The Full Film
Reel Bad Arabs - How Hollywood Vilifies a People (by AliHusseinFaraji)
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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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@talkingaboutthemiddleeast
The Full Film
Reel Bad Arabs - How Hollywood Vilifies a People (by AliHusseinFaraji)
Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People (by ChallengingMedia)
RAGS & TATTERS (by TIFF)
Ahmad Abdalla's eerily prescient Microphone, which premiered at the Festival in 2010, captured in pseudo-documentary style the despair, rage, and creative energy of the youth who would eventually become the vanguard — and cannon fodder — in Egypt's revolution. (Ironically, it was released in theatres in Egypt on January 25, 2011, the initial Day of Revolt that gave the uprising its name.) His latest, Rags and Tatters, picks up where Microphone ended, narrating the stories of those who were cast aside from the revolution's sweep.
Set in Cairo's poor neighbourhoods, the plot follows an unnamed fugitive (Asser Yasin) from the notorious jailbreak that took place in the early days of the revolution, and his anguished search for a warm and safe shelter.
With sparse dialogue, contemplative long takes, and nameless characters, Abdalla weaves documentary vignettes with Sufi chants and poetry in a hand-held style inspired by the amateur footage that flooded the media tent in Tahrir Square where the filmmaker volunteered during the eighteen days of the insurgency in 2011.
Rags and Tatters reflects on how film can translate the intensity of what Egyptians experienced — the contrasting moments of blind violence, salutary compassion, and unimagined joy — beyond sophistry and testimonies.
Borrowing its title from a line from an improvised poetry-chanting competition (a Sufi tradition), the film unfolds like an ode to the deeper significance of the revolution, beyond the political, ending with a call for all Egyptians, privileged and castaways, to remake their own destiny.
"Muslim women of color just can’t win. If we talk about misogyny in our societies and how Muslim men don’t really want to change it we’re afraid it will be co-opted by racist white ‘progressives’ and ‘feminists’ as something inherent to our skin and culture and will use it as an excuse to push for nationalist agendas ignorant of our complex histories. So us Muslim women of color learn to talk in bursts, snippets or to stay silent and internalize it. But never at length. It’s not easy being a woman of color who finds her own defined solace in her religion but not in most men of her religion and it’s not easy being a woman of color who wants to practice her religion without having a White Savior hover over her body and life." — Ilana Alazzeh
An artist never works under ideal conditions, if they existed his work wouldn't exist, for the artist doesn't live in a vacuum. Some sort of pressure must exist: the artist exists because the world is not perfect, art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn't look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world.
Tarkovski on Arts, Solitude and Life - YouTube
Around the world—except in China, where the government banned the word “Egypt” from its Google search engine—images of Tahrir spilled into living spaces. Transcending computers, televisions screens and other virtual channels, the images inexorably spread the energy of the square. As Žižek said when interviewed about the Arab revolutions, “It was a genuine universal event, immediately understandable… As every true universality, it’s a universality of struggle.” Unlike during other conflicts that provoked a media shift, namely the Gulf War and 9/11, people all over the world identified with the protesters in the square. Tahrir became everyone’s revolution. Occupy movements followed in a chain reaction. There was a wave of awakening from Tunisia to Egypt, Libya and other Arab countries, and from Cairo to Madrid, Athens and beyond. The cause differed but the inspiration was contagious. Was image-making impacting the world and, if not changing it, shaking its order by helping people to rethink their relationship to political powers?
Is this not a type of documentary music-making? Using found recordings and sounds to make a statement in an entertaining manner.
"Checkpoint 303 is inspired by the sounds that pace the daily lives of millions of people in the middle east. screeching sounds of bullets. echoing injustice. uproar. revolt. dispair and sadness. and still amidst all this the soothing sounds. of hope. of normality. trivial acts. life like everywhere else. this is not a video game. violence is not a moving image on tv. it's the daily nightmare of millions..."
Checkpoint 303 - Gaza Calling (by Codruta Oprean)
I miss noise. I miss crowded streets. I miss being stuck in za7ma with a funny taxi driver and Oum Kalthoum on the radio. I miss the rush from crossing traffic one lane at a time through the driving cars. I miss obstacle-course sidewalks. I miss 24hour koushks. i miss feeling safe in the streets because there's 20 men staring at me at any point in time (my logic) I miss being able to ask any person for help on the sidewalk and they will do whatever they can to help me, even if they have no idea what I'm looking for. I miss talking politics every day with anyone willing to. I miss seeing fireworks nearly every night. I miss shisha. I miss drinking shay bi n3n3a. I miss falucas and party boats on the nile. I miss the blaring sha3bi music from tuk tuks. I miss borio shakes. I miss the foul guys, the 3eesh guy on his bike, the vegetable ladies, the flower sellers. I miss the utter chaos when ordering at Shabrawy at lunch. I miss the makwa boy who was always so excited to make small-talk when he delivered my freshly ironed clothes. I miss admiring the amazing scarves of the galabeya-clad bowabs. I miss screwing over taxi drivers who try to screw me over on the fare (karma!) I miss the little routine of buying water from the same koushk lady every day. I miss walking the peaceful streets of Zamalek at 4am, seeing all the embassy security guards sleeping at their posts. I miss seeing people pushing double-parked cars out of the way. I miss the obsession with fresh fruit drinks and konbellas. I miss seeing the original handsfree-calling hijabis. I miss the little successes in my quest of convincing people I'm Shabraweyya. I miss being able to run all errands on foot in walking distance to my apartment, until as late as midnight. I miss how unpredictable the easiest task can become. I miss going on mini-adventures exploring different neighborhoods of the city. I miss the impromptu conversations Egyptians start with me, the utter patience they have with my Arabic and the way they talk to me as if we've been friends our whole lives. I miss how quickly Egyptians considered me their friend, and would want to meet up all the time. I miss the 'can i get you anything?' at the end of every single call with practically every Egyptian. I miss all the ya habibi, ya 3am, ya basha, ya 3asel, ya reyyees. I miss feeling like my language skills are improving every day. I miss feeling like I'm walking through historic streets, where the old world and new world continually meet. I miss feeling like history is being made around me every day. Damn I miss Cairo.
Tinne Van Loon
Words from a Cairo friend, on finding love in conflict areas: "Oh Middle East, how does it happen that the word 'drone' could make a man feel a pang of romantic sorrow? How does that conjure up thoughts of a girl?"
"Cairo consumes you. You forget who you are if you stay here too long. You forget that the rest of the world exists...Having Cairo as a home is like falling in love with a fascinating man who will never remember your name." - Deena Adel Eid
Mariam Kirollos
MUST READ: Cairo's 25-million man orchestra - by Amr M Hussein Yesterday, the startling piece of the Harvard graduate Heba El Habashy created a very tense conversation between my friends while discussing it on social media.
In the beginning, when you read the title, you will think she is an Ivy League Egyptian dreamer, disconnected from reality. But when you finish it you can only respect her for choosing this title that glued you to your screen till the last word. Personally, I loved the piece. Heba was very smart in putting the topics in that order. She started with the security issue, the major issue that faces this city. Security is the biggest issue because Cairo was known worldwide as one of the safest cities in the world. I still remember that 3 years ago I could hang out in the streets of Sayeda Zeinab with a group of European and American friends till 5 AM. I can hardly name any populous city that is safer than Cairo in 2010. The tension between my friends started because of a similar conflict I have been through… When should I hate the dreadful belongings that shape this city? And when should I grasp the beauty of it? When should you view the humble young man washing cars on the streets everyday as an uncivilized thing that irritates you, and when should it put a smile on your face? Does being optimistic make you disconnected from reality? Does being pessimistic question your patriotism? Should I be optimistic and stay? Should I be pessimistic and leave? The answer is very simple. If you are a fresh graduate or in an early career stage then you have to leave. No doubt, you have to leave to save your prosperous future because, realistically, developing and thriving in Egypt under the existing circumstances is unlikely to happen. You have to leave to discover the intrinsic charm of your city that you will never find in the Dubais of the world. You have to leave to find out that people are happier in Cairo than any city in Europe. You have to leave to realize the difference between being a part inside the gearbox of a city and being an instrument playing a symphony that has its unique taste and exclusive aroma. Yes, the city is full of deficiencies that I can keep talking about for hours. Yes, it lacks work ethics; yes, it lacks mutual respect between people. Some may just give up and lose hope.
Some may claim it would be very nationalist and emotional if he stayed.
Some may wonder if this city is worth fighting for. Some may wonder what's magical about the hustle to survive; Heba said, "This is a place where people need to hustle to survive. They need to run after the bus because it does not stop for them." I get the symbolism; she's talking about the socioeconomic class who don't have to struggle for a living but they now have to struggle and fight to restore the beauty of their city. Some may claim it's unrealistic.
Some may claim it's risky to invest here. If investing in a city with 20% income tax, a city where gas is cheaper than water, a city where millions go out and stay up till dawn every day is considered risky, I have no idea where else you should invest your money. When a megaproject is delivered on time under these severe conditions, while the same project owner is struggling to complete it on time in the safest and most organized city in the world, then I am not a disconnected optimist. When three young gents are able to create a website and sell it for millions in one year, then I am not a loony utopian. When five young ladies open a used books café in 2011, and then a second branch in 2012, then I am not a naïve dreamer. If you have any creative idea, just do it. Don't wait for better laws and regulations, because that might not happen. Don't wait for an initiative in the media, because media is no longer capable of impressing the people. Don't wait for a proper president, because the next one might be poorer.
Original article discussed here: https://medium.com/i-m-h-o/5e5c6b702fd5
Did you know Cairo was built by Shias in the 10th century? Did you know it was also the Shias who built Al-Azhar university, the most respected Sunni Islamic learning center in the world? Egypt used to be the center of the Shia Fatimid caliphate. It seems to me that the Brotherhood/Salafis are attempting to eradicate Egypt's history, its core identity... Persecuting Copts (aka the original Egyptians), the Shias (who built Cairo) & some even want to get rid of Pharoanic relics (considering them as "2asnam!") #ErasingEgypt
Deena Adel Eid
Today I realized one of the main differences between the Egyptian education I received all my life, and the education I'm getting right now. In my school classroom and university lecture halls, we always had to sit quietly. The only time we could speak was if we had a question, and the teacher would give us the right answer. Today, I sat in class and realized that the students were doing most of the talking. Someone would give an opinion, another student would give a completely opposing opinion, and a third person would say something else entirely. I waited for the professor to tell us who was right, but he only pointed out how different everyone's response was. I was always taught that the teacher has the right answer. Today, I go to class to learn that there is no right or wrong, only different opinions. Different techniques, different perspectives, different sides to each story, different stories to each side, different reactions to the same situation... The roots of the polarization we're facing today in Egypt, even among the well-educated crowds, go back to our classrooms. The idea that there is only one right answer, that you're either right or you're wrong. We were never taught how to discuss issues. We never learned how to disagree and let the disagreement be restricted to the situation at hand - we can still be friends! Our education (and lack thereof) is the root of all evil.
Deena Adel Eid
Watching from afar, it's sad seeing the region I call home reduced to stories of death & conflict. We are so much more than that. Where are the storytellers? Tell us about the Egyptian who's the first in his family to go to college. Tell us about the Syrian woman who's a kickass lawyer or the Iraqi boy who's an incredible poet. Tell us about your daily life and the project you just completed at work. Just as Africa has been reduced to images of starving children, the Middle East has been reduced to images of people fighting each other and blowing themselves up. And I guess we contribute to it, in a way, by only sharing stories about conflict.
Deena Adel Eid