His striking looks, soft-spoken voice and pencil-thin moustache led some critics to compare him to American legend Clark Gable. The comparison, valid it may be on the surface, is quite unfair, because El-Shenawy was more eclectic and unpredictable than the “Gone with the Wind” star ever was.
For one generation, he was one of Egyptian cinema’s most formidable leading men; a heartthrob who dominated the box-office for more than a decade. For another, he was the wily lip-licking villain of some of the greatest Egyptian political dramas. For cineastes and audiences alike, he was one of the most beloved Egyptian actors.
El-Shenawy died on August 22 at dawn. His funeral was held at the Mostafa Mahmoud mosque at noon. He was 89.
Born on December 26, 1922 in Mansoura, Mohamed Kamal El-Shenawy developed a love for music and fine arts at an early age. He graduated from Helwan University’s Faculty of Art Education and subsequently enrolled in the Academy of Arabic Music. Prior to graduation, he tried his luck with theater via a number of small productions that did not transpire. His strong stage presence at auditions, however, attracted the attention of several directors and theater stars.
El-Shenawy worked as an art teacher for a brief period before he was discovered by director Niyazi Moustafa who gave him his first starring role in the wartime drama “Ghani Harb” (War Profiteer) alongside screen giants Farid Shawky, Laila Fawzy and Bishara Wakim in 1947.
The following year, director/producer Helmy Rafla signed him up for three films: “Adalet El-Samaa” (Heaven’s Justice), directed by Ahmed Kamel Morsi; as well as “Hamamet El-Salam” (Dove of Peace) and “El-Rooh wel Gasad” (Body and Soul), both directed by Rafla. The same year, he landed a supporting role in Henry Barakat’s “El-E’kab” (The Punishment) alongside screen legend Faten Hamama and Mahmoud El-Meligy.
In a span of three years, El-Shenawy became a bankable star, coveted by the biggest directors in the country. The year 1950 proved to be the most pivotal year in El-Shenawy’s early career, during which he starred in 15 films including “Sa’a li Albak” (An Hour for Your Heart) and “Zalamoony El-Nas” with the grand master of melodrama Hassan Al-Imam; “Baba Amin” with Youssef Chaine and, biggest of all, “Amir Al-Intkam” (Prince of Vengeance), an adaptation of Alexander Dumas’ “The Count of Monte Cristo,” co-starring Anwar Wagdy and Samia Gamal and directed by Barakat.
“Prince of Vengeance” aside, one his early flirtations with villainous characters, El-Shenawy adopted a distinct personality that stayed with him during the first decade of his career: The earnest, diligent young working men who always defied class differences to get the woman, a character that drew legions of female admirers.
This screen persona was perfectly partnered with Shadia’s sparkling, sincere lovers in more than 30 films, the most successful of which were Youssef Ma’louf’s comedies “Fel Hawa Sawa” (Together in Love) in 1951 and “El-Hawa Maloosh Dawa” (Love Has No Cure) in 1952.
The stimulated seriousness characterizing El-Shenawy’s early performances was diffused by comedy legend Ismail Yassin, who played second fiddle to him in a series of hits that include the aforementioned “Together in Love,” “El-Hamawat El-Fatenat” (Glamorous Mothers-In-Law) by Helmy Rafla and “Nashala Hanem” (The Pickpocket Lady) by Hassan El-Seefy, both in 1953.
His comedic chops were further honed and displayed in later works such as El-Sayed Bedeer’s 1960 classic farce “Sokr Hanem” (Lady Sokr) alongside Samia Gamal (another frequent collaborator) and Abdel-Moniem Ibrahim.
In the mid-50s, El-Shenawy gradually broke away from his romantic roles, beginning with a supporting role in “El-Ghareeb” (The Stranger, 1956), Kamal El-Shiekh and Fateen Abdel Wahab’s adaptation of Emily Brontë’s “Wuthering Heights” starring Yehia Shahin and Magda.
His first celebrated villainous role came in 1959 as the wife-beating, blackmailing thug Abbas in Mahmoud Zulfikar’s “Al-Mara’ Al-Maghoola” (The Unknown Woman) co-starring Shadia and Emad Hamdy.
“The Unknown Woman” would prove to be a major turning point in his career, distorting the whole image he unwillingly safeguarded in the early days and preparing the audience to accept him in challenging, more complex roles.
Unlike the morally strict Shokri Sarhan or the honest, dreamy Emad Hamdy, there was a whiff of danger in El-Shenawy’s dashing characters; a strange titillation induced by unknown lurking evil. His charming womanizers of the 60s and 70s often concealed insecurities, repressed emotions and a distorted worldview.
El-Shenawy found ideal vehicles for his anti-heroes in a trio of films that rank among his greatest works: “El-Les wel Kelab” (The Thief and the Dogs, 1962) and “Al-Ragol Allazi Fakd Zelo” (The Man Who Lost his Shadow, 1968), both great suspense films by director Kamal El-Sheikh, as well as Ali Badrakhan’s “El-Karnak” in 1975.
In “The Thief,” based on Naguib Mahfouz’s classic novel of the same name, he played the opportunistic journalist Ra’ouf Elwan, a Judas-like figure who betrays Shokri Sarhan’s redemption-seeking lowlife criminal. He played another opportunistic, social-climbing journalist in “The Man Who Lost his Shadow,” a brazen critique of corrupted post-67 defeat Egypt based on a Fathy Ghanem novel.
No other film succeeded in fully capitalizing on El-Shenawy’s talents like “El-Karnak,” Badrakhan’s harrowing adaptation of Naguib Mahfouz’s 1971 novel about Nasser’s secret police state. In one of the greatest screen performances in Egyptian film history, El-Shenawy played Khaled Safwan, the sadistic, smooth-talking Head of Egyptian Intelligence who forces Souad Hosny and Nour El-Sherif’s idealistic students to spy on their peers.
Brimming with seductive charisma, Khaled Safwan was unlike any other hero Egyptian cinema had ever witnessed; a cruel, conniving well-groomed fascist who believed he was doing the right thing. The most terrifying aspect of Safwan was not his brutal methods but the firm conviction behind his actions.
In the 80s and 90s, El-Shenawy alternated between commercial fares (“Samia Shaarawy’s File,” “Shawader,” “El Gabalawy”), auteur-driven passion projects (Khariy Bishara’s “Cabin 70”) and TV serials (the highly celebrated 1984 comic drama “Hind and Dr. Nomaan,” penned by Lenin El-Ramly).
His last memorable film performance was in Sherif Arafa’s 1992 blockbuster political satire “El-Erhab wel Kabab” (Terrorism and Kabab), where he played a minister of interior dealing with the accidental hijacking of Mugamma El-Tahrir.
With more than 250 films under his belt, El-Shenawy left us with an enduring legacy that will live long after his death. His captivating screen presence, chameleon-like diversity and unquestionable talent remain unique in the long, rich history of Egyptian cinema.
El-Shenawy embodied the essence of a true star; a truly gifted performer who never refrained from taking risks.
