Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 23 - 29 November 2000 Issue No.509
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875

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

'This is repression'

By Mohamed El-Assyouti

Nasrallah on location while filming Al-Madina photo: Randa Shaath

"The political awareness in a film's general mood is the element which reveals how this particular artist, living in this specific place, in that very moment in time, is neither oblivious of, nor ignoring, the conditions of existence there and then. Politics in its broader sense, an approach to the world, a general outlook, and not merely which party wins which elections.

"While there is a political background for each of my films and an analysis of how the individual is perceived socially in Egypt, my chief concern is always how individual's problems are defined within these conditions. It is a fact that our patriarchal society relies on the eradication and devaluation of the individual. But the individual, and difference, are very, very precious. But revealing the ideology, the social and political context within which an art work is created is the critic's role, not the artist's.

"All my films have a historical-political background to them: Sariqat Sayfiya (Summer Thefts) covers the 1961 Socialist Reform Agricultural laws of the Nasserist regime, up until to the Lebanese civil war. Mercedes's backdrop is the fall of socialism. On Boys, Girls and the Veil: is partially about the veil and fundamentalism. The background of Al-Madina (The City) is the removal of Rod Al-Farag Market.

"Because I happened to make these films at moments when these issues were pertinent, there was no escape from tackling them in one way or the other. It is very difficult to tell a story of two people meeting, because immediately one asks: Who is this boy? Who is his father and mother? Inevitably, he becomes a reflection of larger institutions: family, religion, politics... etc. I try to tell stories where I banalise all these institutions, put them in perspective, in the background. One of the difficult things in Al-Madina was to downplay the impact of the big event -- of the destruction of the market place -- on the protagonist: I felt that in this story, maybe not in real life, what happens to Ali is of more relevance than what will happen to his father. There is something cultural in Egypt that insists on the opposite; always the individual is diminished with respect to big events. This is repression. There is always a reason which they invent to tell you you're insignificant, there are so many things that are much more important than your petty little destiny. What's your falling in love or not, achieving an orgasm or not, being able to cope with your career or not, compared to such things You're always subjected to this kind of blackmail, first as a human being, then as an individual, and finally as an artist. The politics in my films react to this.

"All my protagonists are rebels. But in repressive societies simply saying no to your father becomes a political act, not merely an Oedipal response; here the political dimension of Oedipus becomes emphasised due to the setting. What I'm more interested in is the human implications of what it means to rebel. Losing friends and family may free or destroy you. I find it very natural, basic and normal to rebel and disobey. Rebellion is such a basic human behaviour that I even stop thinking of it as politics. What I try to do in my films -- which is interpreted politically -- is to try to depoliticise disobedience. Saying no, and defining yourself through difference, these are the most natural things to do, yet we live in a society where disobedience and difference are made to be counter productive, with so many laws and traditions claiming that this very natural, basic human need is almost sinful and implying that by only stating its naturalness you have already committed a political act.

But can the battle against difference, self-definition and disobedience ever be won? Of course not, it's against nature. Maybe this is what I tried to express in the film about the veil, which was not about the veil in itself. I can't care less what people wear, but can you prevent boys and girls from coming together, from wanting to fall in love, from falling in love? You can prevent them from saying it, but not from feeling. Can you prevent someone from wanting to be attractive, seductive, beautiful? You can prevent them from showing it directly, but you can't prevent them from subverting it, making it happen without your noticing. That's why my films are more about nature than about politics, which may in itself be very political.

"Sadly, the strongest message here is that you are bad, unworthy, without value, and dependent: in short, you do not exist except through me. Which means one thing: cultural obliteration. Why was Egyptian cinema at one point the nation's second biggest industrial money spinner? Because culture once upon a time made money. And what is culture about? It is about valorising your experience, your personal life, your individuality. It is about creating a harmony between how you live and how you think. But when everything in the system is telling you to live the way you want but don't talk about it, how can art survive?

"Culture then becomes worthless. If you make a film that addresses serious issues, talks about real people, explores a different form, you're told you are giving people a headache. Art and culture stop being serious because they bring no money and hence stop being taken seriously.

"In Al-Madina, with cinematographer Samir Bahzan, art director Salah Marei and costume designer Nahed Nasrallah, we modelled the colour codes on paintings by Francis Bacon. The need to give this hyper-realistic, high-contrast colour scheme was necessitated by shooting on digital video, a medium that flattens the picture. Video has a bi-dimensional picture that limits the possibility of creating the illusion of three-dimensionality obtained with regular 35mm film stock. The most obvious solution is to put oneself in the situation of a painter. We dealt with video like a canvas, having fun by putting in a lot of colours, creating perspective and visual style.

"The sound of the film emerged with the initial conceptualisation. When Ali has his accident and wakes up in the hospital, Al-Madina becomes more subjectively interiorised. The image concepts were derived from sound. I remember waking up in a hospital after being anaesthetised and the distant crying of a baby was the first thing I heard in this dream-like state. How is sound perceived in a dream? This was sound-determined mise-en--scene -- sound was there before the subject. I owe this narrative flow to my own post-anaesthesia auditory experience. Al-Madina is the first film where I dared to allow a concept of sound to be so determining.

"Al-Madina., of course, is a place, and it's about what you bring into that place. Who are you? A lot of people think that just because you're born in a place you've inherited a relationship to this place. I don't think so. The relationship between people and places, like that between people among themselves, is something that needs constant reinvention, nourishment, renewal.

"Many people -- especially those who have not seen the film -- think that it's about someone who goes to France then returns, discovering himself in the process. It is not about self-discovery. Ali knows who he is from the very first image of the film, but he is afraid of stating it, of using it, putting it forward. One of his first lines is 'I want to please everyone.'

"Unfortunately, this is the problem with the way we're brought up; and as Ali learns if he doesn't please himself first then he'll die. He doesn't want to die. His attitude is this is what I like, that is what I don't, if you take these seriously then I'll accept you -- relatives, friends, father and mother-- but if you don't, then I don't want you because you will basically be killing me'. It's a very rude film, thank heaven.

© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved

	weeklyweb@ahram.org.eg