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Cairo Station (1958) VHS AFD 023

(Spoiler alert)

The urban poor of post-colonial Egypt stand at the center of Joussef Chahine’s dark masterpiece, Cairo Station. The characters central to the story remain in focus for the entire film, while the hectic setting of Cairo’s main train station bustles around them. The constantly shifting, moving surroundings reflect the themes of movement, change and the mixing of cultures which appear in the film. Western clothing, dress, ideas are all presented in passing within the station and on its trains, themselves a product of British colonialism. Meanwhile, distinctly traditional social groups cluster within the structure and maintain closely knit communities. From Islamic religious figures to women’s rights groups, a wealth of different, conflicting characters and attitudes appear, usually in passing and often with unclear messages and relations to the western technologies surrounding them.

When addressing the issue of the portrayal of western culture within the film, there exists an ambivalence which is not easily resolved or understood. Clearly the western-style train station, as a harbor for the urban poor and as the primary means of transportation within Cairo, maintains the livelihood of many characters within the film. Yet it is the portrayals of women, and female sexuality in a typically western magazine-fashion that drives the main character, Qinawi, into obsession and eventual insanity. This could clearly be interpreted as a criticism of the western willingness to portray sexuality in order to turn profit, and the means by which sexuality, specifically western-style sexuality, can become dangerous, or lead to violent mental illness.

If western standards of sexuality are to be seen as dangerous for an Egyptian man, then the film’s social commentary rests on the negative impact of western influences, yet if we see Qinawi as simply an unstable character from the beginning, who was merely susceptible to any violent influences, the social commentary lightens. After Qinawi’s employer, Farid, mentions a brutal murder in Egypt, Qinawi quickly changes his mood, quieting down and becomes visibly uneasy. Clearly this news influences Qinawi, and he leaves quickly to buy a large knife to develop his violent plans. This action does directly not support the argument that western influences were corrupting Qinawi, rather it implies that he needed only the idea of violence in order to commit murder. Furthermore, one of the few and short-lived joyous moments in the film is fueled by Hanuma dancing with western style rockabilly musicians on a train. In this scene, the music and the cheerful dancing counters the uneasy gaze of Qinawi, as Hanuma clearly attempts to neutralize tensions with the deranged man through offering him free soda. To this end western influences can be seen in a more positive light, where music and dance lightens to mood and lifts the character’s spirits.

Joussef Chahine’s complex portrayal of insanity within the post-colonial urban context defies simple categorization, leaving the viewer with a wealth of possible interpretations. I find that this film directly depicts modern Egypt without a specific negative or positive agenda, while maintaining a highly critical eye that focuses on the modern activities of lower-class Egyptians.

Destination Tokyo (DVD WHV 269)

Where’s the dividing line between cinematic escapism and wartime propagandizing? Shouldn’t an effective—as in manipulative—piece of wartime propaganda inspire a citizenry to re-double their efforts to defeat the enemy du jour? And shouldn’t an effective—as in manipulative, again—piece of cinematic escapism temporarily lobotomize the viewer into a laconic stupor? They may seem like opposites a first—fervent vs. stupefied—but both share a common goal: beguiling the viewing into a state of non-reflexivity.

With Destination Tokyo (1943), propagandist and escapist tendencies merge for a jingoistic underwater adventure. In this, Cary Grant’s only wartime movie, the submarine U.S.S. Copperfin sets off from SF for a secret reconnaissance mission of Tokyo Bay. This mission, in turn, gives Doolittle’s Raiders the info needed to inflict maximum punishment on the Imperial Fleet. Through a combination of racist rhetoric, diminutive special effects, an essentialized crew (e.g., hothead, rookie recruit, womanizer), and bombs-bombs-bombs, an escapist/propagandist haze reigns that makes no mention, of course, of the estimated 250,000 innocent Chinese that were killed by the Japanese as a result of the raids, or of the six Japanese schools that were accidentally bombed by the Raiders. So why watch it? Will it provide a lens through which we can better focus on today’s escapist, propagandist, and non-reflexive cinematic consumables?

The Sheik - 1921

In George Melford’s The Sheik (1921) the viewer is presented with a wealth of western orientialist clichés and stereotypes that must have appeared standard for the era. This silent adventure-romance, though set in the desert town of Biskra, remains vague as to its exact location within the French Middle Eastern colonies. The film unabashedly bases it’s wealth of generalizations on negative and often absurd portrayals and Arab culture or dress. While the actual town of Biskra sits in modern-day Algeria, a former French colony, the town itself lies within a complex region dominated by Berber, Turkish and Arab influences. None of these complexities fit within the simplified image placed forward in the film, which simply refers to all the explicitly non-western peoples as Arabs.

The portrayal of so-called Arab culture within the film may appear comical to some modern viewers, yet it is representative of an orientalizing impulse that appears throughout western literature and the arts of the time. As Edward Said, within the introduction of his groundbreaking work Orientalism writes: “…there emerged a complex Orient suitable for study in the academy, for displaying the museum, for reconstruction in the colonial office” This display, as illustrated in the film, could include harshly negative views of Arab culture as being barbaric, uncivilized, or cruel. The antagonizing forces within the film are Arab leaders and their henchmen. Furthermore, the Arab tribes never live within the city, and camp in the desert for no explicit purpose.

Sexuality and gender roles play a pivotal role within the film, driving the characters into their actions and defining their positions of power or submissiveness. The film largely capitalizes on the romantic, erotic and supposed barbaric elements within Arab culture, as defined through an orientalist framework. As Said makes note, cultural and racial generalizations on sexuality lead to “a great many Victorian pornographic novels [such as] The Lustful Turk”. The Sheik fulfills this orientist role as a lustful character, and he clearly asserts this along with a startling sexual dominance. After capturing Diana, the Sheik says to the distraught Diana :“I could make you love me”, clearly asserting his power of seduction and sexuality over the independent western woman.

The entire narrative revolves around this gradual shifting of power and gender roles, with the Shiek eventually re-affirming male dominance. Within the opening section of the film, Diana sees herself as clearly superior and more civilized than the Sheik, and at one point in the Casino, she draws a gun on the Sheik with a stern face and rigid posture. Within Biskra, she believes herself to be above the Sheik, yet after her capture by the Sheik in the desert, the roll reverses and Diana stays at the mercy of her captor, begging and crying before him, while eventually succumbing to his authority.