Halfway through watching Tamara Jenkins’s little-seen small gem “The Savages , I experienced a quasi-epiphany.
As I waited in anticipation for the next volatile confrontation between the two siblings, played with impeccable sensitivity and command by Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman, I suddenly realized how great films could rationalize the existence of man; how accomplished filmmakers could take the most mundane of lives and turn them into compelling stories.
“The Savages was the perfect antidote to last week’s major Egyptian release “Cabaret , a film with palpable ambition and considerable potential spoiled completely by one smug, infuriating ending I still can’t shake off.
“Cabaret , as the title implies, follows a group of characters all connected via a thriving nightclub located on Haram Street where several life-changing events unfold in one night. The nightclub serves as a backdrop to explore these diverse, disentangled individuals that ultimately feel more like standard archetypes than fleshed out, three dimensional characters.
Salah Abdallah is the overbearing, hard-hearted manager of the nightclub. A self-righteous man, he operates his business with an iron fist, permitting and encouraging all sorts of illegal activities while preparing for the umrah (the smaller pilgrimage to Mecca).
His brother, Maged El-Kidwany, is an alcoholic hobbler and a former gambler who’s been confined to the nightclub’s bathroom after selling his share in the establishment to his brother.
Mohammed Lotfy is Abdallah’s burly bodyguard who happens to be a former army vet. Lotfy lost his voice in combat and was forced to occupy his current position when the army failed to provide him with an appropriate pension or recognize his achievements.
Jumana Mourad plays Lotfy’s girlfriend, a dancer/groupie with an ailing mother who is unaware of the nature of her daughter’s profession. Mourad takes Donia Samir Ghanem under her wing. Ghanem plays a young woman who runs away from home after her step-father repeatedly tried to sexually abuse her. The unapologetic Ghanem finds the nightclub an unwelcoming shelter after her boyfriend, and three of his chums, rape her on separate occasions.
Khaled El-Sawy is the nightclub’s former star performer. El-Sawy plays an untalented, washed-out folk singer who sports a tacky wig and covers himself with bling. His estranged wife refuses a reconciliation while his faltering career is kept afloat thanks to a rich, lustful, middle-aged Iraqi businesswoman (Hala Fakher) who, as a matter of fact, never set foot in Iraq.
Edward plays El-Sawy’s unconfident former servant and protégé. He finds it increasingly difficult to avoid his former boss’ humiliating remarks and tries to upstage El-Sawy in his first solo performance at the club.
Meanwhile, a suicide bomber, played by Fathy Abdel Wahab, prepares to blow himself up inside the club. Abdel Wahab has a change of heart after a naïve conversation with the cabaret’s pious bartender (Ahmed Bedir), which instantly persuades the latter to quit his job and look for work elsewhere.
Large ensemble drama is one of the most difficult genres to manage.
Edmund Goulding’s 1932 “Grand Hotel starring Greta Garbo, Joan Crawford and John Barrymore was arguably the most prominent example of the genre, setting a template for similar productions.
Hollywood studios primarily used this formula to showcase its stars rather than create a rich dramatic structure. Great maverick Robert Altman reinvented the genre with his masterpieces “Nashville , “A Wedding and “Short Cuts .
In fact, it’s difficult to write about ensemble dramas without mentioning Altman, a fact fostered by his heir Paul Thomas Anderson, whose earlier well-known works (“Boogie Night , “Magnolia ) were entirely founded on Altman’s films.
“Cabaret owes more to Anderson’s works than Altman’s with its cinematic trickery, fast, vivacious shots and flashy visuals. Truth be told, the film looks striking and quite distinctive. Director Sameh Abdel Aziz’s undeniable visual flair renders the Sobky-produced film the best offering released by a company known for pure crass like “El Limby , “Alaya El Tarb Bel Talata and “Haha we Tofaha .
Abdel Aziz’s biggest asset is the basic setting of his film. Despite relentless efforts to make this world less appealing, the cabaret emerges as a fascinating, secluded universe replete with backstabbing, corruption, failed dreams and disappointments. The cabaret world is a fertile ground for endless dramatic possibilities Abdel Aziz doesn’t even dare to approach.Abdel Aziz’s unsuccessful vision starts with his one-dimensional characters.
Few of the two dozen characters populating the film succeed in breaking the conventions or behaving in an unpredictable manner.
The myriad storylines are weaved into a weak contextual entity, unsure of which route to take on their predestined journey. Some characters, including a newlywed groom who spends the duration of the film gulping drugs from friendly strangers, are forced and serve no purpose to the context of the story. Hardly any of the characters are developed beyond the formulaic models in which they are trapped.
It doesn’t help much when the majority of the actors spend the larger part of the film shouting and ranting for no clear reason. The few who refrain from joining this tirade deliver some of the best acting of their careers.
Topping the bill is Ahmed Bedir who provides the most subtle, mature performance of the film. Edward, in his first major non-comedic role, surprisingly injects his rather ordinary character with depth, fear and sorrow.
Donia’s few silent moments are truly remarkable but, unfortunately, are overshadowed by her annoying accent and the inconsequential dialogue scriptwriter Ahmed Abdallah forces onto her tongue.
Maged El-Kidwany is the real discovery of the film. Like Edward, El-Kidwany drops his comedic persona for a tortured, self-destructive character who virtually lost everything and is thrown on the sidelines by his brother. The steep dramatic arcs of El-Kidwany’s character show an actor with a vast range unexplored in his largely forgettable previous performances.
“Cabaret’s ending is its real Achilles’ heel. Third act problems rarely sabotage good films. The third act of Charlie Kaufman’s first films “Being John Malkovich, “Adaptation and “Confession of a Dangerous Mind didn’t live up to the brilliance of the first two parts of his stories. Yet these misgivings, despite their gravity, didn’t diminish the total value of his films.
That’s not the case with “Cabaret, a film entirely defined by its ending.
“Cabaret initially looks like a cluster of little fragmented anecdotes of marginalized figures that swiftly turns into one revolting cautionary tale akin to the biblical parable of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Great filmmakers abstain from judging their characters. Abdel Aziz does not, condemning each and every one of them and, unlike the audience, refuses to sympathize with their plight. “Cabaret is one of those rare films that hates its characters, championing a superior, conceited and callous moral code that betrays the viewers’ intelligence and sensibilities.
I’m not sure why I was so exasperated by the ending. Perhaps because I refuse to believe that life is so black and white, that God is so merciless, unforgiving and obvious. The bombastic clear-cut message of the film leaves no room for contemplation, and does not allow viewers to make their own judgment. Instead, the long-lasting impression the film leaves is of an unfounded hullabaloo whining about the “moral decline of an awfully conservative society. A cabaret, I’m sorry to report, Egypt is not.
