Talking About Trees

Sudan Electricity Company. Welcome to Customer Service.

It has been four days since our power was cut off.

Since Thursday.

Should we wait for you or not?

Yes, ok, ok...

How long will it take?

One hour? Two?

What do you mean, you don't know?

So we wait until morning?

We're number 175 on the waiting list.

We're number 175?

Yes, 175.

There's no hope.

That was on Thursday. By now, we might be number 200

or number 5. Who knows?

It's disrespectful!

No one complains. The people are subservient.

Watch your step.

Al-Tayeb, move, please.

Dear listeners, wherever you are, welcome to The Front Page.

The Front Page.

A look into the love of our homeland,

its issues,

its concerns,

its dreams and its future.

The Front Page.

Dear listeners, today's topic on The Front Page

is cinema,

that beautiful, magical art.

Our title is...

"Sudanese Cinema: the hero who died."

Usually, film heroes never die.

But in Sudanese cinema the hero died.

We are honoured to have two guests to speak about this topic:

Ibrahim Shaddad, the renowned director.

- Hello and welcome. - Hello.

And Al-Tayeb Mahdi, the well-known filmmaker. Hello.

Hello.

The Rope , by Ibrahim Shaddad, won at the Damascus Festival in 1987.

And the Earth Still Turns by Suleiman Mohammed Ibrahim

won a prize in Moscow in 1979.

The Grave by Al-Tayeb Mahdi

won the Best Short Film Award in Cairo in 1973.

Wonderful achievements in the seventies and eighties.

Now, a renewal of Sudanese cinema

is desperately needed.

What brought about

the death of the cinema,

this dead hero?

We hope for its resurrection.

You talk about "a dead hero".

You can either die naturally

or murdered by a traitor.

The death of cinema was not natural at all.

It died suddenly.

And the sudden death of a hero is the work of a traitor.

To find the cause of death, look for the traitor.

Here where the problem lies.

Is that yours?

Yes.

An Arriflex lens.

What's this?

Claude Brasseur. Le Souper .

La Peau Douce.

Truffaut.

A 16mm camera.

Oh, Buñuel.

What a treasure trove!

All these notes written and accumulated because of my teacher...

Where?

In Germany, during my studies at the Film Institute.

The teacher urged us all to note our observations,

to envision things we needed for a film.

It helped enrich our imagination.

Describing a tree, an alley or a bridge

could help us write.

And I continued in Sudan,

hoping to make films.

Oh, my God!

It's well preserved.

Even the papers inside.

What's this?

The script, I think.

Everything is here: props, sets, costumes, actors.

All of it.

That was location scouting.

We even took shots of the crocodile.

The film was almost ready to begin shooting.

Then the military coup happened

and the project was halted.

All that's left now are the photos.

Nothing else.

It all ended there.

In the name of Merciful God,

proud and honourable people of Sudan,

your armed forces all over Sudan,

have taken an oath to protect our land

and preserve its honour and dignity.

Son of a dog!

He almost killed us!

Fix it to the wall.

How do we hold it in place?

Put a rock on it.

Pull it down.

Use the rock to hold it.

Al-Tayeb, help me with the focus.

Manar!

I think the screen is something else.

This isn't the screen.

It isn't.

Where was it?

Here!

There was...

What's the name?

- A winch? - Yes, a winch.

There was a wire going up...

and it ran up to there.

Come on, jump!

If he reaches the stool, I'll be impressed.

Do you think we have the capacity

to do the renovations?

Or do we improvise this first screening?

We improvise.

Yes.

We rent 300 chairs.

If more than 300 come, we clean the steps for them to sit on.

Let's agree on one thing: this first screening is for people.

Could we ask a sponsor for help with the chairs?

The DAL company, say?

We could ask them for 5,000 chairs.

I want it to be like a heroic act.

No sponsors or advertising,

no speeches or government ministers.

To prove we can do something without them and in spite of them.

Hello.

We don't know each other. I'm Suleiman Mohammed Ibrahim,

from the Sudanese Film Group.

We learned you have a movie theatre and we visited it.

As you know, cinemas have been closed for a long time now.

We want to bring them back to life.

We hope you'll agree to allow us

to organize a screening,

or more than one, in your cinema.

No, no taxes, these are free screenings.

We will take care of cleaning,

chairs, electricity.

You don't have to do anything.

So, that's your final answer?

Okay, thank you, sir.

No hope, Manar.

He doesn't want any trouble with you know who...

We'll find a solution.

"Do they have all the mice under their service?

Is every mouse...

a soldier or a colonel in the Security Services?

They've recruited all animals,

all birds,

and all insects

for the Security Services.

Yes,

Colonel!"

Hello...

Hello!

My name is Suleiman El-Nour.

I studied at the VGIK film school in Moscow,

from 1973 to 1978,

in Roman Karmen's class.

It was a long, long time ago...

My Russian is quite bad now.

I hope you can understand me.

You know, my graduation film was called...

Africa, Jungle, Drum and Revolution.

I've lost this film. I've completely lost it.

Unfortunately, there has been no film production in Sudan...

for a very long time.

This film is very dear to me.

It would really mean something to me

to find it again.

Do you think there is any chance

of finding it in Moscow?

Ok, all right.

Thank you.

I found this artist's studio when I was preparing my film Africa .

I think this is the girl

who read the poem in the film.

This was my farewell party when I left Moscow.

Here, I think I was making a speech

about the dreams that awaited me in Sudan.

I was looking through documents

and I found a bag where I put my old letters.

In it, I found a letter from Al-Tayeb

from the days of exile.

It's dated October 29th,

1995.

That means 20 years have gone by.

So much has happened since.

Our dreams...

Al-Tayeb returned after that.

"I received your joint letter.

It brought back happy memories of the time we spent together.