Cineuropa sat down with Egyptian writer-director Mohammed Hammad, whose latest feature, Safe Exit [+leggi anche:
recensione
intervista: Mohammed Hammad
scheda film], was screened in the Panorama strand of the 76th Berlinale. The protagonist is an Egyptian Christian, who witnessed a massacre condoned by ISIS and his father’s beheading as a child. The director breaks down how he intertwined this event with the social status of his character and how he used paradoxes as a dramaturgical tool.

Cineuropa: The film was inspired by the massacre of Egyptian Christians by ISIS in 2015 in Libya. Why do you think it’s still relevant?
Mohammed Hammad: It’s definitely about this incident, and it’s important to shed light on it. But more importantly, I wanted to focus on the new generation – those whose parents were massacred. They were children then and are now grown-ups. I’m very interested in how these events shaped their lives, and their relationship with religion, politics and with others who went through the same trauma.

Samaan, your protagonist, is obedient and submissive. Is this only due to his childhood trauma, or are there societal factors at play as well?
Samaan’s character is shaped by both trauma and social context. He belongs to a religious minority in Egypt, with a difficult life and a special professional situation – he’s an intellectual and writer, yet unable to fully pursue his ambitions owing to social, economic and political constraints. He’s aware of being a minority, and that awareness informs how he interacts with the world. The massacre that claimed the life of his father intensified this.

You also explore a generation, rather than just a single character.
Yes, Samaan is layered – he’s a writer, a security guard and a person with many facets. Through him, I wanted to tell a story about a generation navigating trauma and marginalisation.

How do religion and spirituality influence your characters, particularly Fatima, a Muslim woman who unexpectedly appears in Samaan’s life and forces him to help her?
Fatima is a contrast to Samaan. He is introverted and materialistic; she is expressive, spiritual and very strong. She admires the Virgin Mary and treats her almost like a mother figure. This comes from my own childhood experiences visiting the Saint Therese of the Child Jesus Basilica in Shubra [a neighbourhood in Cairo] with my grandmother, even though we were Muslims. We have her statue in our house, and so do my grandparents. These objects are part of popular culture. And that inspired me – Fatima is a bit like my grandmother.

Is she meant to represent the invisible women in society?
Not exactly. Her lack of ID and papers is incidental. My focus is on her personality, her tolerance and the way she engages with Samaan. To him, she is simply another human being, not defined by religion or ethnicity. The film explores the paradoxes in human relationships – people being together despite differences.

Your film shows that religion can be nourishing and supportive, but religious extremism is the complete opposite, which is represented by Samaan’s neighbour, Abdullah.
He has a bomb belt, and he’s ready to use it, to destroy the building in less than a second. That is very dangerous. He’s been raised in violent environments since childhood, and his readiness to destroy shows the long-term effects of indoctrination. He contrasts with Samaan, who was traumatised but learned to fear violence. At the same time, they have things in common. They’re both around 23 years old and live in a sort of a prison. For Samaan, it’s his room, and for Abdullah, it’s his mother’s flat and the water tank on the top of the building, where he hides from the police.

The city itself plays a significant role in the film. Can you discuss your intentions in showing Cairo?
I wanted to show Cairo from Samaan’s perspective. He lives on a rooftop in the downtown area, which might seem extraordinary, but his life is socially and economically constrained. The rooftops, narrow streets and urban textures reflect his paradoxical existence: elevated physically but marginalised socially.

You seem to use paradoxes and irony a lot, even in the title – Safe Exit. For your characters, this safe exit doesn’t exist.
Yes, everyone is seeking safety – Samaan, Fatima, Abdullah – but none of them have control over their lives. Safety is the primary human need, like water and food.  

Samaan also needs control, which he tries to gain symbolically through writing his novel.
He has nothing in his life other than writing his stories, because he is isolated – and it’s his own choice. He’s also afraid of his feelings because of the traumatic event from his childhood. Also, he is like me in a way – my life is mainly watching films and trying to make them.

Why did you choose Marwan Waleed to play Samaan?
I love him – his face, presence and expressions felt like Samaan immediately. He brings authenticity to his character, in his reactions and emotionality. We had very good chemistry and energy. We spent a lot of time together walking through downtown Cairo. Also, we visited Christian churches because Marwan is Muslim.