Hani Mustafa on the battle of Ramadan soaps The prime-time television slot in Ramadan follows immediately after the light post-iftar shows and it is invariably filled by drama serials, the fabled Ramadan soaps watched by millions. They are intended, perhaps, to provide some kind of counter ballast to the frivolity that precedes, tackling heavy weight and often controversial subjects and packaging them in a short format that is then repeated nightly throughout the holy month. It is a coveted slot and stories abound of Radio and Television Union officials scheming to give it to friends and of frustrated producers who have not secured a prime time schedule for their serials attacking those who have. Sometimes it seems that the drama and machinations involved in making the soaps are more interesting than the product. This year was no exception, and while there is nothing new in the press fanning the flames of controversy that seem to endlessly dog the soaps in the last few weeks it has outdone itself. The initial focus of controversy, perhaps inevitably, was religion and its portrayal on the small screen. In the early nineties Ismail Abdel-Hafiz's Al-A'ila (The Family) became the subject of heated debate. Starring the late Mahmoud Mursi, it had clearly set out to critique the rising fundamentalist tide. Yet whatever its merits as drama it was the critical references in the serial to some of the Prophet Mohamed's sayings concerning the "judgment of the grave" that attracted the most attention as religious parties moved on the offensive. Azharites, in particular, pointed out errors in Al-A'ila which, they lamented, should have been "revised" before it was broadcast. A few years later and it was the turn of Samir Seif's Awan Al-Ward (Rose Time) to get up the noses of the clergy, though this time it was Coptic priests who were riled by a serial, starring Yousra and Hisham Abdel-Hamid, which broached the question of Christian women marrying Muslim men. This year two biographical series, Al-Andalib starring Shadi Shamel as the late singer Abdel-Halim Hafez and Cinderella starring Mona Zaki as the late actress Soad Hosni, "the Cinderella of the Arab screen", directed by Gamal Abdel-Hamid and Samir Seif, respectively, have elicited a great deal of comment, though that is only to be expected in this age of the celebrity cult. Nor is it a surprise that much of the comment should have focussed on depictions of the two stars' private lives. Prurience, sadly, does not abate, at least not post-sunset, though one can sympathise with the singer Nagat Al-Saghira, Hosny's sister, who complained about scenes dealing with her own private life. In Mohamed Fadel's Sikkat El-Hilali (El-Hilali's Way) and Rabab Hussein's Hadrat Al-Muttaham Abi (The Respectable Suspect, My Father) -- the first starring Yehia El-Fakharani, the second Nour El-Sherif -- it was politics that excited controversy, the producers of both banking on memories of last year's parliamentary elections being fresh enough in people's minds to attract an audience. Then both, for good measure, added a little religion to the broth, if only in the form of the hijab. Unveiled actresses Nihal Anbar and Maali Zayid, playing the veiled wives of the two shows' politician protagonists, showed their hair in indoor scenes. The ensuing debate was predictable at least. Veiling again hit the headlines with the return to the screen, after a decade- long absence, of Soheir El-Babli in Khairi Bishara's Qalb Habiba (Habiba's Heart), and the appearance of the newly- veiled Hanan Turk in Omar Zahran's Awlad Al-Shawari' (Street Children), with critics engaging in a somewhat circular discussion of whether wearing a headscarf indoors is dramatically justified. It all depends, one must suppose, on the kind of realism being aimed for. Neither show was broadcast on national television, a fate that also befell Tayseer Abboud's Habib Al-Roh (Sweetheart), starring Soheir Ramzi, one of the oldest veiled "retirees", prompting Muslim Brotherhood People's Assembly member Ibrahim Zakariya Younis to demand of Prime Minister Ahmed Nazif and Information Minister Anas El-Fiqi whether these state-funded productions had been restricted to satellite channels because their female stars appear veiled throughout. The director of Sawt Al-Qahira, the company that produced them then announced that all three would be broadcast on national channels after the Eid. Nor are historical dramas immune to controversy. In the 1980s Abu Ubaida Ibn Al-Jarrah, starring Ezzat El-Alayli, was discontinued after three episodes after Al-Azhar objected to the portrayal of a companion of the Prophet. Two years ago the Jordanian series Al-Tariq ila Kabul (The Road to Kabul) was discontinued after nine episodes following pressure from Washington. The US, it seemed, did not want its role in the rise of the Taliban and Bin Laden broadcast in prime time. Najdat Anzour's excellent Hour Al-Ein (Virgin Nymphs), in dealing with suicide operations and the ideology of Jihad, trod similar ground to Al-Tariq ila Kabul, and also confirmed Syria's reputation in producing period dramas, much to the chagrin of many Egyptians. How, thundered Egyptian actor Ahmed Maher, during a talk show, could director Ismail Abdel-Hafiz have cast the , who made his name two years ago in Al-Taghribah Al-Falastiniyah (The Palestinian Journey), as an Upper Egyptian in this year's Hada'iq Al-Shaytan (Devil's Fields), aired on the satellite channels MBC and ART. Comedy superstar Adel Imam replied by phone, pointing out that Egypt has always welcomed artists from other Arab countries. Not the most thrilling of controversies but it paid off and viewing figures soared not only in Egypt but Syria and the Gulf. Which goes to show there's no harm at all in a bit of free publicity.
