Eagles of the Republic

Fares Fares and Lyna Khoudri

Tarik Saleh's Eagles of the Republic is a twisty and compelling drama about an Egyptian film star who unwittingly becomes involved in dangerous political intrigue. George Fahmy (Fares Fares) is that top-flight movie star with the usual problems of the rich and famous. His films are universally adored in Egypt, but his personal life is a mess. He is separated from his wife, has an uneasy relationship with his teenaged son, and has little in common with his young mistress, Donya (Lyna Khoudri). Government officials give him an offer he can't refuse, the starring role in a hagiographical film about the current (mythical) Egyptian president. Fahmy is a Christian and is uneasy about both Islamic fundamentalism and his country's leaders, but, once his family is threatened, finds he has no choice. The filming is overseen by the stone faced Dr. Mansour (Amr Waked), a government agent who makes plain the fact that Fahmy and all those around him are being surveilled. 

To further complicate the plot, Fahmy embarks on an affair with Suzanne (Zineb Triki), the wife of the Minister of Defense. Fahmy becomes increasingly entangled in a web of many intrigues. An actress friend named Rula (Cherien Dabis) asks him for help after she has been blacklisted by the regime, presuming that he has pull with the powers that be. Fahmy does what he thinks is best, but tragic consequences, most unforeseen, result. Some have labeled Eagles of the Republic a satire, but I feel the body count is too high to describe it as such. I think it is more mordantly ironic than funny, akin to The Threepenny Opera. I also feel that the film has more depth of characterization than satire usually does. The supporting characters, some of whom I haven't mentioned in my summary, are all indelibly drawn and expertly played.

Best of all is Fares Fares. Eagles of the Republic, the third film of Mr. Saleh's Cairo trilogy which includes The Nile Hilton Incident and Boy From Heaven (all starring Mr. Fares), displays the full range of his talent. By the two thirds mark, Fahmy's mask of charm has been discarded for a visage of true terror. The film culminates in a replay of the Sadat assassination: the past as the future's prologue. It helps to know Egypt's recent history, but the picture ranks as one of my favorites released in the US in 2026. Mr Saleh is not much of a visual stylist, but my previous comparison to Sidney Lumet stands. Like Lumet, Saleh is a social realist of the first rank, able to embellish his characters with heart and intelligence. Eagles of the Republic is his most outstanding picture to date. 

Supergirl

Milly Alcock and Matthias Schoenaerts

Indifferently received by critics and audiences alike, I was not very psyched to watch Craig Gillespie's Supergirl, but I ended up being slightly glad I did. The super hero cosmos does very little for me. Even when I was a lad, way back in the 1960s, comic books never floated my boat. Superman is the absolute worst, an übermensch without Nietzchean aggro is not the kind of protagonist I am interested in. However, the super hero genre has yielded a few good films, as even the most despised genres sometimes do. I appreciated the comic and juvenile tone of Ana Nogueira's script for Supergirl. It is reminiscent of the Guardians of the Galaxy films in its use of PG-13 humor. The opening title includes Supergirl's dog, Krypto, urinating. Indeed, urination is a constant motif in the film as the characters mark their territory.

I would be cautious in letting tots see this film, but not because of the pee. The plot hinges on PTSD triggering violence and a search for revenge. Director Gillespie does not emphasize the violent deaths like a Peckinpah, Supergirl couldn't nab an R rating that way, but the film has some dark corners. We first meet Supergirl (Milly Alcock) trying to drink away her demons. In the inevitable flashback, we see the cause of her trauma and the beginning of her unhappy exile on Earth. She really gets PO'ed when a dastardly brigand named Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts) poisons her pooch. Krem has the antidote, so Supergirl must find him and extract her pound of flesh. Joining her in this quest is a younger lass named Ruthye (Eve Ridley). Ruthye's entire family has been massacred by Krem and she is obsessed with revenge. Supergirl is initially leery of Ruthye, but they soon develop a camaraderie. This was the primary charm of the film for me. Gillespie helps create a heathy rapport between his two young actresses that reminded me of the friendship and mentorship between Xena and Gabrielle; without the sapphic tease.   

Supergirl's CGI is on the cheesy side, but it is appropriate to the project. The hair and makeup are outstanding. I love the way Jason Momoa's bounty hunter looked like a cross between Gene Simmons and Randall "Tex" Cobb. Momoa is well cast and seems to have found his groove as a performer. Mr. Schoenaerts offers an amusing comic riff on dumb villainy. He seems well aware that his character has one dimension and is a mere bowling pin made to be knocked down by the hero, like Wile E. Coyote. Only David Corenswet is unsatisfactory. He is too stiff even for the Man of Steel. That cannot be said for Mr. Gillespie's direction. Supergirl is his most likable film since Lars and the Real Girl. It's final reel contains too much Biff, Bam, and Pow for me even, but such are the requirements of the genre.           

The Verdict (1946)

                   Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre                

Don Siegel's The Verdict, released in 1946, is a slightly above average mystery film. It is a B picture filmed entirely on the Warners' lot and set in 1890's London. The fog machines work overtime in this one. Sydney Greenstreet is the lead and plays a police inspector whose faulty investigation results in an innocent man going to the gallows in the film's opening section. Because of this, he loses his job, but a subsequent murder gives him an apparent chance at redemption. Peter Lorre is along for the ride as a dissipated painter who is Greenstreet's best bud, Lorre functions as comic relief and gets the lion's share of the film's best lines. When his landlady, frightened by the recent string of murders, tells him that she is going to bed with a police whistle, he replies, "How would you blow a whistle if somebody cuts your throat?"

The Verdict's script is a series of hoary cliches, but the film boasts solid performances. George Coulouris is enjoyably effective as Greenstreet's successor and bête noir. Joan Lorring, Rosalind Ivan, and Arthur Shields are all sterling in support. This was Siegel's first directoral effort after making his mark in the Warner's editing department with such eye catching credits as Casablanca and Gentleman Jim. His work on The Verdict displays some flourishes that belie a director eager to make his mark. His use of the crane and whip-pans (during a trial sequence) are striking, but are somewhat removed from the no nonsense style he would develop as a mature director. The Verdict is better than most routine programmers, but is more an amusing diversion than the indelible films Siegel would eventually direct.