Stallone or Paul Newman.
Not that he is spreading himself thin, as one could have thought. He is organised and disciplined. At 60, he maintains a lifestyle that keeps him fit. He has no qualms about ageing: "At times I get up in the morning and feel 18. Still, I adjust to my age. I used to play squash, now I play tennis or golf. I manage to keep my weight down."
Fahmi seems to adhere to Clint Eastwood's motto, as described by Time Magazine: he "works hard and plays hard to extend his adolescence... and stay tan, teen, and terrific."
And heads do turn when Fahmi walks in. Most of the guests at a reception recently held by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in honour of Egypt's three good-will ambassadors (Fahmi, Safiya El-Emari and Adel Imam) were women. "That," said El-Emari to humour him, "is because Hussein Fahmi is here." A starlet rushed up with a photographer at her heels and asked for a photo op. Ever gallant, he obliged.
Fahmi looks younger than his age, despite his hair; once blond, it is now salt-and-pepper. His youthfulness has not always been an advantage. Faten Hamama, the grande dame of Egyptian cinema, objected to a choice to cast him as her husband in a TV series, protesting that he looked too young to be credible in the role.
In conclusion, I threw a gauntlet at him. I said: "You have a reputation of being a womaniser. How true is it?" Fahmi burst out laughing and said: "I am. I do not mind this reputation." He added: "I think women like it. Not my wives, though. Understandably, they have been a little intolerant."

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