It’s probably news to the mainstream that queer Arab cinema exists, though it remains underground at home and ghettoized abroad. When gay characters are treated in popular Arab cinema, they’re almost always negative stereotypes, and when such roles are included in Western media, they’re invariably made oppressed victims, figures for a pitying Occidental gaze. Experimental films have long been a safer queer space, but often they can feel inaccessible (both as physical object and intellectual exercise), more tied to the tropes of avant-garde cinema than a shared gay identity. With a smiling subversiveness Mohammad Shawky Hassan’s Shall I Compare You to a Summer’s Day? rectifies the imbalance with a delightfully humorous and equally touching sex-positive experimental short feature that’s inventive without being distancing, mining popular Arabic songs and other cultural signifiers to weave together an empowering sexy reverie on queer Arab lives. It’s about time.
While the film is listed as an Egyptian-Lebanese-German coproduction, that’s a reflection of the filmmakers’ origins rather than the base of the production companies, which are German registered and unsurprisingly all shooting was done in Berlin. Yet labelling Shall I Compare You as a German film would be like calling James Joyce’s Ulysses a French novel because it was published in Paris, or Shelley’s Prometheus an Italian poem because it was written in Rome: Shawky Hassan’s work is Egyptian down to its DNA, self-consciously using pop and classical culture from the region to bring Arab viewers in and reproducing common queer experiences through a distinctly Egyptian lens. The right kind of representation is indeed liberation, which is why Shall I Compare You is such a bold and much-needed work; although internationally the film will be relegated to edgy queer fests and showcases, within the region it will benefit from private underground networks and friend-sharing, where its impact will be significantly more meaningful.
A reinterpretation of One Thousand and One Nights serves as the framework, with its own Shahrazad (Donia Massoud) weaving together tales told in a kind of sing-song chipper voice that connects to a childish innocence while also rousing a certain postmodern wryness. Filmed against green screens that allow for a joyous color palette, the central narrative of three lovers and the tensions of polyamorous relationships is interlaced with homoeroticized traditional fantasies (like mermen), dialogues about flirtatious encounters, and a cappella renditions of classic and popular Egyptian and Lebanese songs. Animation, drag performers, stereotyped porn scenarios (photographer and model, mechanic and client) and a moving monologue to a dead lover are entwined in a manner that speaks to the fulness of queer Arab communities. The film celebrates sexuality by making it both familiar and sexy, whether through physical encounters or a dialogue about the sparks generated by a casual meeting at a party.
In some ways what’s so remarkable here is just how unremarkable these themes are: the couplings and uncouplings, descriptions of parties, the self-analysis and emotional vulnerability, all in a queer setting, feel very recognizable to globalized gay communities. What Shawky Hassan does is present it through a queer Egyptian gaze, normalizing a world that’s very “normal” to those inside but is so rarely seen as such by those outside. There’s no sense of oppression, no exoticization or imposed neocolonialist savior complex, nor is it imitative of Western modes. The central story, of a guy (Ahmed El Gendy) whose preference for polyamorous relationships creates tensions with his two lovers, is universal but made region-specific by language, song and cultural markers, ensuring a recognizable form of representation that’s more than refreshing, it’s revolutionary.
That’s not to say that How Shall I Compare You is using themes and forms in an entirely new way. Tradition-based Arabic storytelling has been fruitfully repurposed in recent fiction, from Alia Yunis’ Scheherazade in The Night Counter to Rabih Alameddine’s gay-themed The Hakawati, yet Shawky Hassan’s capsuled stories, occasionally presented by his own version of Shahrazad, playfully reimagine visual form as well as content. “I wonder why we keep telling stories we already know,” asks one of the characters, but the answer is simple: they connect us to others and to ourselves, giving expression to emotions not easily compressed into unadorned statements. The artistry and originality come in how those stories are told and how they’re reclaimed. Tableaux of three nude men recreating ancient classical imagery is however more derivative (or simply too common), and why change Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18, used as the English-language title, from “thee” to “you” – has “thee” become too intimidating?
Visual influences spring from Arab pop and queer culture, given free reign thanks to a significant use of green screens that allow for a potpourri of playful backgrounds, some inspired by a late 1980s Ramadan TV series for kids based on One Thousand and One Nights. Much of the music, sung a cappella by the cast, will be very familiar to Arab audiences, with songs made famous by Egyptian and Lebanese singers including Najat Al-Saghira, Angham, Nancy Ajram and Elissa. The film’s Arabic title, which translates to “Sometimes, I Miss You,” comes from a song by Moroccan singer Samira Said.
Director, screenplay: Mohammad Shawky Hassan
Cast: Donia Massoud, Ahmed El Gendy, Salim Mrad, Nadim Bahsoun, Hassan Dib/Queen of Virginity, Ahmed Awadalla, Richard Gabriel Gersch
Producers: Mohammad Shawky Hassan, Hesham Marold, Carlos Vasquez
Co-producer: Maxi Haslberger
Cinematography: Carlos Vasquez
Production design: Veronica Wüst
Costume design: Frau Terter
Editing: Carine Doumit
Music: Amen Feizabadi
Sound: Kinda Hassan, Tsvetelina Valkova
Animation: Francis Blake
Production companies: Aflam Wardeshan (Germany), AmerikaFilm (Germany) in partnership with Compote Ananas
Venue: Berlinale (Forum)
In Arabic, English
66 Minutes
