Cairo Time

On Saturday afternoon while my contemporaries were beginning their binge drinking, the little art nerd who has loved romantic films since Sleeping Beauty, went all the way by herself to Sydney’s state theatre to see Rubba Nata’s film ‘Cairo Time.’
The beauty of this film comes not only from the staggering backdrop that is Cairo, but also from the muted romance and attraction which builds between the two lead characters Juliette Grant (played by gorgeous actress Patricia Clarkson) and Tareq Khalifa (played by little bit spunky Alexander Siddig).

The premise of the film is that Juliette has travelled to Cairo to visit her husband who works for the United Nations. Unfortunately Juliette’s husband has been detained in Gaza and she must wait for him for an unknown amount of time.

Juliette goes out exploring in Cairo, facing culture shock. Not only is Juliette overwhelmed by the heat of the city, but she is also followed and stared at by groups of men who get very close into her personal space. Nata does not actively engage in Muslim criticism, but it is clear from Juliette’s reaction that some of the things that happen in Cairo are impossible for her to comprehend or accept. A funny parallel to Juliette’s brief stay in the city of the pyramids are the lives of the western wives who seem to lay around the gardens of a lush foreigners club, and bitch about the state of the dirty streets in Egypt.

Perhaps the most tragic moment sprinkled amongst the poignant and funny episodes throughout the film is the interaction between Juliette and Yasmeen (Amina Annabi) on a bus bound for Gaza. Juliette, who has decided to take the matter of seeing her husband into her own hands, bounds the bus, and sits next to the only other woman present. The bus is pulled over by authorities and when Juliette panics, Yasmeen tells her she will be alright because she is American, but asks that Juliette take a letter for her and deliver it. On returning to the city, having been picked up by Tareq, Juliette informs him of the letter and her plan to deliver it. Tareq immediately opens it and when Juliette cries out that he can’t do that, Tareq explains that it could be dangerous; someone could be trying to get them in trouble. The contents of the letter turn out to be something else entirely. Yasmeen has left Cairo, University and her boyfriend because she is pregnant. When Juliette and Tareq track down the young man, he has no desire to know.

There is a distinct discussion of class in Egypt as a setting for the growing attraction between Tareq and Juliette. Juliette struggles to understand how Egypt works and despairs at the inequality and unfairness of the plight of people like Yasmeen and the young girls who work in the carpet factory. Tareq accepts the inequalities as the ways of his country.

Their romance and the sexual tension between them grows and grows and abruptly halts when Juliettes husband finally arrives back in Egypt.


Definitely worth a view or two, if not only for the stunning backdrop, but also because this film reminds you that love isn’t always as straightforward or perfect as it seems.


Paris

Sydney Film Festival 2010 - The Refuge

The 2010 Sydney Film Festival is underway and so far it’s been nothing short of excellent. Great reviews and a lot of pleased Sydneysiders. The 2010 selection is varied and interesting, and after its first week, tickets are selling fast.
I was fortunate enough to see three films over the weekend, which I slotted into my busy schedule. It’s a difficult time of the year for students as the festival falls right on the exam period, and assignment handing in time. One might wonder at the lack of youthful faces dotting the crowd, but amongst my creative set, the timing is just too close to the wire for us last-minute types.


The Refuge
It’s always fun to go and see a French film. It makes you feel like your life is sane and normal, even if the rest of the time it seems crazy and like you could get seven screenplays worth of juice if you just gave a little squeeze.
Never have I experienced more tangled relationships or strange vignettes of human existence than the last few French films I have seen. The Refuge is no exception.
Directed by FRANÇOIS OZON the film stars French babe Isabelle Carré as Mousse, a heroin addict whom we are introduced to at the start of the film stretched out on a sweaty bed in a French apartment. The opening scene also stars Melvil Poupaud as Louis, the spunkiest, buffest heroin addict I have ever seen (they just don’t make junkies like that here in Sydney).

I’ll admit that I could have easily walked out of the cinema after the first ten minutes. I’m not someone who is great with needles, and the scene where Louis and Mousse try and find a vein to try and shoot up was almost more than I could take. Particularly shudder inducing is when Louis injects himself in the neck for lack of another option. Cringeworthy. Think Trainspotting and Requiem for a dream, with the hotness of Heath and Abbie from Candy, plus French accents and you’ve pretty much seen the first ten minutes of Ozon’s film.

Well, as we have learned from the films above, things cannot go on being sexy and heroin-y forever. Louis overdoses, (which is a shame because I would have appreciated seeing more of Poupaud’s naked pecs glistening onscreen) and the inevitable fallout ensues.

Mousse wakes up in a hospital bed and is informed Louis is dead, and also that she is pregnant. After being told that the family would prefer it if Mousse were to have an abortion, the tragically beautiful woman walks out of the mansion and into the unknown.

In typical art-house fashion, we then seem to skip forward an unidentifiable amount of time. Paul, Louis super hot brother played by Louis-Ronan Choisy arrives in a small, gorgeous seaside town and takes a taxi to a beautiful little cottage. Mousse opens the door. She is heavily pregnant.

What follows is a story of two people getting to know each other. Mousse still grieves, but the presence of Paul helps to ease the pain. We learn a lot about Mousse and Paul, and it’s not what you would expect at all. It is as though they are both seeking a refuge of some kind, but neither of them really seems to find it. There are plenty of sequences with Mousse and Paul being transported, by car, by train, walking through the town. Both of them are always on the move from something.
I love the French way of splicing pieces of life together, so I would have to rate this a “Go-See-for-the babes-and-the-countryside-and-oh-yeah-its-got-a-pretty-good-plotline-too.”

Paris