There is only one subject that the film industry loves above all others: itself. There is seemingly nothing that energises a filmmaker more than telling a story set within the world of cinema, and whether through deep reverence or merciless lampooning (or some combination of them both), there is something about the metafictional nature of films about filmmaking that are quite appealing, if not outright compelling. Tarik Saleh adds his name to an extensive list of directors who have chosen this as the topic of their films, which in this case comes in the form of Eagles of the Republic, in which he tells the story of George Fahmy, widely considered Egypt’s greatest living actor, earning the title “Pharoah of the Screen”, a nickname he carries with pride. However, when he is approached by a mysterious group of people who seem to take an interest in his work, he immediately begins to question their motives – and it isn’t long before they reveal their plans: they intend to force George to star as the president in a propaganda film that they are making, and despite bearing no physical resemblance nor any discernible characteristics that make him a good fit for the role, George is coerced (under threat of both his safety and that of his family) to oblige, leading to a series of incidents that prove that there is much more to this plan than he initially believed. A fascinating film that concludes the director’s Cairo Trilogy (a set of films that stand independently of one another, but do share some thematic and conceptual similarities), Eagles of the Republic is quite a bold film, an off-kilter blend of darkly comedic satire and hopelessly nihilistic political thriller, it explores many themes relating to not only cinema, but politics, social unrest and the psychological strain it takes to exist in a world where there seems to be danger lurking around every corner. It’s a wonderfully offbeat film with a strong sense of humour and a sincere willingness to comment critically on issues it sees as worth discussing – and even at its most pedestrian, it manages to be extremely effective, even if it can sometimes not push the boundaries as far as they can go, which is not a major flaw, but still a slight impediment to an otherwise terrific film.

Art is often dismissed as being purely a distraction, a means to step outside of a reality for a few moments and just be engrossed in another world. This is true to an extent, and certainly is an appropriate description for a lot of art as a whole. However, we do tend to overlook the fact that it can also be a powerful cultural tool, and one that has been shown to be quite effective when used properly. Eagles of the Republic is certainly one of the cases where a simple story flourishes into something truly compelling solely through how it perceives art as more than just a vessel for creativity, but also as a channel for some of society’s most peculiar qualities. Propaganda as a subject has not been explored as extensively as one would imagine, since despite being one of the most fascinating topics and one that is not only compelling in terms of exploring historical scenarios, but also extremely timely, and the more we engage with works that discuss how it was used, the more likely we are to recognise it, something that has never felt more relevant than it does today. Two genres that seemingly never go out of style (at least in terms of becoming irrelevant), are satire and propaganda, since even once they have moved past their core audience, they remain intriguing as historical artefacts, remnants of the past that can tell us more about a society and how it functioned than any more formal academic work. This film takes an interesting stance in looking at how propaganda can be produced through unusual methods, and that it can even be considered an artform (I use that term intentionally – as much as we may view it as a negative force, it is undeniable that there is an artistry behind these works that are worth studying, even if from a more sociological and psychological perspective than an artistic one), one in which the final intentions often seem to be far more ambigious, but nonetheless fascinating to unpack. Eagles of the Republic spends much of its time dissecting these elements in creative and daring ways, and leads to a thrilling blend of ideas that work together in tandem to create something truly memorable.

Part of the brilliance of Eagles of the Republic – or whatever the closest approximation to it as it can get – lies in Saleh’s direction, which is sharp and compelling in a way that feels genuinely quite exciting. The film presents itself as a blend of different genres, and as someone who has refused to choose a niche, and instead prefers to experiment with form and genre, it makes sense that the director would take a more unique approach to this narrative. The core of the film is simple – a psychological thriller combined with political drama, heaped with layers of dark comedy and even a touch of romance where it makes sense. It’s a film with many different tonal shifts, and while this may not work for some viewers who value consistency over ambition, it’s foolish to think that it was anything other than entirely earned here. The film is a masterful blend of ideas, each one pieced together brilliantly – whatever flaws exist in this story, the execution is not one of them. In fact, if there is any praise that we can give to this film above all else, it would be Saleh’s ability to craft something so incredibly engaging – at over two hours in length, the film moves at such a rapid pace that we don’t even feel the running time, since everything is executed so swiftly and with a quickfire approach that never allows it to dwell on one idea for too long. It also helps that the film is beautifully shot – Saleh’s credentials as a director across different media is clear here, since he refuses to reduce the film to just a one-dimensional visual palette like we often see in political dramas. Cairo has rarely looked more interesting than when filtered through the lens of his camera, and the stunning cinematography by Pierre Aïm, as well as the tremendous editing work by Theis Schmidt and everyone involved in the aesthetic of the film (including costuming and production design) deserve kudos for so carefully creating a version of reality that is entirely believable, while still existing slightly left-of-centre, an element that is used consistently to bring all of these ideas together so extraordinarily well.

A film like Eagles of the Republic is only going to be as strong as its leading performance, since it is a character-based film, and one that could only truly benefit from someone who could handle the various nuances of this character. The responsibility falls to Fares Fares, who delivers a very strong performance as George, someone who has grown so comfortable being viewed as the greatest actor in the country, but has to grapple with his own feelings of inadequacy when it becomes clear that he is merely just a pawn in a game being played by shadowy figures, all of whom are committed to ensure that he does not realise just how expendable he is in reality. Fares is tasked with playing both sides of the character – a confident, cocksure movie star in public, but an insecure, paranoid citizen who realises that he is being compromised in private. There is a complexity to this performance that Fares captures splendidly, a kind of sincerity that is truly difficult to mimic, and instead comes from a genuine place of interest in the subject matter. Despite playing a larger-than-life character, Fares refuses to resort to hysterics, since he knows that this would weaken the performance. Instead, he builds a complex protagonist whose inner conflict defines the film and makes it so unexpectedly bold, particularly in how it refuses to go for the most obvious techniques. It’s a masterful performance, and one that is supported by the rest of the cast, which include an incredibly menacing Akr Waked, whose piercing gaze and quiet intensity make him a perfect villain, as well as a sprawling cast of bit players who may not have much time on screen, but bring so many layers to this film. Every one of them strikes the right balance between playing into the absurdity of the premise, and showing the necessary restraint – and the results truly do speak for themselves, since the film massively benefits from their solid, reliable and ultimately very compelling work.

Eagles of the Republic is not a particularly revolutionary work, but it does have enough merit in terms of both concept and execution to pique our curiosity, becoming a daring and moving exploration of art and how it can be used as a political tool in many contexts, particularly when it comes to how it can change how society perceives certain subjects. Some elements are difficult to follow – one could argue that you need at least some knowledge of Egyptian politics, both past and present, to understand all the references – but even without this context, the film is quite strong, particularly since it taps into some universal themes. It is easy to imagine such a film being made in other countries, especially with the continuous rise of a new form of fascism, which has ultimately caused so many people to be pitted against one another in the battle between the government and its people. No grand statements are made, and it ends exactly how we would expect (anyone thinking that it would conclude with the same cynical tone we encounter throughout had too much faith), but it all still feels genuinely compelling. Saleh is a fascinating director, and while he is still trying to find his niche, he has proven that he is both a masterful storyteller and a tremendous visual stylist, something that considerably elevates this film and makes it such a daring work, one that combines political thriller with sardonic satire, becoming a bold and refreshing exploration of political maneuvering and the challenges that come when one looks behind the veil and attempts to find answers to questions that they were never in any position to ask. These all work together to create a film that feels genuinely bold and engaging, and one that has a relevance that far exceeds any personal concerns that we may have with the narrative and what it represents as a whole, being far more layered than we’d expect at a cursory glance.