In progress: Suspended animation
By Mohamed El-Assyouti
Saad Hendawi, a graduate of the Higher Cinema Institute, has made several short films and documentaries. His debut feature, though, like that of most of his peers, has been put off repeatedly -- lack of funding, distribution monopolies and the absence of any production company with a long-term plan being the culprits.
The camera rushes through the hospital corridors, into the intensive care unit, where doctors and nurses surround a patient and struggle to save his life. Cut to a child playing in Al-Helwat village, Sharqiya governorate, in a flashback showing the early days of the life of the dying patient. This begins a chronological narrative of the biography of the patient, told through the commentary of 40 interviewees. The commentary is intercut with the reactions of the doctors during their futile efforts and the close-ups of the hands of a sculptor carving a statue. Gradually, the artist refines his depiction of the patient and the interviewees' narratives give a form to his memory; only then does he flat-line in the hospital. This patient is Egyptian legendary singer Abdel-Halim Hafez, the subject of my pending 52-minutes documentary Al-Andalib (The Lark).
This interweaving of multiple temporal lines provides an interesting structure within which to locate the interviews, which will involve such crucial figures in the life of Halim as Abdel-Rahman El-Abnoudi, Kamal El-Tawil, Amar El-Sheri'i and Omar Sharif.
After a period of research made by a journalist collaborator of mine, I wrote the script and currently MBC is planning its production. I read everything that has been written on Halim, watched all his films and listened repeatedly to his songs over the past three months. Right now he lives with me. The challenge was to escape from the direct reportage approach to TV-documentary so prevalent these days.
My graduation project, Ziyara fil Kharif (A Visit in Autumn, 1994) -- a personal film about two widows of the same husband receiving their children in their common house -- won three awards locally and internationally and was later sold to Canal+. My next favourite film, Yom Al- Ahad Al-'Aadi (The Ordinary Sunday), won five awards -- from Cartage Festival in Tunisia, the Audience Award from the Institut Du Monde Arabe in Paris, Qlibiya Festival in Tunisia again, the National Film Festival in Egypt, and the Cultural Palaces Award. Later on I made Al- Mashhad Al-Akhir (The Last Scene) -- about the relationship between a famous actress and her assistant -- and the docudrama Al-Damah -- about this music and dance from Port-Said.
I signed the contract for making my first feature-length film, Alwan Al- Sama Al-Sab'aa (Sky's Seven Colours), written by Zeinab Aziz, with Shoaa Production company in 1998. Zeinab and I followed its development line by line. It is about a love relationship between an ex-prostitute and a tanoura (whirling dervish) dancer. Many obstacles came in the way of the production and there were disagreements over the actors fees. Then came the wave of "silly" films dominating local cinema and there was no way a melodrama would receive backing.
The script for my next project, Rabi' El-Qatr aw Al-Hayah Hilwah (Rabi' El-Qatr or Life is Beautiful), Yasser Farahat's graduation project. It revolved around the friendship of two young men, expert in making keys and opening locked doors -- a gift that gets them in serious trouble. I suggested some changes to Farahat and we made them, then [producer] Hussein El-Qala suggested we present it to [director] Magdi Ahmed Ali, who had just established his own production company. Through Ali's company we applied to the Arab Company for Film Production. El-Qala, now in charge of the Arab Company's projects department, rejected the project without giving any reason for changing his mind.
I then thought of making a new adaptation of Ihsan Abdel-Quddous's novel Al-Nazara Al-Sawdaa (The Black Sunglasses) -- [adapted in the 1960s, directed by Hossameddin Mustafa]. Tamer Habib wrote it, we titled it Ashiq wa Ma'shuq (Lover and Beloved) and Nahed Farid Shawqi was going to produce it. Later on she lost interest and [director/producer] Karim Gamaleddin took over the project for a year, and they were actually considering giving it to another director -- even though it was my idea and I was involved in its writing -- but then no one ever made it.
After that I signed a contract with [producer/distributor] Mohamed Hassan Ramzi to direct Abdel-Fatah El-Beltagui's Basket, but the production has not been scheduled yet. It is about an elderly basketball coach, who gathers an all-girls team from the streets, and begins to train them. Later, dying, he assigns his team to his nephew (to be played by Mohamed Mounir) who, after stupendous efforts, succeeds in winning victories with the team.
I also signed a contract to direct Andalib Fil Saharawi (Lark on the Desert Road), co-written by El-Beltagui and Tamer Abdel- Moneim and produced by Aiman El-Arab and Amr Nasr. But due to lack of funding this project, too, came to a halt. It depicts a young man who loves music. His father, though, insists he become a dentist. He gets involved in kidnapping the daughter of a business tycoon and after a long chase they fall in love.
My last aborted attempt at making a debut feature film consumed seven months. I wrote the script for Cairo Atina Cairo with Mahmoud Ibrahim. About 60 per cent of the scenes were to be shot in Greece. After many visits to Athens and signing contracts with production companies there and contracting Hani Salama, Amr Waked, Fathi Abdel-Wahab, Menha El-Batrawi and El-Shahat Mabrouk to play the main roles, the project again came to a halt due to financial difficulties. The story involves a group of friends who leave Alexandria for Athens in search of adventure and better careers.
Currently, I am to direct a short film, written by Zeinab Aziz, and produced by the National Cinema Centre, titled Asfour Al-Gannah (The Nightingale).
Meanwhile, I am working on a master's thesis under the supervision of Dr Yehia Azmi on melodrama in the films of Hassan El-Imam. I never take heed of those who criticise the melodramatic elements in my films. It is a mood I like to evoke.
