PART ONE: INTRODUCTION

Our first discussion lasted over 2 hours and covered just about every topic imaginable. We started by watching a short clip from a film by Jocelyn Saab titled Once Upon a Time: Beirut, (pictured above) a sort of homage to Arab filmmaking and the director’s affections for Beirut. In the clip, two young girls have just arrived at the house of a reclusive and eccentric film connisuer, Mr. Farouk. They hope to hear his stories of Beirut and see his old films which he keeps in a dilapidated movie theatre for his own use. To gain access to him, they bring rare film reels which they believe he will be interested in. He grants them access, and so begins a fragmented collage of musings, film clips, and short scenes in the old theater – all devoted to film fancy.

The first images of the film brought by the girls is archival black and white footage of Beirut. Inserting themselves in the film, they (now characters in their own movie within a movie) speak to Mr. Farouk as an audience member, lamenting the fact that in their search for their city’s past, all they found were an unending series of “clichés” that were “out of date,” according to their 20 year old taste. They reveal their true purpose for seeking out Mr. Farouk – they are looking for a sense of identity. “We heard you were the living memory of Beirut,” they tell Mr. Farouk. It turns out, Mr. Farouk was only the operator of cinemas for several years. And, when asked how he chose the films to show, he said he picked the ones whose posters he liked the best. In other words, all the films they could find were either outmoded or tired, and the only man who they think can help them is someone who knows nothing of history, only movies whose posters he likes. This is a perfect metaphor for all young filmmakers in the region. They are surrounded by clichés and out-dated images of themselves. As they begin to make what will be the next generation of films, they will have to turn back and see what came before them, as well as look into many possible futures for the kind of filmmaker they want to become.

Another interesting subtext in the scene is the relationship between memory and image. There is always a gap between the remembered and the fixed image of the remembered (that which we hold in our hand in the present). The image is never the whole memory. It is inherently innacurate. Yet, ironically, the past and the present are inseparable. How can an Arab or Iranian or Jew make sense of his present without referring to past conflicts? To lineage, to cultural heritage, to religious history? Or, conversely, how does a culture track its progress in the midst of deeper and deeper appropriation of foreign culture, globalization, importation of images and ideas? When do we remember, and for what purpose? How do we use memory to build our image? The image of a nation?

The contradictions and ironies only deepen when applied to a personal level. This is what makes our class so interesting. Each filmmaker must ask the above questions of him/herself, and then act on them through an artistic medium. Each one must determine where he/she comes from, what it means to be where they are, and what kind of images they want to produce and to what end their efforts are aimed. It’s all too perfect that the characters in Once Upon a Time: Beirut perform this search within the dark seclusion of a tattered movie theater. (even further down this path of film’s relationship to history and memory, Once Upon a Time… opens with a quote from Alain Resnais‘ moving art house classic: Hiroshima Mon Amour)

PART TWO: “IT’S ALL TALK”

Below will be a summary of claims or topics opened up by students during our discussion. My comments will appear in Italics. Each one is a hotbed of commentary, which is encouraged – just click “Add comment” below and reference the issue/topic you would like to comment on by copy/paste-ing the text at the head of your comment.

1. Different Categories of MENA Cinema – there are basically two “camps” into which all MENA film can be divided: the “commercial” and the “independent.” The first is principally a product of Cairo’s studio system, the oldest, most prolific, and most powerful in the region. It has a virtual monopoly on distribution and advertising for its films, rivaled in the area only by Hollywood. Its film, according to one student “make the audience look stupid,” due to their generally thin plots and ridiculous premises. The acting is considered bad, as is the production value. The popularity of these films, however, cannot be denied. Most of the students said that their immediate family members have continuously enjoyed these films and sought them out despite their predictable nature.

The second camp, the “independent” cinema, is a more “artistic” and serious than the “commerical” films. It is thought of as being of higher quality, producing more interesting stories and subject matter, and having higher production value. These are often made with low budgets. Ironically, though there are many of these films, very few are seen by MENA audiences (more on this later).

See our discussion on AUDIENCE below. This is a big issue for young filmmakers – how to compete with economic giants who have the distribution chains and advertising capital to saturate the market.

2. Representation – Within the “independent” category, there is a rift between what the students see as “outsider” representation of their culture by filmmakers that claim a cultural heritage, but do not actually live here. An immediate example is Jocelyn Saab, whose films “talk about Arabs but aren’t made for Arabs,” says one student. According to this student, these films discuss everyday Arab life without really knowing it. Saab is a Maghreb Arab who speaks French and works in France as a filmmaker. There is a question of cultural authenticity. The students, however, agree that they do not denounce these films nor discount their aesthetic value. Rather, they do not connect with the stories being told nor the nature by which they are told. “It isn’t familiar,” said one student. “It’s not what we actually see.” Instead, the name Yousry Nasrallah was offered up as a filmmaker (Egyptian) that spoke with an authentic voice about the culture of the region.

We also discussed that the idea of a “unified” MENA cinema was as ridiculous as calling the region a unified whole. The differences from village to village are endless, let alone nation to nation or continent to continent. So what is the real issue here? Nationality, or representation of a broader culture? How can a Jordanian tell if a Tunisian or Egyptian is being authentic if he/she has never been to Tunisia or Egypt? What do these nations/cultures have in common? What is the definition of “authentic” in a region that is complicated in its own identity of itself?

3. Problems in Writing – A sentiment that seemed to get support from the group was that films from this region shared an overall weakness in story. The stories are either told too slow, too abstractly, or without enough depth to provide an engaging experience. Many of the students admitted to not liking MENA film, and having not seen much of it because of previous bad viewing experiences.

Is this a cultural issue of storytelling? Training? Are young filmmakers more likely to demand a Westernized story structure and/or pace? Is this an effect of globalization or simply an objective assessment of aesthetics?

4. Limits Force Creativity- a student from Tehran believes censorship – although oppressive – to be a crucial factor in the quality of Iranian cinema. The limits of what can be said in a film forces filmmakers to come up with creative solutions that allow them to communicate their ideas and also fly “under the radar.”

5. Access to Alternatives – a large part of our discussion rested on the issue of changing audience viewing tastes. If “commercial” cinema is not good enough, but it’s what the audience wants – how do the next generation of young filmmakers gain an audience? One student brought up an excellent point – audiences are never steadfast by decree (“I will never love anything but cheap Egyptian comedies!!”), rather they can be swayed if given something worth swaying for. The question is how to engage mass audiences whose taste does not allow for more “difficult” films? At the core of the problem is the availability of alternatives. Currently, there is little access to alternatives. Will making other types of films available on a mass market level change viewing habits? Or is it a matter of engaging the audience at their own level? If you put an “art film” on a pan-MENA cable channel, who will watch it? Will they want more? Most students say “probably not.” But one thing is clear – if the next wave of filmmakers want to continue to make films – someone will have to pay to watch them. One film discussed was Caramel, by Lebanese filmmaker Nadine Labaki. This film brought in a broader audience than most independent films, perhaps due to its casual and fun setting – a hair salon. The characters reflected real characters, and progressive ones at that. The tone was light and accessible, and the film was a hit at home and abroad.

Which brings us to the next point…

6. Who Are You Making These Films For?! – In last year’s class we showed two films from Palestine made by Palestinian filmmakers. The majority of the students identify themselves as Palestinian, coming from families whose roots are in Palestine. The first film was Michel Khleifi’s Wedding in Galilee, winner of 6 international awards including the FIPRESCI award at Cannes. The film was unanimously disliked. The whole thing was a façade in the eyes of the students. They saw straight through the phony dubbed accents (in some cases 5 different voice actors for 1 character, each with a different inflection), and they were offended by the idealized peasant model offered up by Khleifi as symbolic of the Palestinian national struggle. The second was Elia Suleiman’s Chronicle of a Disappearance, an obscure non-linear experimental feature that takes place in Jerusalem and Nazareth. There is no real plot and is very non-apologetically defies concise interpretation. The students loved it. The simple comedy of “slice of life” moments were true to their experience. The way Palestine was filmed felt familiar. The people were familiar, and the accents were right.

How to explain this discrepancy? Easy. If you’re making a film for a slap on the back from a jury panel – they’ll smell you a mile away. Making films about the region for Occidental audiences is a severe offense in the eyes of young MENA filmmakers. It’s fine to attract foreign audiences, but you have to engage your own people in a way that is authentic. “Talk about what you know, not what you think other people want to hear,” is the message from young filmmakers. An example of a film that was able to do this successfully, according to one student, was The Message by Moustapha Akkad (1976).

As an American, I don’t feel like I can comment with any real authority on this subject, but I do find it endlessly interesting and important. How filmmakers view authenticity – for themselves and as a collective – determines the kind of films they will make. Watching more and more of these films is vital to helping a student filmmaker find his/her voice. Making more of these films available is the first step.

6. Putting Blame Where It Belongs, at Home – “We copy badly,” said one student. There is a general feeling shared among the filmmakers in the class that when films from the region attempt to copy what is successful elsewhere, it inevitably pales in comparison. Likewise, there is an implied sense of responsibility that is often waved aside. As one student put it: “If we buy a car made in the Middle East, we expect it to be crap. But if it’s German, we expect it to be perfect, state of the art. How can we demand quality from other people and not from ourselves?!”

7. Industry – There is little hope for a full-fledged industry, and with reason. Even in the US, the only real industry for filmmaking is in Los Angeles. Yet, every other major city is full of professionals producing commercial, industrial, and art films. Jordan, say the students, cannot hope for a full-fledged industry, but it can hope for full-time work in the field of filmmaking. Also, there are looming questions about the pending success of Abu-Dhabi and Dubai to attract large international productions to its recently or almost finished studio facilities. Jordan cannot compete with that – YET. Iran is closed off and inaccessible, even to many Iranians. Cairo only does what it does. Beirut has plenty of filmmakers, but no sustainable industry to keep everyone employed all the time. So where does that leave the rest of us?

CONCLUSION

These are all HUGE topics that will take a long time to tackle. Every filmmaker has to wrestle with these questions and eventually decide where to draw the line for his/her self. How you react to these larger problems ultimately defines what kind of artist you want to be and who your audience will be. As the semester progresses, we hope to be able to answer these questions on an individual basis while exchanging possible answers to all of these topics. We invite anyone to participate with us via this blog.

El pasado domingo Yusuf Shahin, el gigante egipcio del Séptimo Arte Árabe y Mundial, murió a la edad de 82 años en el Cairo. Yousri Nasrallah, su antiguo ayudante lo definió en una ocasión como “una de las más grandes organizaciones no gubernamentales independientes existente en el mundo árabe.” Se le considera como uno de los directores de cine más importantes y creativos. 

Nacido en 1926 en Alejandría de padre cristiano libanés y madre egipcia, a Shahin desde su más tierna infancia le fascinó el cine. A los 17 años Shahin abandonó Alejandría, donde completó sus estudios, y se fue a estudiar interpretación al Pasadena Playhouse en California. 

Shahin era conocido como poseedor de un  espíritu librepensador independiente, que no prestaba demasiada atención a las reglas autoritarias ni a los convencionalismos sociales. Su producción cinematográfica cubre una amplia gama de estilos tales como películas melodramáticas, musicales, comedias, neorrealistas y políticas. Una de sus contribuciones más importantes y singulares al cine fue su trilogía autobiográfica ¿Alejandría… Por qué? (Alexandria Why?), La Memoria ( The Memory) y Alejandría, de nuevo y siempre (Alexandria Again and Again). En esta trilogía, Shahin introdujo el uso de  la narrativa en primera persona. En sus últimas películas,  El Inmigrante (The Immigrant – 1994)  y El Otro (The Other – 1999), Shahin trató el tema del surgimiento del fundamentalismo islámico en la sociedad egipcia. 

En 1997, Shahin ganó la Palma de Oro del Festival de Cine de Cannes por su película Destino (Destiny.) 

Shahin es un pionero de la industria cinematográfica en Oriente Medio. A pesar de la fuerte oposición interna, la agitación política y la fuerte censura gubernamental, varios directores de cine en Oriente Medio han dejado su huella en el cine mundial. Irónicamente, los productores de cine más vibrantes y creativos se pueden encontrar actualmente en la República Islámica de Irán. A pesar de  la fuerte censura gubernamental, Irán ha dado origen a destacados directores de cine como: Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Abbas Kiarostami, Rakshan Bani-Etemad, y Jafr Panahi. En la actualidad, sus películas se ven y son apreciadas en todo el mundo. 

Lo mismo ocurre con la producción cinematográfica en otros países árabes tales como Líbano y Palestina. Una de las más famosas y recientes películas libanesas es la galardonada Caramel de Nadine Labaki, en la que ella narra con un estilo divertido y conmovedor la vida de cinco mujeres libanesas en un salón de belleza en Beirut. 

Los productores de cine palestinos también han alcanzado fama mundial. Entre sus películas están La Boda de Rana (Rana’s Wedding) de Hany Abu-Assad y Boda en Galilea (Wedding in Galilee) de Michel Khleifi. 

A pesar de la tensa atmósfera política en la región, todavía hay mentes creativas en acción. Esto es un signo de esperanza para Oriente Medio y para el mundo. Me imagino que en tiempos de oscuridad y opresión es cuando emergen nuevas ideas para dejar su marca y originar un entendimiento más profundo de la condición humana. Rossellini y Fellini en Italia, Renoir en Francia, Buñuel en España y Sergei Eisenstein en Rusia son solo unos pocos ejemplos.  

http://www.library.cornell.edu/colldev/mideast/chahine.htm  

DEATH OF A GIANT 

Last Sunday Yusuf Shahin the Egyptian giant of the Arab and World Seventh Art died at the age of 82 in Cairo. Yousri Nasrallah, his former assistant once defined him as “one of the biggest independent non governmental organizations existing in the Arab world.” He is considered as one of the most important and creative international film directors. 

Born in 1926 in Alexandria to a Christian Lebanese father and an Egyptian mother, Shahin was since his early childhood mesmerized by the cinema. At the age of 17, Shahin left Alexandria, where he completed his studies, and went to study acting at the Pasadena Playhouse in California. 

Shahin was known to be an independent free-thinking spirit who did not pay too much attention to authoritarian rulers and social conventions. His movie productions cover a wide range of styles such as melodramas, musicals, comedy, neorealist and political films. One of his most important and unique contribution to cinema was his autobiographical trilogy Alexandria Why? The Memory, and Alexandria Again and Again. In this trilogy, Shahin innovated the use of first-person narrative. In his latest films The Immigrant (1994), and The Other (1999) Shahin dealt with the issue of the rise of Islamic fundamentalism in Egyptian society. 

In 1997, Shahin won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival for his film Destiny. 

Shahin is a pioneer of the film industry in the Middle East. Despite strong internal opposition, political upheaval and strong government censorship several film directors in the Middle East have left their mark on world cinema.

The most vibrant and creative filmmakers can ironically be found today in the Islamic Republic of Iran. Despite strong government censorship, Iran has produced leading film directors such as Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Abbas Kiarostami, Rakshan Bani-Etemad, and Jafr Panahi. Their movies are now seen and appreciated worldwide. 

The same applies to film production in other Arab countries such as Lebanon and Palestine. One of the most famous and recent Lebanese film is Nadine Labaki’s award-winning movie Caramel,  in which she recounts in a funny and poignant style the lives of five Lebanese women in a beauty salon in Beirut. 

Palestinian film producers have also achieved worldwide fame. Their films include Hany Abu-Assad’s Rana’s Wedding and Michel Khleifi’s Wedding in Galilee. 

Despite the tense political atmosphere in the region creative minds are still at work. This is a hopeful sign for the Middle East and the world. I guess it is in times of darkness and oppression that new ideas emerge to leave their imprint and elicit a deeper understanding of the human condition. Italy’s Rossellini and Fellini, France’s Renoir, Spain’s Bunuel, Russia’s Sergei Eisenstein are only but few examples. 

http://www.library.cornell.edu/colldev/mideast/chahine.htm