Stuck in the comedian's role, encapsulates Egyptian movie-making's major dilemma The camera pans across a coffee shop in which people are lying on the ground, moaning in pain, clothes torn and wounds bleeding. "If Booha was here, none of this would have happened," one of them laments. A group of men seek Booha out so that he can help them get their revenge. Enter Booha, his feeble chest puffed out and ready for action. Flying chairs, smashed tables and glasses breaking indicate that this is a person to be reckoned with. But, as the dust settles, Booha staggers out, bruised and battered, and a little worse for wear. The sharp contrast between Booha's inflated sense of power and strength, and the debilitated figure that emerges after the fight constitutes the archetypal fetewwa el-da'if, or "puny thug", and is a figure that is played out again and again in comedies. It also seems an apt metaphor for the box office success of films considered weak by critics -- of which 2005 produced many. In fact, cinema- goers might be hard pressed to recall memorable moments in this year's crop of films. Saad topped the 2005 revenue chart with Booha, which was directed by Rami Imam. Made at minimal cost, the film grossed almost LE27 million. This is no small sum, with the profit margin seemingly exceeding that gained from illegal trade in drugs or weapons -- and probably the main reason why comedies are now the only films that get instant approval from all producers. Admittedly, there were a number of films that ventured away from generic comedy. Mallaky Iskandaria (Private Alex), directed by Sandra Nachaat, made an attempt to borrow from film noir, but was, however, tainted with several blunders in basic drama. Harb Atalia, (Italian War), directed by Ahmed Saleh, was an attempt at the light adventure film. Despite these exceptions, comedies continued to be the most popular genre, watered down drama notwithstanding. Most of the 2005 comedies blurred into one short-lived burst of laughter -- the claim that 'people just want to laugh' no longer seems to be a satisfactory response to the question of why the Egyptian film industry is so intent on making the same kinds of films. Comedies did play a primary role in ending one of the worst phases in the history of Egyptian cinema when, in the 1990s, film Enter a new generation of comedians, most notably Hani Ramzi who played opposite Heneidy, Ahmed El-Saqa (who later specialised in action flicks) and the late Alaa Walieddin. Though not amongst this new generation of comedians, was spotted performing alongside Walieddin in Al-Nazer (The Headmaster), which was directed by Sherif Arafa in 2001. His role was that of a young and reckless, easily enraged working class man who behaves irrationally, and whose speech is unclear and slurred. Most significantly, this was a hero who boasted a bravery and heroism he did not posses. These elements formed the basic features of the character called "Al-Limby", variations of whom Saad has continued to play in subsequent films. This familiar figure in Egyptian society has usually been portrayed with a certain degree of heroism and morality. In Saad's films, however, little effort is made to provide the character with any depth. This is as apparent in Al-Limby (I and II), as it is in Saad's latest film, Booha. If anything, the Booha character is far more simplified, and no attempt is made to explain the psychological make-up of such a disgruntled generation of usually downtrodden youth who are only able to express themselves and vent their frustration in fickle brawls. The role is not new to Egyptian cinema. In the 1980s, Adel Imam introduced comedies that had a similar plot, but Imam was more intent on presenting the traditional hero figure who confronts the corrupt leaders of society, and wins. The logic behind Saad's characters is played out differently. He does not choose battles and confronta Simple as this formula may seem, people flocked to movie theatres to see Saad in action. Those looking down on him watched with a desire to see the puny thug, and laugh at his misfortune. Others sought to face, through him, the higher powers of society -- even if the somewhat predictable and rash confrontation proved more hazardous than fulfilling. Adel Imam's films of the late 1970s and 80s emerged in response to the formation of a new class of businessmen who had gained power through Sadat's mid-1970s Open Door policy. Imam played the hero who confronted the corruption of this emergent class. Considering this kind of corruption continues to prosper, perhaps Saad constitutes a 21st century version of this hero. The box office revenues of Saad's films are more than enough to encourage any producer to continue financing the same lucrative style of film. But Egyptian audiences are notorious for becoming bored quickly. And while they may enjoy comedies, and might even tolerate another four or five similar films, the next steps will truly determine Saad's future. In the past, Adel Imam did not stick to comedies -- he also starred in deeper and more sensitive dramas such as Al-Avocato (The Lawyer) by Raafat El Mihi, and Al-Harrif (The Professional) by Mohamed Khan. Bearing in mind that Saad, like Imam, is a good actor who has successfully played dramatic supporting roles in cinema and television in the past, one hopes that he will be able to introduce greater variety in his future roles. Otherwise, Egyptian cinema seems doomed to the perpetual production of frivolous fights and cheap gags. By Hani Mustafa
