By Lochley Shaddock
In the aftermath of the Egyptian President, Mohamed Morsi, being overthrown by General Abdel el-Sisi and the Egyptian military in 2013, Cairo was flooded with civilians revolting against the coup d’état, resulting in thousands of arrests and hundreds of deaths. The massive influx of prisoners, however, led to many protestors being stuck in prisoner transportation vehicles. Mohamed Diab’s Clash is set entirely in one of those vehicles and delves into the various beliefs and characters that occupy the streets and, by extension, Egypt.
Clash is the second directorial effort by Mohamed Diab, which he also wrote. He comes from a screenwriting background, having written many successful films and has earned a Webby award for his political activism during the 2011 Egyptian Revolution. Clash was the opening film for the Un Certain Regard competition at Cannes 2016, the Egyptian entry for the 89th Academy Awards and received critical and commercial success domestically and internationally. Currently, he is in the process of writing his third directorial effort, a science-fiction thriller set in a dystopic future.
Could you talk briefly about how you got into filmmaking and what kind of filmmaking culture there is in Egypt?
Growing up in Egypt there was no way to know you had any talent. The thing is my family always thought it could only be a hobby and that I could never take it seriously. So, I went to business school. But whilst working at a fancy bank, I used to pitch my films to the celebrities that came in. Then one day someone told me, “you have good ideas,” and I decided to study screenwriting in America. When I came back I wrote some of the biggest blockbusters in Egyptian history. But after writing four films, I still felt my voice wasn’t being heard. That’s when I decided to make my first film, Cairo 678, about sexual harassment. That was when I finally found my place and that was in 2010. But then the 2011 Revolution happened and it took me five years to make my next film, which was Clash.
Being such a vocal figure during the 2011 Egyptian Revolution, what did you feel your filmmaking could add to the dialogue surrounding the revolution that your activism couldn’t?
When I made my first feature, Cairo 678, I was on TV every single day, and the revolution had just happened. So, I used my place to promote the revolution. We never talked about the film. We talked about what was going to happen to Egypt’s future. For three years, I felt obligated to be a political activist, thinking that I could make a difference and that I could help. Eventually, things exploded and we ended up on the brink of civil war, so I realised I needed to make something about co-existence, and what the revolution was about: unity. Every single character you see in the film is someone that I or my brother had met and that’s how they became so authentic. Most of the film is based on true events. Before making the film, I worried I had wasted the last three years of my life, but it was really the best research possible for Clash.
In Clash, each character seems to have a different perspective on the conflict. How important was it for you to depict the diversity and the similarities of the Egyptian people?
We needed to have every Egyptian in that police car. It wasn’t a choice. But the challenge was how to do that without it being a “political talk show.” How do we make those people feel like flesh and blood and make them feel real? It was very intentional to show every part of Egyptian society. On top of that, I had to not show my side, because I actually have a side. I believe in the revolution. But the film wasn’t about the revolution, it was about co-existence. That was the bigger message than anything else.
With those characters come really humorous moments too. Considering the dark tone and subject matter, why include that?
That’s there for two reasons. The first reason is that it speaks to the real Egyptian character. Egyptians would crack a joke at a funeral. (Laughs) This is how we are. We’re very funny people, so I had to be true to the characters. Secondly, I needed something to make the people more engaging. Each character has very few lines, but the audience has to remember each of them. You needed to identify with them. Plus, there is no language more universal than comedy. But it’s very hard to make humour that can cross bridges and language. With each joke I wrote, I had to think, “would people abroad get this or not?”
Speaking of the writing, you set the entire film in the back of a prisoner transportation vehicle. In terms of logistics and the subject matter of the film, what were the difficulties and backlash like?
To write thirty characters, have each of them be different and write a film that takes place, from the beginning to the end, in one, tiny car, and still be engaging was a huge challenge. We also had to ensure it was balanced. You want people to focus on the message, which is we’re all human. That’s why it took thirteen times to write the film. Before production, it was like theatre. Actors were practising their roles for a whole year and the story developed so much during that period. But even after that pre-production stage, the shooting was very hard. We shot in the real streets, used real fireworks and had people acting out the riots. Plus, the camera was in the car, so it doesn’t look like we’re shooting a film, but that people are actually killing each other in the streets. It needed a lot of preparation, but thankfully I had a great team. During the brick scene, however, my producer got kidnapped, someone got stabbed and people ran in from the neighbourhood. It just got really crazy. But that’s why the film feels so real, because it is.
Near the end of the film, one of the journalists says to the other “the images we captured here could inspire others.” Was that a manifesto, of sorts, for why you made the film?
That is very true. I am that guy, the journalist, in the film. His only mission was to try to capture the reality of the situation. All we hear about is how people kill people, the numbers, but you never see the moments that bring people together. We tried to capture those moments. I wanted to show that even the enemy, the Devil, has a human side. He has kids. He is like you, only he is on the other side. But for that, I got attacked on every side. We knew this was going to happen and it wasn’t necessarily harmful, because a lot of people loved the film, just like Cairo 678. In the beginning, Cairo 678 got attacked, but eventually, it helped change the laws around sexual harassment in Egypt and people accepted the film’s truth. This is what we’re hoping for with Clash. We hope it changes people one viewing at a time.
These are all very political messages and yet a 2007 film you wrote, El Gezeira (The Island), seems much more commercial, being a blockbuster about a drug lord. Yet, the two films you’ve directed are very political. Would you, therefore, call yourself a political filmmaker?
No, I would never call myself a political filmmaker. I’m just a filmmaker that happens to have written a couple films about things that matter in my society. And I’m so proud to make films that can make a difference. My next film, even though it’s science-fiction, will have a social message and an environmental message. Even El Gezeira turned into a question about whether we have choices in life or not. I want people to think about the film more when the film ends. If you are going to spend two or three years of your life making a film, you want it to matter. You want it to make a difference.
So, who is Clash made for at the end of the day? Is it those within Egypt, those outside who don’t understand the conflict or another audience entirely?
From the get go, you’ve got to try make something local, but after ten or fifteen minutes it has to be stripped out of its locality and become something international; that anyone can relate to. The skeleton of Clash is the Egyptian political situation, but after ten to fifteen minutes, no one speaks about the Egyptian problems anymore. It’s just groups of people who hate each other and are stuck in one place. I think this film could apply to today’s America, to today’s England, to today’s Turkey, and that is why I think it was so successful abroad. That’s why it opened the Un Certain Regard at Cannes. That’s why Tom Hanks wrote a message on Facebook, urging people to see the film, because he identified with the film, as did everyone else who saw it.
Clash is playing at ACMI from March 30 – April 6, and on April 22 and April 28 at the Gold Coast Film Festival.
Lochley Shaddock is a novelist, essayist, film critic and screenwriter/director.




Dear Sir/madam,
My name is Boubacar Coulibaly from the African Film Festival New Zealand Trust (AFFNZT).
AFFNZT is a charitable organisation that has the goal of sharing African cultures with the NZ communities through films. Despite the distance, our goal is to create a rapprochement between the two societies.
We are currently receiving films for our fourth festival that will take place in Auckland (5 to 15 April 2018) and Wellington (2 to 6 May 2018).
We will be very pleased to receive a copy of your film Clash for pre-selection.
Thank you very much,
Cordially.