Cairo Time

Cairo Time, written and directed by Syrian-Canadian filmmaker Ruba Nadda, is an elegant and touching film that deftly explores a brief and exquisite cross-cultural romance. It is beautifully shot, capturing the colors, the architecture and the people of Cairo through the eyes and experiences of an American woman who finds herself unexpectedly alone in a city she has never been to. Patricia Clarkson plays Juliette, a writer for a stylish fashion magazine who discovers upon arrival that her husband is stuck in Gaza fulfilling the duties of his position at the United Nations. Instead, she is met at the airport by Tareq, played by Alexander Siddig, who once worked for her husband and now runs a coffee cafe in downtown Cairo. Frustrated by her husband’s absence and unwilling to remain in her hotel room, Juliette explores the city and finds herself gradually becoming infatuated with its culture and people.

Clarkson’s characterization of the inexperienced American is subtle and believable. She is surprisingly vulnerable yet determined to experience this ancient world first hand. The first time she leaves her hotel she finds herself in continuous contact with men who become increasingly brazen - brushing up to her, whispering in her ear, finally surrounding her like wolves on the scent of a wounded deer. Though ruffled, Juliette is not one to be intimidated. When she first enters Tareq’s coffee shop, an all-male establishment, the men stare at her in disbelief. By the time she returns later in the film she ends up beating Tereq in a game of chess - surrounded by a large crowd of amused and delighted male patrons.

Cairo Time is Juliette’s story—she is in almost every moment of the film and we see and begin to understand Cairo through her eyes and actions. In a beautifully shot sequence of dry sandy landscapes and parched wind-carved hills she goes to the White Desert with a young woman. The beautiful woman tells of her own separation with a husband who worked for the United Nations—and of a torrid affair with a Syrian man. Later, tired of waiting for her husband to arrive Juliette boards a bus to Gaza and befriends a young Arab woman who forces a letter on her when they are stopped at an Israeli checkpoint. Later, with Tareq, she visits a shop where very young girls work all day making rugs instead of going to school. She is disturbed by this and surprised that Tareq’s point of view on the mysterious letter and the children in the rug shop is quite different from her own.

Cairo Time is a romantic story that circles around the almost instantaneous connection between Juliette and Tereq. The relationship is a triumph of subtle and seductive acting by Clarkson and Seddig. The words they speak are well crafted and often funny—Juliette looks at Tareq’s traditional robe and tells him “nice dress”, he skims through the slick magazine she writes for and wonders where among the fashion stories the article she proposed about homeless children in Cairo would fit. But it is in the directing and acting that the characters really come alive - the silent glances, the empty spaces, the simple gestures. The film is filled with visual moments of almost transcendent grace—Tereq placing his hand on the small of Juliette’s back as they walk to a wedding party, the pleasure on Juliette’s face as she watches the bride and groom dancing ecstatically to the beat of a traditional Arabic drum, the expectant and sensual moments when they silently look into each other’s eyes—as though words were inadequate to express their feelings.

Nadda is a gifted director who has made a gentle, engaging and sexy film on a small budget under difficult shooting conditions. The cinematography by Luc Montpellier (The Saddest Music in the World) is lush and colorful—showing the many faces of Cairo from the relics of the desert pyramids to the rushing and crowded streets of the business districts. The use of color and lighting is rich, full of contrast and quite beautiful. The production design (Tamara Conboy) and costume design (Brenda Broer) are consistent with the subtle and emotionally potent story. The dark wood-paneled hotel lobby where the characters meet is appropriately warm and hospitable. Juliette’s wardrobe has a wonderful palette of colors—rich but not too bold—that brighten as she becomes more comfortable with Tereq and her life in Cairo. She arrives in a denim shirt, wears a white blouse when she first steps into Cairo, then wears a sunny yellow dress as she begins to explore with Tereq, and a turquoise gown when they travel via train to the wedding party. After commenting on the bright blue hijab worn by the maid in her hotel room we see her put on an identical colorful headscarf when she enters a traditional mosque. The soundtrack is wonderfully integrated into the film, moving between Egyptian popular music (as Juliette becomes more acclimated to Cairo she is able to identify the particularly beautiful voice of a female singer) and a stark and romantic piano theme by composer Niall Byrne.

Cairo Time has the feel of classic Hollywood stories—focusing on the uniqueness of character rather than action and sexual explicitness. But the cross-cultural aspect is very modern—we see a Cairo that feels quite real through the eyes of an American who wants to open herself up to geographical and emotional discovery. The experience leads to happiness and heartache—for herself and for the audience. It’s a journey well worth taking.

                                    Thomas W. Campbell