Tarik Saleh: “If I went to Egypt now, I would be arrested immediately.”

BarcelonaWith Eagles of CairoWith the film premiering this Friday, Tarik Saleh (Stockholm, 1972) concludes his trilogy of thrillers Set in Egypt, his father's country and where he himself studied art in the early nineties, the new film follows a famous actor pressured by the Al-Sisi regime to accept a role that will glorify the general who has ruled Egypt since 2014. Cinema, sex, politics, secrets, and lies shape a gripping drama starring the great Fares Fares, charismatic yet vulnerable when necessary.

This is a film about lies, truths, and cinema, and significantly, also a film about Egypt shot in Istanbul. Why did he have to shoot all three films of the Cairo Trilogy Outside of Egypt, and how has it affected films?

— He was obsessed with the idea of ​​filming in Egypt. And for the first film, Confidential CairoI had done all the pre-production in Egypt, and we were just days away from starting to film when I was kicked out of the country without warning. So we moved quickly and relocated the shoot to Casablanca. For me, it was a crisis, both personal and artistic. And I knew that if I left Egypt, I wouldn't be able to return. That is, I could return, but then they wouldn't let me leave. So I made the film in Morocco, and I thought about my heroes like Fellini filming Amarcord in Rome, and I realized that cinema is already about that, recreating other places. For the second film in the trilogy, Conspiracy in CairoI wanted to use Al-Azhar University, but it was already open persona non grata in Egypt, so I had two options: build the mosque, which we considered but was too expensive, or recreate it using a real site other than Al Azhar, which is what we did at the Suleiman Mosque in Istanbul.

And with Eagles of Cairo return to Istanbul.

— I actually wanted to film in Casablanca, because North Africa has an atmosphere you don't find in Turkey. For me, those details are very important. But a few weeks before we were to start filming, the Moroccan Minister of the Interior banned us from shooting. It was tough. But it had been a year since the October 7 attacks, and the regimes in the region were very worried; any spark could ignite an uprising. So we went back to Istanbul and had to rethink the film. There's a certain artifice in my films, but that's true of any film. What seems absolutely authentic or real to you in a film seems prefabricated to the actors who filmed it. So a film about truth is doomed to failure from the start because we're working in the midst of falsehood.

What is his current status in relation to Egypt? His films are highly critical of the Al-Sisi regime.

— If I went to Egypt now, I'd be arrested immediately. It's not that they'd prohibit me from filming; I'd be detained on the spot. And it's not so much because of the films themselves, but because of what I represent. Letting me do certain things would give people ideas. Eagles of Cairo It crosses many red lines. In Egypt, it's only permissible to mention Al-Sisi in a propaganda film. If the film isn't promoting the diet, his name can't appear. And he is depicted in my film. I want to make it very clear that this isn't a provocation. I didn't want to make an overtly political film. But the issue of his name presented an artistic dilemma.

What does he mean?

— If you make a film in Sweden, you can invent a fictional prime minister, because there are elections every four years and people can imagine it's someone else; it doesn't break the contract of credibility with the viewer. But in Russia or Egypt, it doesn't work because these leaders are permanent. If I invent an Egyptian president, people will think it's Al-Sisi. Just like if a Russian film features a president named Alexei instead of Vladimir Putin. And I don't like this approach. It's absurd and paradoxical, because at the same time it's still a commentary on Russia and Putin, or on Egypt and Al-Sisi. And I want to be honest and clear about this. If the premise is about the project of making a film about Al-Sisi's rise to power, there's no point in hiding it.

When I saw the film, I thought the premise—that the Egyptian regime wanted an actor like Fares Fares, tall, slender, and with long hair, to play a chubby, bald leader—was very clever. But while preparing for this interview, I discovered that it's based on real events.

— That's right. Some people think my film is a satire, but it isn't. In Egypt, 30% of the economy is managed by the military through a company called United. It looks like a normal company, it has a very professional website, but when you look at the names on the board of directors, they're all generals or heads of the state security council. The company's activities used to be agriculture, industry, and construction, but when Al-Sisi came to power, he seized control of the private television channels and film studios, which have a lot of influence and power, not only in Egypt but throughout the region, because Cairo is the Hollywood of the Middle East.

It has one of the oldest film studios in the world, right?

— Yes, but it goes beyond film. A billion Arabic speakers watch Egyptian television series and listen to Egyptian music. And as soon as the army took ownership of them, they openly declared they would start making patriotic films and series. They're even preparing an Egyptian superhero movie and things like that. And the first thing they did was a series called Al-Ikhtayar, what does it mean choiceAnd it portrays Al-Sisi's rise to power. But it's quite absurd, because it's been running for several seasons and he never actually comes to power. They've fallen in love with the concept, with the character fighting against the Muslim Brotherhood, being the head of the army but having to swear allegiance to things he doesn't believe in, and so on. The problem is that Al-Sisi is 1.66 meters tall and bald, but since they don't want to depict him that way, they've cast Yasser Galal, a tall actor with a lot of hair. It's like having Brad Pitt play Donald Trump. So, in a way, it's a very entertaining series.

But not for the people who participate.

— No, of course not. I started thinking about it when I was writing the script. Isn't it funny when you live in Egypt, work in the film industry, and the army calls you? I have friends who work on the series. If you get the call, what do you do? If you say no, you're no longer a patriot. Are you a traitor? Or maybe an Israeli spy? Suddenly, you're blacklisted. It's a huge dilemma. In any case, I'm horrified by the idea of ​​making films as commentary on real news. For me, the focus is on the compromises we, the most privileged, make to maintain our privileges. To what extent are we willing to lie to preserve them?

The most revealing dialogue in this regard is when the protagonist's actress friend asks him how they ended up like this, and he replies: "We speak other people's words and feel things that aren't ours." Recently, at the Berlinale, there was a debate about whether or not filmmakers should get involved in politics, but sometimes it's politics that attacks filmmakers.

— Yes, it's true. Directors often say, "It's just a film." But art and cinema are becoming increasingly important to everyone. In interviews, especially if the interviewer is young, they want me to talk a lot about politics. And many directors of my generation, like Paul Thomas Anderson, make films that are clearly political, and then, when you ask them about it, they say, "No, no, no, it's not about politics, I want to talk about other things." Because they're afraid of politics, and rightly so.

And you don't?

— I believe that talking about what it means to be human is political. I have two very simple rules: try to be honest and don't think about the consequences of what I say. The dilemma for many people of Arab origin is that we grew up with films in which we are portrayed as monsters simply for being Arab. I love cinema, so it broke my heart to see those films where I was always the bad guy. Luckily, there is now a new generation of filmmakers. And I think that more than talking about democracy or dictatorship, the political thing I can do is shift the center of the universe to Cairo. It's like saying: in this film, it doesn't matter what happens in Hollywood, New York, Stockholm, or Madrid. Cairo is the center of the universe; what matters is what happens here. I could make a film about a girl from Cairo who dreams of playing football and saves up to buy boots. But it would be a story that ties in perfectly with the idea that the dream lies elsewhere. What if she lived in Sweden or Madrid? She would be playing football now. No, that's why I'm making a film about the most privileged people in Egypt and their struggle to maintain their privileges. Because I think it's a more radical idea to put Cairo at the center of everything.

His creative origins are also radical: as a young man he was Sweden's most important graffiti artist and, in fact, is an author of one of the oldest surviving graffitiwhich is now a protected cultural heritage site in Sweden. How has his experience as a graffiti artist influenced his film work?

— It's had a huge impact on me. Even today, I still don't ask for permission; I prefer to apologize later. It's kind of the graffiti artist's motto. The way I envision any piece has a lot to do with how I used to do graffiti: I still look for a wall that's impossible to paint. And I plan it like a heist: what's the best time to do it, when you have the best light... The attitude is the same. Okay, we've been screwed out of Egypt. Can we go to Morocco? They won't let us in Morocco either. Who's angry with Al-Sisi right now? Erdogan? Okay, let's go to Turkey. We'll paint this wall. And, of course, I still think of myself as an artist painting a very large canvas with a very small brush. It's my style, I suppose. In my films, everything is on a grand scale, but the important thing is the details. I'm obsessed with details.

Fares Fares, the protagonist, is a sensational actor. He has worked on all three films of the trilogy and even on its animated debut. Metropia (2009), and in the film he shot in Hollywood, The contractor (2022). More than collaborators, they seem to be a team.

— Fares is, first and foremost, my best friend. It might sound like nepotism on my part, but I also think he's one of the best actors I've ever worked with. And he has a great ability to transform himself. When I write roles, I don't do it to fit Fares into the part. I have him in mind, yes, but at the end of the process, there's always a moment when I think, "Oh my God, he won't be able to do that." And especially in that film. When we did the first screen test, he was heavier and had a beard, and I told him, "No, impossible, don't look like a movie star." But he told me not to worry, that he would lose weight. I wasn't convinced at all, because he's not young anymore, but he lost 15 kilos. And when he shaved his beard and tried on the costumes, it was like witnessing a transformation. He's basically a character actor, but he also has the makings of a star. And what defines a star is that they can take on any role, because they can appear on screen doing nothing and still be interesting.