Sex and sexual relationships — homosexuality in particular — have long topped Egyptian cinema’s list of taboos. It’s little wonder, then, that directors usually choose to play it safe by taking a less direct approach to the issue. Director Salah Abou Seif used sex as a metaphor for social unmasking in his 1973 classic Hammam El-Malatily (The Malatily Bath), in which Youssef Shaaban delivered a memorable performance playing Raouf, a gay painter who tries to drag the protagonist, Ahmed (Mohamed El-Araby), into a sexual relationship.

Celebrated director Youssef Chahine has on more than one occasion thrown explicit homosexual references into his films. Usually, though, Chahine tends to reveal the homo- or bisexual nature of a certain character indirectly, leaving the viewer to look into the subtext for nuances. The same applies to Nouby, the character played by Zaki Fatin Abdel Wahab in Mercedes, directed by Youssry Nasrallah, one of Chahine’s protégés.

In Egyptian cinema, it was customary — and almost essential — that the prototype gay man fails to realize his goals; remember the rich old man reproaching Ahmed (Amr Waked) in Deil El-Samaka (Fish Tail - 2003)?

Although director Marwan Hamed largely adhered to this ‘safe’ approach in Omaret Yacoubian (The Yacoubian Building, 2006), the onscreen depiction of a homosexual relationship ignited a fair bit of controversy among conservatives.

Yacoubian presents, among many other characters and subplots, a sexual affair between the rich, educated, Egyptian-Francophone journalist Hatim Rasheed (played by Khaled El-Sawy), and Abd-Rabo (played by Bassem Samra), a poor, naive, illiterate soldier. The public reaction? Numerous voices from within the People’s Assembly and media outlets demanded the movie be yanked from theaters. Here’s what the actors had to say about their roles.

During the past 12 years, Bassem Samra has secured a position in the ranks of the nation’s leading art-house actors. His resume includes work under acclaimed directors Youssef Chahine, Youssry Nasrallah and Mohamed Khan. Samra also starred in several acclaimed shorts like Morabaa Dayer (Rotating Square, 2002) by Ahmed Hassouna and El-Naharda 30 November (Today is 30 November, 2004) by Mahmoud Soliman. For the latter, he clenched the Best Actor Award at the Third Tangier Film Festival in 2005. Samra has also made a handful of television appearances, the most important of which were in director Khairy Beshara’s Malh El-Ard (Salt of the Earth, 2005) starring Mohamed Sobhy and the soon-to-be-released Qalb Habiba (Habiba’s Heart) starring Soheir El-Bably.

His breakthrough in mainstream cinema only came recently when director Marwan Wahid Hamed’s cast him in the controversial role of Abd-Rabo.

I had graduated from the Faculty of Education and was working as an industrial drawing teacher when Youssef Chahine chose me to co-star in his short docudrama El-Qahira Menawara B’Ahlaha (Cairo As Seen by Chahine, 1991). Because the movie — like many other Chahine films — was co-financed by France backers, it was brutally criticized by the Egyptian media. Some went as far as claiming that it was out to publicize the negative aspects of the nation’s capital.

Chahine cast me because he needed a man with a purely native Egyptian face to play a guy looking for an apartment. I think the movie was poorly understood by critics back then, but it stood the test of time and to this day successfully tackles the problems we face currently like terrorism and unemployment.

Ashraf Talaat/Egypt Today A self-styled activist, El-Sawy says he looks for roles that go beyond stereotypes.

Working with Chahine overwhelmed me; I discovered my acting skills needed a lot of polishing and so decided to join the Higher Institute for Theatrical Art to study acting. I still, nevertheless, approach acting as an amateur.

I worked both jobs until Youssry Nasrallah cast me in Bab El-Shams (The Gate of the Sun, 2004); I had to go on unpaid leave for shooting abroad in Lebanon and Syria. This was my third consecutive collaboration with Nasrallah, to whom I was introduced at Chahine’s office.

Nasrallah first chose me to play the starring role in Sobyan we Banat (On Boys, Girls and the Veil, 1995). It was a pseudo-documentary where the camera followed me everywhere: in class as teacher, at home with my family, and outside with my friends. This cinematic experience had an extremely positive impact on my acting-reacting abilities in front of the camera. I’m surprised Egyptian television doesn’t show it at all — even though this film was screened across the globe and shown on foreign channels including Arte and Al-Jazeera.

[Note: Sobyan we Banat recorded several interviewees’ opinions on several topics including relationships between boys and girls and the veil.]

In El-Madina (The City, 1999), our third collaboration, we, Nasrallah and I, developed a mutual understanding that developed into a great relationship between actor and filmmaker. For the role of Ali — a young Egyptian who leaves for France with the dream of becoming a movie star — I had to take French lessons at the Cultural Center and work out vigorously to shape my body for the boxing scenes.

When I later worked with Mohamed Khan on his twentieth film Klephty (Thief, 2004), I got to meet real crooks that I spotted roaming around the cheap cafes of Downtown Cairo.

Yes, that’s true, but I followed a similar process in preparation for the role of the poor Upper Egyptian soldier Abd-Rabo in the film version of Omaret Yacoubian. I had to practice talking with a Sa’eedi accent and study the physical aspects of my character.

Before shooting, Marwan Waheed Hamed asked me to go home, get a pen and paper and write down — completely from my own imagination — a childhood history for Abd-Rabo. We then held extensive rehearsals with the rest of the cast. Even though this was Marwan’s first feature-length film, I didn’t notice a gap between his ability as a director and that of the more experienced counterparts with whom I started off my acting career. He was always focused and well prepared.

Not at all.

I had already read the novel [Omaret Yacoubian] a number of times when it was first published. I was astounded by its content and came to appreciate the writings of Alaa El-Aswany. My dream was to play the role of Taha El-Shazly — the promising young man who becomes the victim of both terrorism and physical abuse. When I met Marwan, I thought that my dream was about to come true.

Instead, he surprised me by telling me that he wanted me to play Abd-Rabo. When I asked him about the role of Taha El-Shazly, he told that it would go to another newcomer.

When I started studying my character, I fell in love with Abd-Rabo more than I had with Taha before. I viewed him as this illiterate enlisted soldier who feels lost in the large city of Cairo. I also imagined that if the naive Abd-Rabo hadn’t met the sophisticated journalist Hatim Rasheed (Khaled El-Sawy) — who lured him into this relationship — he would’ve probably fallen victim to another kind of deception.

For instance, his kidney could’ve been ripped out and stolen in a corrupt hospital, or he could’ve easily died from hunger.

[Smiling] I think it’s entirely appropriate that they spend time voting to ban a film. They have ample time on their hands, having solved all our major problems such as ferries sinking, trains colliding and unemployment.

On the other hand, some audiences were sympathetic to Abd-Rabo, especially when his newborn son died. Others laughed or pretended to laugh because they were embarrassed with their wives or daughters sitting next to them. Whatever the reaction was, the most important thing is that the audiences reacted.

I am now shooting Ana Mesh Ma’ahom (I’m Not with Them) — it’s a comedy directed by Ahmed El-Badry and starring Ahmed Eid and Boshra. I play the sheikh of an Islamic group in this movie. I will shoot another short film with director Mahmoud Soliman.

Khaled El-Sawy is a rarity amid his generation of actors. He has been a firm believer in art and freedom of expression since his days as law student. This led to his revolt against extremists who he says tried to prevent him from acting in — and directing — his own plays.

El-Sawy later joined the Higher Institute of Cinematic Studies alongside Ahmed El-Sakka, Mohamed Heneidy and Khaled Saleh.

In 1989, he established his own theatrical group, which he dubbed El-Haraka (The Movement), through which he starred in, wrote and directed several sociopolitical plays. One such play is El-Leab Fel-Demagh (Playing in Your Head), an acclaimed satire on foreign media manipulation, which ran for four consecutive months at the Cairo Opera House’s Hanager Theater.

El-Sawy’s activism stems from his belief that it is an actor’s duty to present (directly or indirectly) a political message through his work.

Well, it is indeed important for me to have a hotline, or a link of any form, between the people and me — especially those I don’t know at all. I am always among the masses, whether at public conferences, street demonstrations or internet discussions.

No, I am sorry to say. But allow me to differentiate between three aspects of my life.

First, I am a professional actor. My technique involves getting under the skin and reaching for the human psyche. This is how I make a living. My main problem was that I became a typecast. I was constantly being offered the role of a police officer, a villain or an older man. Sometimes I was offered a combination of some of those three elements; a bad cop, an old villain, etc.

Second, I am an experimental writer and a director. Through my plays, I find it easy to present my political and social views regarding our country and the rest of the world. The most important thing is that I never play a role that contradicts my beliefs.

Lastly, I am an activist; I write for a magazine called Awraq Ishtirakiyyah (Socialist Papers), I am a member of the Socialist Studies Center and several other movements including Fananoun Men Agl El-Taghyeer (Artists for Change). I therefore have a direct means for channeling my concerns.

I always try to deliver my characters as realistically as possible; I try to give it more depth. I don’t want to be stereotypical.

Of course, I succeeded in breaking free from the ‘acting template’ in which I was trapped through the character of Hatim Rasheed; the educated, homosexual journalist is completely different from your typical macho types.

After the film’s opening, I received numerous screenplays maybe even more than I had ever received throughout my entire career. But the roles all revolved around that same template, and that’s why I declined most of those that I was offered.

It’s a combination of those two factors. Look at it in reverse: You will note that an actor delivers a good performance when offered a good role and works with a good director with good production values. A good script is a script that tackles new ideas — this needs an adventurous producer. All of these elements existed in Yacoubian.

When several stars declined to play the role of Hatim Rasheed, the director and the producer were brave enough to cast me because the film had equal balance in the form of heavyweight star presence like Adel Imam and Nour El-Sherif.

Not for a second. It was a chance for me to tap into my unused acting potential. I think I succeeded in achieving this because the common reaction of audiences was shock from seeing such a character onscreen. My approach to playing Hatim Rasheed was to become like a transparent piece of paper to personify him onscreen.

Another important thing is that the audience easily differentiated between Hatim Rasheed and Khaled El-Sawy. A few of them confused the two, though: I met a large number of people afterwards, in film theaters, on the street, in a demonstration about the war in Lebanon, and also via e-mail and telephone. Most of them liked my performance, but there are few who really disliked the role.

I remember during a recent radio interview, one listener said to me: “If I ever see you, I’ll beat you up!”

But the bottom line is: I noticed a great deal of tolerance that didn’t exist 30 years ago as regards the acting profession. For instance, when Youssef Shaaban played the homosexual sketch artist in Hammam El-Malatily, that wasn’t tolerated half as much. This means the audience has matured.

On the other hand, there are a few retarded, narrow-minded media people who occupy culturally significant positions. For instance, one journalist posed this question: “How could Khaled El-Sawy, who once played the role of President Gamal Abdel Nasser, agree to play the role of a homosexual journalist?”

When creating a character, my first reference is psychology. The reasons behind being homosexual vary. Some scientists say it is biological, others claim it’s psychobiological. My interpretation is that it’s the culmination of many different dynamics. In Hatim Rasheed’s case, I felt that it had to do with his traumatic childhood. If he was the main character in that movie, we could’ve dug deeper inside his character.

I hope people who follow my work understand that sometimes I feel obliged to accept certain roles if only to make a living. I can’t sit at home waiting for the best role to come knocking at my door.

Anyway, I am currently completing two TV serials. The first is called Nour El-Sabah (Morning Light) and stars Layla Elwy. I play an Egyptian businessman living in the Netherlands who faces many challenges for being an Arab post-9/11. The second is called Man Qatal Hind Allam? (Who Killed Hind Allam?) and stars Nadia El-Guindy. In this serial, I play a modern but corrupt omda who uses his influence to smuggle Ancient Egyptian artifacts. et