Dual censorship
By Salama A Salama
The kind of uproar that accompanied The Yacoubian Building, and before that The Da Vinci Code, is senseless and demeaning to the public. In both cases, certain people wanted to take culture hostage, restrict artistic expression, and prevent artists from expounding their social and political views. Those who have risen up in arms against both films -- parliamentarians, clerics, and public figures among others -- have appointed themselves guardians of morality and traditions, and quite needlessly. They have succeeded in banning The Da Vinci Code and are now trying to omit some scenes from The Yacoubian Building. What they're really telling us is that the public is bereft of reason and judgement; that the nation needs to be told what to watch and what to believe.
I have seen The Yacoubian Building in a movie theatre and was curious to see how the audience would react to the scenes some have denounced as contrary to religious and moral traditions. Four or five people walked out during the film, maybe because they didn't like the film or for any other reason. Those who stayed included whole families, people from many generations, and people from both sexes. They didn't seem shocked or horrified.
Our society is much more mature than some assume. We are mature enough to decide what we want to watch without having to be told. Egyptians don't need someone to tell them that a certain film has sexual or homosexual connotations that are better be left unsaid. They don't need someone to tell them that a film conflicts with religion and must be avoided at all costs. Egyptians have access to cable television and the Internet. They see thousands and millions of uncensored images and films, and they can handle it.
The campaign against The Yacoubian Building focussed on its portrayal of homosexuality, a practice that is frowned upon in this country. But those who lashed out at the movie made it sound as if the film was degenerate or pornographic, which it wasn't. The film brings together the talents of novelist Alaa Al-Aswani, scriptwriter Wahid Hamed, and an experienced cast of actors. Faithful to the novel, the film addresses a number of social abnormalities, homosexuality being just one. The film addresses political and economic corruption and deals with social and psychological pressures one sees often in this society.
Social hypocrisy, presented through the troubled childhood of a top journalist, is portrayed through a homosexual affair involving a police cadet. Another character is that of a politician who awards parliamentary seats to the highest bidders, while claiming to be well connected to the powers that be. A businessman who started his life shining shoes makes a fortune from drug dealing before moving on to politics. A small shop owner tries to seduce girls who work at his shop. A janitor's son cannot get admission to the police academy and subsequently becomes a religious fanatic. All these characters share a certain malaise, one common to periods of social change. In the lead role, we see the talented Adel Imam playing the son of a pasha, an aging misfit with a Paris education.
Homosexuality wasn't the main point of the movie, but one of the many aspects of social malaise that unfold as the story progresses. The film depicts homosexuality in a refined manner and the acting is simply superb. The film leaves one with the impression that reform is needed. The last thing we need in this country is someone to tell us what to watch and what to avoid. We can make up our own minds. We don't need a dual censorship to protect us from evil; for our films to be censored before they're made and again after they're finished.