Mohamed Saad may be trying to escape El-Limbi, but for what, asks Mohamed El-Assyouti Al-Nazer (The Principal), written by Ahmed Abdallah, directed by Sherif Arafa, and starring the late Alaa Walieddin, introduced the character of El-Limbi, an illiterate, unemployed vagabond played by a then unknown actor, Mohamed Saad. A year later Saad co-starred with Ahmed Helmi in 55 Esaaf (Ambulance 55), which scored a minor success. It was not, though, until the character of El- Limbi was resurrected, in the film of that title, produced by the El-Sobki brothers, written by Abdallah and directed by Wael Ihsan, that Saad was launched as a top box office grossing star. El-Limbi's version of the Umm Kulthoum song Hobb Eih was suddenly being repeated by adolescents everywhere. El-Limbi, and its sequel Elli Bali Balak (You Know Who I Mean), were a fixture of satellite channels in the run up to the 8 July release of Saad's latest film, Okal. On the first weekend of the release crowds gathered in front of cinema Cosmos, which was showing the film on its two biggest screens simultaneously. In front of the box office the crowd became a scrum, while ticket touts operated around the margins. Downtown cinemas were quick to capitalise, scheduling an extra screening at 2.30am to mop up those who had failed to secure tickets for earlier screenings. It has become a lucrative business. With Downtown cinemas charging between LE10-LE15 a ticket, and clubs and hotels -- some of which have programmed two screenings a day, charging anything between LE6.50-LE50 a ticket, (the most expensive tickets usually include a meal) -- the takings become enormous. Add to that the ticket receipts from cinemas attached to shopping malls and hotels -- which charge between LE20- LE30 and, hey presto, the phenomenon of an Egyptian film grossing LE13 million in its first three weeks of release is born. Adolescents and teenagers, Egyptian and Arab families vacationing on the beach or in Cairo, working class and middle class residents of the cities -- they have all been willing to dig into their pockets. Okal is the third Mohamed Saad vehicle, and in it he continues the process started in the penultimate film as he tries to cut loose from the character of El- Limbi. Audiences apparently have an insatiable appetite for the character, which places Saad in a dilemma -- how can he show himself a capable comedian and not let down an audience that has grown accustomed to seeing stars burn themselves out by playing the same type of character over and over again? Saad resorts to an old trick. He does what comedians have long done, and plays two roles, just as he did in Elli Bali Balak. In that film many considered Saad's performance as El-Manfalouti, the sadistic prison warden, to have overshadowed his playing of El-Limbi, something, one assumes, the actor would have been happy to hear. In Okal he plays both the title character, a lower working class loser -- both professionally and romantically. It is little more than a variation on the character of El-Limbi. But he also plays Grannie Attatta, Okal's great grandmother -- a character as far removed from El-Limbi and El-Manfalouti as possible. And he does it sufficiently convincingly that several audience members next to me realised the fact only when it was announced in the end credits. Craving cigarettes, picking quarrels with enemies, strangers and friends alike, suffering from an Alzheimer-like memory loss, Attatta is a truly comic character. But can one character make a film? Okal, unfortunately, provides insufficient laughter to justify its two hour screening time. Nor does it make up for that lack by providing solace of an emotional or intellectual kind. Okal, finally, is vapid escapism, however dexterous Saad's cross-dressing. The audience may laugh at the antics of its star but that laughter rings hollow. The only real fun is being had by the beneficiaries of all that box office money.
