Sixty films on, and willing for more Shadow hands Profile by Mohamed El-Assyouti Camera-shy, as quiet as always, Nadia Shoukri's first remark is: "I don't think that I'll remember anything." She is tiny and her hands are those of a seamstress, though what Nadia Shoukri sews together are frames, suturing images and sounds to create the illusory space-time constructs we call films. That film editing, that most defining of all cinematic processes, constructs a kind of collective memory is a justification widely employed by politically-engaged filmmakers. Nadia Shoukri has been a film editor for several decades now. Born in Cairo Shoukri declines to specify her birth date, apologising by saying she is far too old. She completed her primary education at the French Bon Pasteur School in Shubra, the scene of her childhood. Her family later moved to Manshiyet Al-Bakri, then to Malika Nazli Street (currently Ramses Street), then to downtown, first to Al-Sharifein Street then to Gomhouriya Street. Her early memories thus comprise a montage juxtaposing images of mid-20th century Cairo. Both parents were Cairenes. Shoukri's father owned a haberdashery store, her mother was a housewife. She was not a naughty child but rather aloof and shy -- qualities that to a great extent she has maintained. She used to go to Ahli Club occasionally as a child, and she used to enjoy the movies and the singing of Umm Kulthoum as a teenager. Like most young women of her generation she fell in love with the voice of Abdel-Halim Hafiz. Unlike most young women of her generation, though, Abdel-Halim would later become a friend. Failing in Arabic language in the last year of what used to be called Al-Thaqafa, the equivalent of Thanawiya Amma, was a blessing in disguise. She left secondary school with no regrets. At the time there was no local film institute so, interested in filmmaking, she had to learn through practice. Fortunately director Hassan Rida was a family friend and he introduced her to film editor Hussein Afifi at Studio Al- Ahram. She was Afifi's apprentice for seven years, at the end of which she became his first assistant. In the second phase of her apprenticeship she was first assistant to Rashida Abdel-Salam on two films: the Marie Queenie-produced, Youssef Chahine-directed Fagr Yom Gedid (A New Day's Dawn) and Adham El-Sharqawi, directed by Hossameddin Mustafa. She was also responsible for effects on the Asia-produced, Chahine-directed Nasser Salaheddin and the Hassan El-Imam-directed Qasr Al- Shawq (Palace Walk) and Bein Al-Qasrein -- she specifically mentions the 1919 Revolution scene. Afifi used to like using stock classical music throughout the film. "I realised I didn't like his extensive use of musical score, which sometimes would be louder than the dialogue," she remarks, sparse soundtrack being a distinctive characteristic of most films she worked on. Producer Ramses Naguib gave Shoukri her first break as editor on a full feature. This was in 1964, on Al-Inab Al-Murr (Bitter Grapes), the directorial debut of Farouq Agrama who had just returned from the US. He shot the material with no sound, intending to dub the dialogue later, a new technique for Shoukri who had been used to editing visuals and sounds together. Even though Agrama cut a lot she managed to achieve very smooth transitions, which further secured her place in Naguib's good books. Next she worked with Hassan Rida, then on Ushaq Al-Hayat (Life's Lovers), directed by Helmi Halim and starring Nadia Lutfi and Muharram Fouad. Hassan El-Imam's Hikayet Al-Umr Kulluh (Story of a Lifetime), starring Farid Al-Atrash and Faten Hamama, followed. "I visited them on location in Alexandria the day they were filming the song in the horse carriage," she reminisces. Shy as she is she has never been averse to putting her foot down when it comes to improving the quality of her work. On Gafat Al-Dumou' (The Tears Dried, 1975) director Helmi Rafla had shot a particularly weak sequence between the lovers played by Nagaat and Mahmoud Yassin. Shoukri insisted the song be reshot. Rafla and the crew had to travel again for the reshoot, and he sent Shoukri a telegraph complaining about the financial costs of the reshoot. But she insisted: "I told Nagaat that I needed a romantic scene, that she should give him a hug and make sure they kissed each other." It was not uncommon to spend entire nights at the editing table. Khali Balak Min Zouzou was edited as it was being shot so that it would be ready for release during Eid 1973. Post-production of the film was just as rushed, though Shoukri's recall of the entire process is incomplete. She never really involved herself in the politics of financing and distribution, though she remembers that initially Salah Jahin was producing, and then took on Takfour Antonian as a partner. When the film became a box office sensation, staying almost a year in the cinemas, she felt the sleepless nights had been worth it. Shoukri's collaboration with the El-Imam totalled eight films, including Khali Balak Min Zouzou, the last instalment in the Mahfouz Cairo Trilogy, Al-Sukariya, and the musical Hikayti Maa Al-Zaman (My Story). El-Imam, whose characters typically included belly-dancers, was very expansive on set though, according to Shoukri, during post-production he would become reserved. "It later transpired that he had a valid vision in the way he was portraying belly-dancers. With the dominant elitism in scholarly research, who has a monopoly on the representation of the early 20th century Shari' Mohamed Ali?" she asks. And as a period filmmaker she believes El-Imam was flawless. The 1973 war heralded a series of propaganda films celebrating the victory. Shoukri edited the biggest production among these. Shoukri's first years as an editor coincided with the steady deterioration of the government's cinema organisation and, when Asia, Marie Queenie and Naguib went out of business even the influence of the entrepreneur artist/producer came to an end. By the mid-1970s there was no semblance of any system organising filmmaking. Every film became a "one- off" production, a "special case": if well-received those involved would thank their luck; if poorly received the film would be referred to as a "B-movie", she reminisces. It was not a situation that could have continued indefinitely and eventually the first shoots of a filmmaking movement did appear and it was one in which Shoukri would play an important role. Shoukri travelled to London to remove some parts from a TV-series produced by Riyad El-Iryan. Film editor Ahmed Metwali and cinematographer Said Shimi introduced her to Mohamed Khan, who was then living in London, and arranged for him to be her host for a month and a half. When she realised how passionate Khan was about filmmaking she encouraged him to return to Egypt to make films. In the late 1970s Khan sent her a letter telling her he was to direct Darbit Shams (Sun Stroke), a film he was personally financing and producing. Shoukri introduced him to Nour El- Sherif who then offered to produce the film. At the time she was introduced to Atef El-Tayyib. By the early 1980s El- Sherif had starred in four films, Darbit Shams and Al- Raghba (Desire) by Khan, and Al-Ghira Al-Qatilla (Killing Jealousy) and Swaq Al-Autobis (Bus Driver) by El-Tayyib, all of which Shoukri edited. Indeed her collaborations with the two directors would become the dominant feature of her work throughout the 1980s. By the early 1980s El-Tayyib, script writer Beshir El-Dik, Khan and Shoukri had formed Al-Suhba Films, the production company responsible for Al-Harif (Street Player), Adel Imam's only excursion in a venture governed by a sensibility that borders on independent, rather than mainstream, filmmaking. "I used to be traumatised when Khan announced that we still had another shooting week," she recalls. The executive producer had left and none of them had any expertise in financial matters. Takfour Antonian was the distributor, and until today they have yet to make their money back from that film. "I love editing. You know that I'm not much of a talker. I'm not much of an actress either. But I know how to make fun of them [actors] while editing and when they come to dub the sound. My love for this job made me practice, and it is only practice that makes perfect." Khan, El-Tayyib and Khairi Bishara were the first directors she had met who would stay with Shoukri throughout the post-production stages. El-Imam, Halim, Barakat, even Tawfiq Salih, with whom Shoukri collaborated on Yaomiyat Na'ib Minal-Ariyaf (Diary of a Country Attorney-General), would all leave her alone to get on with the job. "Tawfiq Salih, he is very strange. He is as crazy about cinema as Youssef Chahine. For instance, we'd be sitting on the editing table, then he would jump on the window sill to watch from a distance. He was funny. Maybe that's art. They're all crazy. Or may be I was crazy too," she muses. Sometimes the quality of the material would be so poor that her work became an essay in frustration. Shoukri's job would then be to find a round-about cinematic solution to any problems while keeping the filmmakers calm. While editing Al-Sa'aliq (Tramps), directed by Dawoud Abdel- Sayed, she remembers that she "had to be the one to say stop". "He likes to keep excessively long takes. Bishara too always liked to keep documentary material in the film that would have been better eliminated." But Khan, she says, "is very daring in this respect. He disposes of material that was really difficult to achieve during the shoot." Khan is currently at work editing his latest film, Kliphty, shot on digital video. And despite the fact that Shoukri will not be its editor "she will," insists the director, "be present as my long-time collaborator, as a friend and as my good omen." "All the films on which I collaborated with Khan, entailed a lot of hard work, but it was very enjoyable work. I used to have the pleasure of feeling that I was working on something worthwhile, not just the routine assembling of shots. I used to enjoy working with El-Tayyib too, but we often argued because we did not see eye to eye on the rhythm of the film. He would become emotionally attached to some of the material he had shot and refuse to cut it or get rid of it." Shoukri's favourite films are those in which Ahmed Zaki starred and Khan or El-Tayyib directed. "Zaki himself often says that these are his favourite films," she remarks. A less rewarding experience was working on Khan's Youssef we Zeinab, filmed on the Maldives Islands and then edited and mixed in India. "Even though Beshir El-Dik was the scriptwriter and Farouq El-Fishawi was starring next to a Maldivian actress, the film was far less relevant than the rest of Khan's output," she argues. In the early 1980s the release of Al-Bari', written by Wahid Hamed, directed by Atef El-Tayyib and starring Ahmed Zaki as a riot police cadet, was delayed for two years owing to censorship problems. "I never saw it in full on movie channels," Shoukri says. "There were several scenes, that the censors forced us to remove. Yet I always felt the film took a very positive view of the riot police cadet, and what matters is that it was released finally." I remind Shoukri that the rebellion of the central security forces, resulting in Cairo being placed under curfew, immediately followed the film. Yet she remains indifferent to the censors' elimination of the ending: "It was," she explains, "very poorly executed, Samira Ahmed's production being very weak." With director Nour El-Demerdash, Shoukri worked on several TV series shot on 35mm, including Al-Dawama and Al- Intiqam. "He used to shoot a lot of material, like Hassan El-Imam," she recalls. A great deal of footage had to be eliminated, which was good practice for Shoukri who became ever more daring. Her most recent TV film was Hikayat El-Gharib, directed by Inaam Mohamed Ali. "I try to work as much as I have energy for, which may vary from day to day. I don't drink a lot of coffee. One Nescafé with cream in the morning is enough for me all day." Shoukri is one of five children: her brother, Adel, is an executive producer; her sister Youzgat works in the Culture Ministry; Fayza, who recently died, is the mother of Sameh Selim, a very promising cinematographer; Suzanne is the mother of the young cinematographer Youssef Mahmoud Labib. Today, with old-fashioned manual editing tables obsolete, Shoukri spends most of her time in front of the TV screen. "Sometimes I watch the stupid soap operas and films on TV. But I like American TV films. I also like action and romantic films." In 1968, Shoukri married an interior designer and they lived together for eight years. He was very supportive, "very atypical of Egyptian husbands", and never complained when she was working late or when they did not see each other for several days on end. Their relationship was one of "friendship" and though, later, they lived separately they remained on very good terms until he died a few years ago. "It's good that I did not have children or anything because I would never have had the energy nor the time to spend most of my life bent over on the maviola," she says. Shoukri is oblivious to the fact that her filmography comprises more than 60 films. She laughs modestly when I tell her the figure. "Did I work on all those films?" she asks. "I never realised that. All this work was not easy. But it's fine. I love editing, and whenever I have a chance I still work, and I never care about the money."
