It’s Arab Idol!

The “American Idol” brand has spawned countless spin-offs in the USA as well as abroad. The Arab world too has embraced the singing-contest format, both with “Star Academy” (which also exists in France) as well as a full-on copycat of it’s American predecessor, entitled—you guessed it—Arab Idol.

The judges of Arab Idol, from wikeez.com

Arab Idol even visually resembles it’s American counterpart. The contestants sing on a round stage awash in blue lights, with an audience watching them as well as the panel of judges. There are three judges, older singer Ahlam (with the requisite collagen lip implants), a dashing older man (Ragheb Alama, a music producer) with wavy hair and Hassan El Shafei, younger man who appeared to be sporting a bit of a faux-mohawk. Unlike original American Idol Hosts Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul, the judges keep their commentary short and sweet—and sweet, it appears, indeed: they don’t appear to put-down the contestants with callous and crude words, which is a relief. (Note: this writer only ever saw a brief glimpse of American Idol; for some reason, I never got into it, but I know enough about the dramatic antics of the judges to know that they probably only said what they said for shock value).

After every commercial break, the affable host with the light brown hair, definite salon-tan and nice blue eyes reminded viewers to log onto facebook.com/arabidol to either cast their votes or for more information. Along the bottom of the screen was the rolling list of numbers to text for your favorite contestant: Asiacell (for Iraq); Orange (a network also used in France), Zain (popular in Bahrain, I believe), Etisalat (covers Egypt), Oman mobile and many others.

The contestants were varied, but entirely male! The show, which is relatively new, includes male and female competitors; I think they preform on different episodes.  They gave short performances, but to my ear, they sounded no different than the Arabic artists I listen to on my ipod; in other words, these were actual, genuine singers, not like the contestants on American Idol who were most likely selected for their personal lives and shock value than actual talent. (OK, so Carrie Underwood is an admittedly decent singer, and she has had great success; Kelly Clarkson, although I wouldn’t say has the most amazing voice, certainly had more feminist, thought-provoking songs; but don’t get me started on the other winners of the show). The Arab Idol contestants didn’t stand there on stage bawling, or crying because the opportunity “was just so amazing;” they accepted their critique with a smile, graciously, and it was on to the next one.

There was 30’s-age man named Mahmoud who wore an interestingly-patterned turban and robe who sung a traditional song; a young man named Youssef who also sang a very traditional song (although apparently with some background vocals, as when he stopped the song kept going) who was an apparent crowd favorite; a young Saudi or Gulf man (he wore a red-and-white checkered headscarf) who smiled lot but whose performance was a little dull (which the judges did appear to remark on); a cute boy named Hassan who was either from Tunisia or who sung a traditional Tunisian song (the audience was in love with him, and he lapped up the attention, blowing kisses) as well as  several others who attempted to rock the stage.

Arab Idol was interesting primarily because I’d never watched an Idol, but there was something sorely lacking: the drama of elimination! At the end of the show, all the contestants came on stage and their names were read, but I’m not sure if they eliminated anyone! What’s up with that? Do they only eliminate people on certain shows, or did they announce the name but didn’t make a big deal of it, so as to lessen the blow to the loser? Either way, it makes me feel as though us Americans are bloodthirsty for winners and losers!

S-L-M

Ma tigi Nor’os–An Egyptian-Style Dance Film

  There are more inspirational dancing films in Hollywood than you can shake a stick at. For one reason or another, the idea of a film where people use dancing to get through tough times is just one cliché that directors love to use over and over again. Don’t get me wrong—I love to dance, I just think that the films could be a little more original.

            Last night I watched another dancing film, only this time it was via the Egyptian Film backlots, not Hollywood. The film, Ma Tigi Norqos, was a sort of cross between J.Lo’s Shall We Dance? and Antonio Banderas’ Take the Lead (or any other dance film, for that matter): it centered around a dance studio full of your atypical dancer types who are prepping up for a big public performance in none other than the City Stars Mall in Heliopolis. You’ve got the meathead-but-oddly-charming hottie dance instructor (Tamer Hagras) who everyone swoons over; the outlandish and brass female dance instructor with what appears to be purple ribbons (or hair dye) streaking her hair; two lumpy and cluelessly-dressed oddballs who just want to get with her; an officer-worker who can dance surprisingly well and a bunch of young hijab-wearing girls who get “down and dirty” in the r&b sessions.

Actor Tamer Hagras

            The focus, however, is mostly on one older woman (actress Yousra) who looks not unlike some American mother. She wears glasses, arrives in her frumpy office clothes and is generally timid and clueless; however, she is not too timid, as even this non-Arabic speaker could figure out that she was bored with her life (and her inattentive, boring, strict husband) and had decided to take a leap and do something exciting. The catch is that neither her husband nor her teenage son know that she’s taking dance lessons, so she has to sneak around and hide, which eventually leads her husband to believe that she is having an affair.

Ma Tigi Norqos

            If the film had been American, would I have liked it, despite the typical dance cliché? I would say yes: there were many comedic moments (American dance films are usually so much more serious, with the pep talks and you-can-do-it! Speeches) such as the scene where the crazy dance instructor gets poked in the derriere with a pole (the klutzy lumpy guys are balancing them on their shoulders as they dance) and the front-desk lady gives her a block off ice to sit on. (What I wouldn’t give to have known what they were saying in this scene!) Although our protagonist argues with her husband, there is none of the stereotypical “down-and-out” scenes where you feel like all is going to go to pot. Even when he catches her tangoing in her office with her fellow co-worker she’s not, like, locked in a closet or something. And even when she lives out her fantasy of tangoing with Mr. Macho Muscles Dance Instructor in private, there’s no hard feelings afterward.

The protagonist (Yousra) with her dance instructor (Tamer Hagras)

            Because the film is Egyptian, you tend to view it’s American storyline in a different light. I personally found the protagonist riveting: here she is, this older lady, going behind her husband’s back to dance. To the over-protective, stuffy Egyptian male of today, having your wife dance—especially to an intimate dance like the tango—with another man would be an absolute no-no. It would be unthinkable. But here she is, dancing with a man probably only a few years older than her teenage son, laughing conspiratorially with her unlikely bedfellows over this and that. The music is modern, the dance sexy, and although she wears a modest billowy leggings-pantsuit for her public performance at the City Stars Mall, the characters and film would not be out of place in a more Westernized setting.

            Music, they say, is the international language. Other people say love is the international language; yet others say food or dance. I say, why not all four? No matter where you go, people are going to be eating, dancing, listening to music and, well, loving! No matter what country you find yourself in, the core of life will be the same; deep down, we all share the same aspirations and passions. If the abundance of dance films like Ma Tigy Naqros are any indication, let’s just dance through life together!

S-L-M

 Links:

http://www.rotana.net/movie/ma+tigi+nor%E2%80%99os+/605/detail

Hello, I Shall Seduce you with My General Womanliness

Books are not particularly sexy. A person’s eyes can be seductive, depending on the person. And wearing a headscarf and a bulky full-length coat? In general, not very sexy at all.

According to the Saudi  Commitee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice (also known as the morality police), women with attractive eyes might now be forced by law to cover them up. The ‘Virtue vs Vice

Even eyes are deemed too beautiful to be shown. Courtesy of allrashidmall.com

‘ committee (it appears that many Islamic countries have one of these) always makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time: cry, because they almost always are demeaning to women and the idea of such a committee is so against human rights; and laugh because, well, I cannot believe that these people are  permitted in the government when they clearly have issues.

Just when things seem to be looking ‘up’ for Saudi women (i.e. women were recently granted the right to vote in elections…in 2012) something as absurd as this happens to keep the freedom level in check. Hello, the barbaric men who go crazy at the sight of a woman’s eyes should be covered up (or, better yet, have their lusting hands handcuffed!), not the women. I’m guessing sunglasses might become a la mode if this ban takes place, but what I really want to know is:

Who’s going to be the Beauty Queen judges and decide what constitutes as a ‘seductive’ pair of eyes??

Next up on the banning block are books, or more specifically, Islamic Sex, a sort of “Sex manual” advocated by the Obedient Wives Club in Malaysia.  The Malaysian government wants to ban the book, which is odd when one considers that the book insists that wives be “subservient” and give in to their husbands  sexual needs.

Even still, the government ban on the book is not too surprising, given that sex is usually a touchy and private subject in Islam.   But the book is actually promoting a strict, stern way of thinking,and even though it’s line of thought is narrow-minded, it wouldn’t hurt the society to learn something about a topic that they often know little about.  What was most disturbing about this situation was the fact that the book was read by an organization called the Obedient Wives Club.

Who convinced these women to call themselves the ‘Obedient Wives Club’??

Scarves haven’t been banned in Iran, as they are part of the uniform women must wear when they leave the house, along with a manteau, or long coat. In Jafar Panahi’s 2000 film The Circle or Dawayeh (the same director of Offside)

A still of Nargess in her chador (from Dayereh). Courtesy of Iranian.com

follows several different women over the course of one day, highlighting the inequalities women face. Pari,a recently released convict, tries to enter a hospital to see an old friend. She is barred from entering unless she wears a chador, the traditional longblack cloack that Iranian women hold closed with their hands.  Never mind  that she already wears a scarf over her head and a long shapeless coat; apparently, that is deemed too sexy for any of the glum people visiting the hospital.

The women in The Circle  have officially been stripped of their physical sexiness, and society tries-as we see-to strip them of that other highly admirable quality: strength. A mother is stripped of her  child and pride when she decides to leave her daughter on the street. Nargess, another ex-convict, is stripped of her strength and power when she realizes she is too scared to board a bus for Azerbaijan. Physical or highly overt sexual objects-such as a woman’s hair, or a sex manual-are easily banned in Iran, but society just can’t resist desexualizing (and effectively dehumanizing) women further.

Towards the end of the film, we meet a woman moonlighting as a prostitute -her excuse? “Honey, will you pay the bills?”-who is caught when she enters a man’s car. Banned from the normal wiles that a prostitute would use to attract attention (heavy make-up; flashy, tight clothes) the woman is dressed like any other in Iran: in a head scarf and baggy attire. Yet her normal attire doesn’t stop a man from picking her up, nor does it stop the police from arresting her.  Even if she was wearing a burqa, the woman could still be picked up a prostitute. The scarf can’t be banned. So what’s next?

Are we going to star banning women? Because to a man, there isn’t a more sexual object than the mere presence of a woman, whether or not she  is baring her eyes, her skin, or is sexually knowledgeable!

S-L-M

Links:

1. “Saudi Women with Attractive Eyes Forced to Cover”: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2063143/Saudi-women-attractive-eyes-forced-cover-resolution-passed.html

2. “Malaysia to Ban ‘Obedient Wives Club’ Islamic Sex Book: http://bikyamasr.com/47242/malaysia-to-ban-obedient-wives-club-islamic-sex-book/

“Offside” is Right in the Center

A girl goes to watch a soccer match ( “football,” if you’re not American). She buys her ticket, finds her seat, and cheers on her team. She holds her breath as the team she supports nears a goal, she groans when the enemy team scores, and when it’s all over, she goes home.

This taken-for-granted act of women across the Western world is one that women in Iran would consider a luxury, or better yet, an impossibility. Even something as simple as a woman going to a football match is forbidden, and no, it’s not because the Iranian government doesn’t want it’s women to become a bunch of tomboys shirking their feminine duty. As the country-boy soldier Samandar says in Offside, it’s because the women will “hear curses that they shouldn’t listen to.” Well, that’s his take, anyways.

Films about the Middle East can be divided into two groups: those that are made just to tell a story, like any movie in Hollywood, and those that are meant (and usually created by a Western director, or a Middle Eastern director with a rebel bent) to show the world some aspect of Middle Eastern culture, which usually means displaying the abject poverty, hopelessness or infringement on civil rights that often exists in many of these countries. However, Jafar Panahi’s film Offside is quite refreshing in that he manages to take a dig at Iran’s ludicrous civil laws and sexism without making one feel miserable. The film tackles just one offshoot or facet of sexism in Iran-the fact that women are not allowed to go to a stadium to watch a sports match-and manages to cover it with humor and lightheartedness.

The film follows the “capture” of several girls who try to sneak into the stadium for Iran’s match against Iran that will qualify it to go to the World Cup games and are quickly caught, despite the fact that they are dressed as boys. Some of the girls are so well-dressed that even the soldiers remark: “Is it a she or he?”

The lovely “boys” listening to the final minutes of the match while en route to the Vice squad:

VERSUS

Their soldier captors (here, gleefully celebrating when Iran beats Bahrain).

The girls, who mock the Middle Eastern stereotype that all girls are docile, quiet and “girly,” are quite the characters and pretty brave (or crazy, if one is similarly football-obsessed) considering that their actions will eventually lead them to the Vice Squad, Iran’s version of the “morality police.” During most of the film they are kept in a pen right outside the stadium walls while waiting for the Army chief to arrive, thus teasing them as they can hear the crowd roar with delight or despair. There’s “Soldier Girl” who get’s to watch the game because she dresses in a rather-authentic military uniform; “Crybaby Girl”  who loses her uncle once they’re inside the stadium; “Chador-Girl”, who hides under the robe she brought when her friend’s father notices her; “Uppity Girl,” who looks very much like a boy and has quite the mouth; “SadGirl,” who tried to attend the game in testament  to her friend, and “Bathroom-Girl,” who stars in the film’s arguably most comedic moment when she demands to be taken to the bathroom. Seeing that she is still recognizable as a girl, the soldiers devise for her an ingenious mask out of a fan poster:

Barely able to see where she’s walking, she’s accompanied to the men’s bathroom(after all, only men’s facilities exist!) and an ensuing melee occurs as Tehrani boys try to enter the bathroom, not knowing that a girl is inside. She runs off while her captor is preoccupied, but eventually returns to the holding pen because she felt bad for the Samandar the country soldier and the cattle he grieves about.

The barbs traded between the girls and the soldiers are intensely funny, so one can only imagine how funny the film must be to a Farsi speaker. Sure, the girls are hitting at hard, cold, and silly truths–”So if I was born in Japan I could attend the match? I was born in the wrong country?”–but the actors are so great that the film is highly enjoyable

 What makes the film so natural and both funny and serious at the same time is that it is realistic. Sure, the characters spar fighting words at times, but the “debate” that goes on is a natural one; in “real life” (as opposed to Hollywood) this is how the scene would play out. The girls haven’t analyzed their points to perfection, complete with passionate speeches, and the boys aren’t stereotypically cruel and ignorant, nor are they stereo-typically charitable.

The final scene, one might say, is pure Hollywood, in that Iran wins the match and in the ensuing pandemonium on the street, the bus transporting the girls (and a firecracker-addicted male youth) stops and when the soldiers get out, the girls make a dash for it. One could almost say that it’s a cheesy perfect ending, except for one factor: apparently, the movie was actually filmed during a real-life match, which meant that the director had two outcomes in mind.

Docu-drama? “Real” fiction? However you want to peg Offside, one adjective should always be used: one-of-a-kind!

S-L-M

Links:

1. Offside on Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbc5Fgvc1ko