Sainthood isn’t the easiest of subjects to tackle…

This isn’t just a project, this is a promise I made to St. Charbel. My son, named Charbel, is now a year and a half old, and actually plays baby Charbel in the movie. When my wife had pregnancy complications I asked for his help, and this is fulfilling my promise.

I hear you launched a large campaign quite some time ago, why so far in advance?

I wanted people to anticipate it. We were still working on the script, and I launched a fifty thousand dollar advertising campaign. A lot of people have known about it for over a year, and a lot of people have waited for it. You have no idea how many people and magazines have asked consistently over this past year: is it out yet?

Why so far in advance though?

I knew that if the idea was leaked someone else would make the movie, and the problem with that is that they’d make it commercial. They’d write a cheap script and just use the name to sell their movie, and I wanted to nip that at the bud. And sure enough I soon found out that two other guys were working on the idea, and Charbel is important to me, more important than you can imagine, on a personal level.

And you couldn’t stand to see it commercialized…

The last thing I want is some low budget film to come out and commercialize his name. A bunch of guys could have gotten together, spent a hundred grand on actors and cotton beards and called it a movie.

But people are typically delicate with religious matters…

I know what they wouldn’t have done. They wouldn’t have tarnished his name, completely. So I took my loss, I knew the campaign was money to the garbage, but I got what I wanted and they backed off completely. And then we set to work on the script.

I’m sure it was difficult to find the right people for that…

To say the least. We searched long and hard for the person closest to St. Charbel’s spirituality, and we found that in the person of Father Youhanna Khawand. This hermit is the only person legally approved for translating Siriac to Arabic to Hebrew… the guy knows ten languages, he’s unbelievable. He lives the same life that St. Charbel did, and was more than happy to help.

In what capacity?

He oversaw the whole script; you can’t have a normal person write this script. St. Charbel was a man of very few words, and every word he ever uttered meant a lot, and that had to apply to the script. Men like you or I could not have written it. Father Khawand and Mounir Maasri spent close to 200 hours, every single day, until they were satisfied with the script. I wasn’t very involved in the casting; more with the budget.

The very significant budget…

I knew it would take a huge budget, I knew I wouldn’t earn back even half of my investment. As far as budgets go, this is the largest in the history of Lebanese film.

Can I ask how large?

Over a million dollars. I didn’t care, I wanted to get the message out. I wanted people to see how down to earth St. Charbel was, compare the things we care about and the things he cared about. I might be a long way from sainthood, and I don’t say this with pride, but at the same time if I can’t turn to God, a million other people could. And perhaps this film’s message will help them do what I couldn’t.

Will the message translate in other countries?

St. Charbel is famous in Latin America as well. When I flew down there for vacations, I found out that Mexicans revere St. Charbel. There are people there who might want to know more about him; they believe in him, and he still perform miracles even there. There is a priest here who documents St. Charbel’s miracles, and he gets his information from all over the world. Up till this day, every day, he documents two or three miracles a day. And that’s how the world knows him, and they have no idea how difficult his life was or how much he has been through. This is an important point; forget about becoming a saint yourself, simply comparing your life to his, it clashes so strongly it’ll shock you. I’m telling you, St. Charbel is very dear to me.

You mentioned that, may I ask why?

You might laugh if I tell you. You may have heard of Nohad El Shami (famous for waking up cured, after a neck surgery performed while she slept) he came to her and told her that he’ll perform the surgery she needed – you have to see her! Go to her house on the 21st of any month and see her plainly, come back on the 22nd to see the scars appear and bleed, and then again on the 23rd to see her cuts completely healed. She’s the only still living St. Charbel miracle; but don’t listen to me, just go up and see the lady herself.

And you had a similar personal experience?

A lot has happened between St. Charbel and myself, but I won’t sit and list them. But my relationship with him isn’t exactly pleasant; I once was about to make a mistake, one that he showed would have ruined my family life, and he appeared to me. I mean, I laugh at people who talk about these appearances, and some I believe. He never appeared to me, at least not with good news. When he did appear he scolded me, and his words were so powerful you feel wrapped in a massive magnetic field. So I was sitting there asking him to talk to me, and he wouldn’t. Instead he cracked my TV screen, that’s how mad he was. You can’t screw around with this saint, you can’t play with him or fool him, or negociate with him.

All right sold to Time Out Beirut

Creator of West Beirut and Lila Dit Ca, Ziad Doueiri is one of the founders of modern Lebanese film. Just don’t use that term around him.

Was ‘West Beirut’ made to change Lebanon?

Asking an artist to make a change is quite a burden. People always ask me: ‘what do you intend to do with your film?’ It’s too much of a burden. All you can do is hope that it’ll influence some people. The first priority is to express yourself and that’ll have its effects, both positive and negative, around you. It’s not our job to do that. Just be true to yourself, be good at what you do and then you’ll influence people, through pure and simple honesty. Work from your gut, not from your head, and you’ll affect people in the same way.

But the movie did start something big…

I’m aware that something was started in ’98 when there was no precedent. The scene was empty and we created something of a rebellious film. It still is something of a rebellious film. I remember though, that I didn’t even expect it to be released when I wrote it. I figured it would be an arthouse movie, maybe a video. I thought that 500 people would watch it, maybe a 1000, but I never expected the incredible turnout.

Way off the mark on that one…

Tell me about it. When the film was out and the people from Cannes came I figured they’d say: ‘good job and come again.’ I never thought it would work that well and if it did, I never thought it would be viewed in Lebanon. People here weren’t interested in making it. When it came out, something happened, something of a quick chemistry or a spark – the right topic, in the right place at the right time. And there we were, it was sold all over the world.

That must’ve been thrilling?

I’m not going to be falsely humble; I’m very happy it sold well. I’m very happy with what it did and the shadow it left. It came at a time when the chemistry was there to be found and it just dragged people in. It was spontaneous and unpredictable, unlike the Lebanese films of its time. Perhaps my absence from Lebanon made the film fresh ten years ago and gave me a fresh outlook on a tired topic.

It was very different. It still is…

It is, it talked about a very important phase of the war without getting too melodramatic. Here I figured: ‘Well, OK, the people that like it are my generation.’ But soon I discovered that 15 year-olds were my biggest fans. They wanted to know about the war, about sex and the older generation. It developed their curiosity. Curiously enough, the larger part of my audience was Christian.

Why is that do you think?

East Beirut was a foreign land to us and before I knew any better I grew up hating the Christian area. I think the Christians at the time were curious about us Muslims in the west, what we thought, how we felt. This movie offered them a peak into the west Beirut life. Christians tend to be more culturally oriented – although people might hate me for saying that. I’m not saying they’re better, there’s just a tendency to be more culturally active. I’ll tell you, my family, for instance, is a family of doctors, lawyers, engineers – not a single person ended up in arts but who can say what’s better.

To the detriment of Lebanese cinema I’m sure…

I don’t think there is a Lebanese cinema. Without funding and the infrastructure, you can’t have a national cinema. Talent without financing and infrastructure is useless, you need the whole machine to support your talent. Movie making is not like painting; you can’t lock yourself in a room and make a movie. There’s a massive machine in play and we have none of it here. Lebanese cinema is embryonic and we’re all struggling.

Even you, a success story?

Even me. I’ve had a script on hand for a long time for instance and just now managed to get financing from Universal Studios.

Can’t you find local financing?

No, never. Everything I’ve done was financed by internationals. ‘West Beirut’ and ‘Lila Dit Ca’ were both purely financed from France. I heard that Caramel was partly financed by ART and Bosta partly financed by LBC, but all that means is half a million bucks maybe. A film needs at least twice that much.

Why don’t locals support your work?

I’m controversial and no one around here wants to touch controversial topics. I have a film coming up called The Attack. If this goes through, it’ll be the first Middle Eastern film with a completely Arabic cast to be financed by the United States.

But still you’ve made a living…

I’ve lived off this for a long time. But I have 23 awards and I’m struggling. This is fine but I should not have to struggle at this point, it just doesn’t make sense.

Well, what is this new film anyway?

The Attack? It’s about a Palestinian doctor who gets famous in Israel and one day find out that his wife committed a suicide attack. He never saw it coming. A wife who received everything she could want, blows herself up. Why? He goes on a journey to find out and endures a lot of self discovery along the way.

So what’s your favorite place in Lebanon?

The restaurant down the road, right now. It’s called Michael Louis Aoun, a small cantina run by an old couple for the past 50 years. The man inherited it from his father. It’s homemade food and you sit and eat for LL10,000. This is Lebanon, this is Beirut; not the big fancy places. These places are inspiring.

And speaking of our favorite city…

Beirut is the most eccentric place I know. The Lebanese man is very eccentric and egocentric and he acts upon it. He’s the most generous, friendly, lying, cheating, loving paradox on earth. I love it, I hate it, I want it built and I sometimes I want it blown away. I love it and hate it at the same time, equally.

The man to blame for over a hundred music video clips and dozens of popular advertisements, Lebanese Said el Marouk has taken his show to the silver screen with a $200 million film.

Let’s start with our basics; what’s your favorite place in Lebanon?

There are plenty of places. I’m always amazed by this country, especially since I work a lot behind the camera. I love fish restaurants, especially the ones by the sea. There’s a place in Maameltein, a place in St. Georges and the lighting is amazing just before the sunset. The contrast between the green of your vegetables and the blue of the sea is spectacular. I often eat with my eyes before anything else. But each place has its signature feel and I’m constantly amazed by Beirut and its many contrasts.

It’s a pretty amazing city…

It’s a crazy city. The contrasts of the old styles and streets with the modern, the houses built in the 1930s and 1940s, they all give you a sense of pride. Beirut was built by its children, not some foreign architect. It has a lot to offer for the filmmaker.

That’s right, finally done with the music videos aren’t you?

First of all, you don’t ever really specialize in video clips. You study TV or cinema, but you don’t have many chances here as a film producer. In the Arab world it doesn’t matter how educated you are, or how good your degree is, they need to see work, a lot of work. Music videos were a bridge here, my dream had always been movies. But you have to wait for the right moment.

You also mass produced some commercials, didn’t you?

Those I did for the money. Your name doesn’t show up on the ads but everyone in the right circles knows what you’ve done. With video clips you get to put your name in the credits and with ads you get paid well. There are plenty of local and regional ads — especially in Egypt — that I’ve made and you wouldn’t know to attribute to me. Oh yeah, I made a lot of ads.

But no more; now it’s the silver screen or bust!

Yes. I think I’ve made one too many clips, over 120 to be sure. Now it’s a matter of timing and now I have a good booster. I worked on Transformers 2, after all.

Which is why I’m here, and that’s pretty incredible. How on earth did that happen?

I went to the States the other year and took my showreel along. Now, I’ve always followed up on the few people who I felt were key in the industry. One of them was a very famous colorist who worked on movies like Pearl Harbor and Pirates of the Caribbean. I contacted him and we became friends over time.

I’m sorry, but a colorist does what?

Well, he colors. Think of that scene from King Kong, the one where the taxi is driving by the port, a blue background and an extremely yellow cab; you could never get that with a camera, warm and cold colors? It’s unbelievable. And this guy was one of the best; so I gave him my showreel.

Then you get the fated call…

About a year later I get a call from Michael Bay around midnight. At first I didn’t believe it was him — I mean c’mon, hello this is Michael Bay? — but he asked me to be the second unit director in Transformers 2. Before you ask, say you need two shots set at 5pm, to save time, he shoots the cars and then sends me the cars and I continue the shot, get it?

Got it, and thanks. So you actually got to meet Michael Bay…

Yes, I was also a consultant on the team. I’ve shot in a lot in Egypt before and my experience made me an asset to Michael. I shot some car chase scenes, some running scenes and some plate shots of Abul Hol – shots that will later be included in Transformers 2. You can’t give these to an assistant director, you have to give them to another director.

Stop acting all cool, weren’t you thrilled?

Unbelievably! I have shots in a $200 million movie — I mean wow. We were even shooting in Luxor at one point and I suggested a different way to take a scene and he actually took my advice. It’s surreal.

So what really is the difference between low budget movies and a $200 million movie, umm, besides the 200 million dollars?

Man, I discovered that 70 per cent of making the movie is the amazing equipment. Compared to their equipment we’re using sub-standard student equipment. It’s amazing. They have tiny skin-colored wires that act as wireless microphones. The actor is speaking, on a windy Egyptian night, near the pyramids in the open air and you couldn’t hear anything except the crystal clear voice of the actor. It’s incredible. It’s all about budget — I mean my impossible local dream is to make a $3 million movie. They had $200 million.

You’re talking about Cinema Rivoli I presume?

Yes, and now everyone knows I have a movie that I’ve stopped; for many reasons, including budget. I need to build the Downtown in 1975, that’ll cost me a million dollars alone and that’s on a budget. Michael is a producer and director and he’s asked me several times to send him my movie. He’d like to produce a horror movie and my movie is a horror movie, a classical horror.

Cinema Rivoli has been around for a while, as a dream at least…

Four years now, and it took me three years to write. I’m rewriting it now and when this new draft is done I’ll send it to Michael. It’ll have to be in English though. But that’s not a bad thing. Chinese cinema for instance, was unheard of until the Chinese started creating movies in English. It’s about communicating your mindset, your ideas, and it doesn’t matter what language you use to communicate. English is the most used language in entertainment, so why not? If Michael takes it I hope to take double shots of everything, once in Lebanese Arabic and once in English.

Sounds complicated; the actors would have to be Lebanese then?

Not entirely, you’ll have to add some internationals in the international version because they are the names that will sell the movie. Each international actor can carry several locals on his back. You’ll drop a couple of locals for the English version but that won’t matter. But our name will be out there!

Creator of Caramel, Lebanese producer and silver screen heroine Nadine Labaki is surprised by her success, and grateful for the learning experience.

The film is out, what do you hope to get back?

Well, you make a film hoping that people will like it, that it will have an impact on people, but you never really know if it will or not. It has done well, and I’m very happy, so I’m very happy to be one of the cultural figures of the country.

Might as well slip this in now; how do you feel about the country, or Beirut in particular?

Beirut is black and white. Old and new, traditional and modern, western and eastern. That’s what makes it interesting; you don’t get bored.

Back to your career, was it tough to get it going?

I started with small videos, and that was important for me to learn; I didn’t have the maturity and experience. It’s all about experience, music videos and ads are a great way to learn the ropes. I did so many different things, but the aim was always to make a film. Later one I met my producer here in Lebanon, and she decided to follow me and my story, and this is how it all happened.

Sounds pretty straightforward…

Not as easy as it sounds. It happened that way, but you don’t have the structure here for that kind of endeavor. Everyone has his own way, and you have to struggle to get your way through. I was lucky to meet someone that believes in me, and my method. It all came at the right moment for me.

So work hard and wait for a lucky break?

No, no never wait. Work hard yes, and maybe when you start wanting something really hard and working for it it’ll happen. I’m not being naive or anything, but you need to believe in your dreams and you shouldn’t be scared of them, or how big they are.

Any particular success stories to look up to?

You can’t really talk about a film industry here yet. There are certainly some filmmakers that made it big, and some local films that traveled around, but we can’t yet speak of an industry; at least not on an international level. A lot of us aim high though, so it’s only a matter of time.

How high did you aim with Caramel?

Caramel was a challenge. I mean, I only had one professional actor in there, and the rest of us were learning. It was my first film, and I didn’t expect it to succeed this much. I couldn’t have, this is huge. It was a small Lebanese film with a very small budget.

The right people, the right time, the right place…

I guess; it was a simple Lebanese story – there’s no recipe – about very ordinary people. As a viewer you can easily identify with these people. They’re excerpts from your life, you don’t get the feeling that you’re watching superstars in a fiction, you’re watching yourself. The people on screen are your neighbors and friends.

That doesn’t explain it’s multi-national success though…

The internationals identified with the struggle and the stereotypes. The film had even more success abroad, and I feel that the women identified with their counterparts on screen, and these everyday heroes.

Ooh, keyword right there; who are your heroes?

Anyone who has something I don’t and want, and everyone who can do something better than I can; luckily, you find these people all around.

I see your fame hasn’t gotten to your head…

It doesn’t really change you. Of course you have more responsibility, but it doesn’t change you. It just makes you want to try your best, and at the same time it grounds you. You know you’re not perfect, you’re not the best; you know you could be better and it keeps your feet on the ground.

Let’s wrap it up then; what’s your favorite place in Lebanon?

It depends on my mood. I don’t like doing the same thing over and over, so it depends. Everything around me affects me; and I don’t have habits or patterns – I can’t even decide how I like my coffee or eggs…