“The train is about to leave”

Something that is both a blessing and curse when looking at art produced by groups that are sorely under-represented in the media is that the canon from which we draw the most significant works is much smaller, so it’s easier to find the masterpieces without having to sift through an endless amount of work that sometimes distracts from the most simple pieces. However, it goes without saying that the predominance of western media has meant many great pieces of art are either trivialized to the point of being parodic, or they just simply don’t exist in the mainstream culture, at least not in the way we’d find those produced in Europe or North America, which tend to take up the majority of oxygen in such discussions. African cinema as a whole has been severely neglected, and while there are some wildly influential western figures who are using their reputation to draw attention to films produced on the continent (such as the incredible work Martin Scorsese has been doing for decades with his World Cinema Foundation), there is a long way to go. Egypt has the rare distinction of being a country that most of the world is aware of due to their ancient civilizations and iconography that has become indelible in history, but also being one that is rarely discussed outside of events that occurred outside of the antiquity, with roughly two millennia of complete apathy being asserted on this nation and its myriad of fascinating cultures. In terms of cinema, which is just as rarely-discussed when it comes to art produced in the country, the main title normally mentioned without fail is Youssef Chahine, and his masterful neo-realist drama, Cairo Station (Arabic: باب الحديد‎), which has become something of a touchstone for African cinema – not only because it is one of the finest works produced on the continent, but one of the few that has had crossover appeal, to the point where it stands as something quite significant. It is neither the best, nor the most important – but it certainly has earned its reputation, and this recent revisiting of Chahine’s film confirmed what a masterful expression of life it managed to be, despite the clear constraints experienced by the director in the creation of the film.

Neo-realism is often used as shorthand to refer to extremely simple, straightforward depictions of life, with the sheen of being a resonant glimpse into that particular culture at a specific temporal moment being one of the reasons it is so fully embraced. Despite being incredibly personal works by directors hoping to represent their own cultures through deeply moving depictions of life as they see it, those who tend towards being more enamoured with them seem to be audiences from outside that group – it could possibly be related to our near-voyeuristic fascination with other cultures, or at least a sense that we are always captivated by lives different from our own. Regardless, what makes Cairo Station such a poignant work comes in how Chahine, through an effortlessly simple story of a young man extracting revenge on a woman who he feels wronged him, managed to capture the spirit of Cairo through his own perspective. The vivid pace of the city is portrayed beautifully, thrown on screen with an authenticity that sometimes overshadows the actual narrative, which is compelling, but not nearly as memorable as the manner in which the director conveys the inner machinations of one of Africa’s most bustling metropoles. This period in the city’s existence is even more fascinating, since despite being one of the oldest continuously-habited cities in Africa, it still comes across as being one that is constantly in flux, millions of people scurrying through it on a daily basis, moving between appointments and events, and living their lives in a way that Chahine captures with a subversive edge, finding the humour in essentially a tragic story, and weaving together something that vaguely resembles a parable, the kind of story we hear about from some wise elder, speaking of the distant past – the difference being that Cairo Station is more contemporary than most stories we’re bound to find told about Egypt, but yet has the same sense of mystery and intrigue.

There are ultimately two different functions of the film. The first is the most obvious – this is a snapshot of Cairo at a particular moment in time, both of the city and its people, curated by an artist who had an undying devotion to his home. Chahine, by that point close to a dozen films under his belt, was fully-intent on exploring the Egyptian way of life through small, intimate stories, rather than bold, sweeping epics. He wasn’t all that interested in the past as much as he was in representing where the country was at that particular point. He would go on to direct a few historically-adjacent films (such as a biographical piece on Djamila Bouhired, the famed Algerian militant), but his intentions mostly veered towards descriptive portrayals of Egyptian culture, as well as a few glances in some selected countries and cultures from surrounding areas. This relates directly to the second function of the film, which was essentially crafted as something of a crime story, a film noir set in a train station. From the first moments, there is a sense of danger pervading the film, with the central tension coming to fruition almost instantly. This is the aspect that calls into question whether or not we can actually call this film a neo-realist work. The argument is that, since this is so reliant on the use of a narrative that could be considered vaguely sensational (since there are some moments of implausibility), the overall concept of this being purely descriptive is irrelevant. However, without even knowing much about the social milieu and the machinations of everyday life in Cairo at this point, its clear that Chahine is touching on something very personal, looking at the needless violence that goes almost entirely unpunished, since it is almost normal. By going in the opposite direction, and making the crime of the central character one that causes an enormous commotion, conveys a potent message to the state of the culture at that point, as well as how violence is represented. It’s a complex film, but one that goes in some fascinating directions, particularly in how it covers some of the more controversial subject matter that gives it such an edge.

The two strands of the narrative are held together by something referenced at the very start of this discussion – the concept of time. Throughout the film, nearly every major event is preceded by an exasperated cry of “the train is about to leave”. Chahine, who seems to have a penchant for portraying time as a discursive tool, rather than just an objective marker of progress (or lack thereof), establishes a framework that focuses on urgency and pulls together the many different ideas lurking beneath the film, turning it into something meaningful, without the need of heavy-handed emotions, or overwrought exposition, both of which are mercifully absent in this film, with the majority of what interests us coming in the form of what we see reflected directly on screen. We all know the pressure of those final few moments before a train, bus or plane is about to depart – if we’re on-board, such a notice can be a relief, but if we find ourselves on the other side of those doors, there is a certain tension, which Chahine beautifully harnesses. The stakes are already impossibly high for these characters, so the addition of an element of time only adds to the carefully-curated anxiety of this film, which gradually abandons the descriptive nature of the realist school it is sampling from, and instead goes in pursuit of something far more dramatic and profoundly meaningful in terms of conveying the darker side of the titular city. Films like Cairo Station tend to carry an abundance of meaning when it comes to such stories, but not for the specific plot details (which are fascinating, but are eventually rendered inconsequential in comparison to the more interesting aspects of the film), but rather the smallest, most unnoticable quirks that gradually envelope the entire film, and become the factors driving it forward.

Cairo Station may be one of the most notable films to be produced in Africa, but the specific qualities that gave it such a status are still up for debate. Perhaps its the very distinct vision of Cairo that the director evokes, which panders both to those interested in other cultures, as well as audiences who were growing acclimated to deeply realistic texts that dive deep into the experiences of those outside one’s own orbit. Another possibility is that this is a film with a clear structure – it takes its cue from a long line of character-driven crime films, and has all the qualities of a good film noir, such as an enigmatic, conflicted lead with questionable morals, a mysterious femme fatale, and a story that places both characters in a treacherous position, where their fates are intertwined, and danger is bound to transpire. This film is in a strange position – it’s a recognizable story set in a foreign land, and Chahine does very well with the material, gradually unravelling the layers of story to reveal a potent, heartwrenching story that begins beautifully, and ends with one of the most striking scenes of its era, a poignant reminder to the true complexities of the human condition that we may just never be able to fully comprehend. It’s an unforgettable film, and a wonderful portrayal of an African culture that isn’t built on cliché or expectations, but rather a highly-inventive ode to a city and its culture by an artist who always woven his own experiences into the fabric of his stories.