An unexpectedly pleasant surprise: Injy El-Kashef goes to the movies Except for Mohamed Saad's captivating buffoonery and Ahmed Mekki's charismatic hilarity, I would rather watch paint drying than suffer any of the lot of actors purporting to be funny on the big screen. When I was requested to review Kallemni Shokran, therefore, I dragged my feet to the movie theatre, grumbling between my teeth as I expected an excruciating experience based on the title of the film, which sounded way too similar to cheap comedies for any optimism on my part. Everything changed once I stood in front of the film poster by the ticket booth and read the director's name. Khaled Youssef, director of Dukkan Shehata, Heyya Fawda (co-directed by Youssef Chahine) and Heena Maysara, the champion of the disenfranchised who pushes the envelope to tell it like it is, had garnered enough respect for the sight of his name to alter my disposition. MobiNil's "kallemni shokran" is a simple concept: by entering the desired number preceded by the right code, you send a free text message to that number asking them to "Call me, thanks". The service is based on the understanding that a huge number of users cannot afford to recharge as often as they need to. By sponsoring the film, MobiNil has secured itself an even larger share of mass affection, as Kallemni Shokran proved to be another of Youssef's attempts at addressing a major issue. The 'ashwa'iyat or slum community the film depicts is representative of a very real and present state of being -- a growing population of the disenfranchised is as it were being disemboweled, with the challenges it faces for daily survival have become too formidable for any semblance of honour or virtue. The outcome is a social cannibalism entirely devoid of scruples that transforms the insult wati (lowly, deprived, and dishonorable) into a term of endearment between friends who seem to share an underlying agreement legitimating reciprocal backstabbing for personal survival. Played by Ghada Abdel-Razeq, Dahlia Ibrahim, Houreya Farghali, Iman, Ramy El-Gheit and Shady Khalaf, the events can be heart- wrenching, with the plot strung around a series of hilarious scenes and dialogue. Ibrahim Toshka, the lead role played by Amr Abdel-Gelil, echoes the dysfunctional speech patterns of Mohammad Saad's most famous character, El-Limby, though here the jumbled words become subversive comments rather than stoned ramblings. His chaotic sentences target the intertwined evils at the root of his community's plight: the educational system, overpopulation, corruption and the nation's lack of awareness of their very existence. Each character personifies both the warped ethics of a failing society and remoulded notions of morality pertaining to the particular community represented: Toshka, who dreams of stardom, is only disappointed that his face was blurred during his appearance on a television programme that fabricates documentary episodes to broadcast them as "the unknown truth". He attempts, time and again, to raise the dowry money requested by his bride's father by setting up small- scale illegal operations for quick gain -- never tires, never regrets and, more tellingly, never contemplates the "honest" route. Of interest is the fact that the only entity he harms, however, is one that cannot elicit much sympathy: Toshka tricks none other than the government and the moneymakers sucking the population dry, or those who obey them. For example, he extends satellite cables and connects them to the neighbourhood's television sets, enabling the diffusion of a high- profile national match they would otherwise be deprived of. And indeed the officer who comes to arrest him (informed by Toshka's friend who had paid the subscription and planned to extract LE10 from each of his neighbours who wished to watch), arriving at the opportune moment of a scored goal and cheering crowd, finally chooses to turn a blind eye and walks away. The role of the deceitful sheikh, played by Sabry Fawaz, which, according to MSN Arabia, "caused troubles [for] Khaled Youssef [who was] accused of offending the religious person's figure" was an excellent portrayal of the religious hypocrisy that has spread like wild fire over recent years. When asked why he grew a bread, this sheikh replies that it instantly establishes trust and improves business; questioned over his practice of selling flour on the black market rather than using it all in his bakery, causing the daily line for bread to grow longer and more stressful for the neighbourhood consumers, his defense is that he has no choice if he is to feed his own family. With three law suits to deal with, this controversial film, written by Sayed Fouad, opens a can of worms that has luckily seen the light of day, contrary to Khaled Youssef's expectations when he submitted the film to the censorship bureau. He expected a refusal, or at the very least the dreaded scissors to snip a few scenes out, only to find an approval along with the 18-year-old tag -- which parents are very well advised to abide by, as Kallemni Shokran is not only strewn with nudity and suggestive scenes, but is also quite high on obvious sexual innuendos in the hilarious dialogue.
