Samy Oxide al-Carbon, a new film starring Egyptian comedian Hany Ramzy, reveals the problems of commercial cinema that persist post-25 January. Its simplistic plot suggests that nothing has changed in Egyptian society and hence the commercial film industry needs not change either.
The same tired storyline of a womanizer who changes after falling in love with a "good girl" reappears in Samy Oxide al-Carbon. The protagonist, Samy, falls in love with a beautiful woman with a revolutionary spirit (acted by Dorra). To impress her, Samy puts on a different persona and decides to join the protests.
As a womanizer, Samy offers nothing new and is a recycled character from Adel Imam in al-Sefara fi al-Emara (The Embassy in the Building), Ahmed Eid in Ana Mosh Maahom (I’m not with them) and Mahmoud Abdel Aziz’s film al-Banat Ayza Eih (What Girls Want). This shallow image of the womanizer has been repeatedly presented in Egyptian cinema since the '80s.
And for each trivial character, there is a more trivial supporting actor. In the case of Samy Oxide al-Carbon, we have Edward, whose role is disproportionately limited to routine dialogue and prosaic gags.
To ensure the film's appeal, director Akram Farid brings in actress Jenna, a little girl – a copycat of Anwar Wagdy’s Fayrouz from the '50s – who talks like a vulgar grown-up woman. The innocence and talent of Jenna in Samy Oxide al-Carbon are abused to present unfavorable behavioral traits for children of her age, who the film lures into movie theatres.
What is most shocking is that Farid reintroduces this image of children in Samy Oxide al-Carbon. Farid presented this model in his debut movie, Farah, and later in his unsuccessful foray with producer Mohamed al-Sobky, al-Hob Keda (This is Love). However, he had bypassed it in his latest film A’Iilat Mickey (Mickey’s Family), in which he successfully positioned Mickey as a funny, playful and naughty child rather than making him act like a grown up.
In his scenes with the child, Samy is forced by the script to become no more than a lazy supporting actor who repeats her catchphrases.
But, what provides the greatest insights into the approach of commercial cinema is the stereotypical way of presenting Dorra’s activist friends. Though the film is meant as a comedy, it remains difficult to accept the distorted, silly image of youth it presents, especially after the 25 January revolution. They are shown wearing thick eyeglasses and old suspenders and are either very obese or extremely thin in an attempt to induce humor through the remarkable contradictions. They passionately blurt out empty slogans, and their activism is reduced to a one-minute protest in solidarity with Samy, who is kidnapped by the stereotypical villain, Gaber. In the background of the protest, viewers see the torched headquarters of the National Democratic Party, a visual stultification of the youth’s stature by the director.
This representation of the revolutionary youth cannot be deemed as parody, but rather a grotesque comic depiction. The young revolutionaries appear so stupid that they easily fall for the naive lies Samy tells to join them and hence get closer to Dorra.
Dorra’s performance was also affected by the stupidity the script imposes and easily falls for Samy’s fake character.
As for the villain’s wantonly lustful secretary, played by Tatyana, she comes off as clumsy and as usual betrays her employer and leaks important documents after he dishonors a promise to marry her. In this film, Tatyana loses the little credit she had won with the audience.
This film’s producers maintain the same approach that preceded the revolution under the pretext that the audience seeks laughter to escape their problems. This, however, suggests the existence of a conspiracy to counter any serious film productions, as was the case before the revolution. Although society’s problems have changed, the way Egyptian cinema deals with them doesn’t seem like it has.
Translated from the Arabic Edition
