Franco-Egyptian filmmaker Namir Abdel Messeeh’s “Life After Siham” is screening in the Special Screenings section of the Cairo Intl. Film Festival, on Nov. 19 and Nov. 20, having previously received development support at the 2021 Cairo Film Connection. In addition to playing in Cairo, it is also screening in IDFA, Turin and Marrakech. The autobiographical hybrid-doc is produced by Messeeh’s production company Oweda Films, in co-production with Camille Laemle, via Paris-based Les Films d’Ici, and supported by two Egyptian producing partners – Ambient Light and Red Star. It is distributed by Météore Films. The sales company is Split Screen.
After its world premiere at ACID in Cannes 2025, the film screened in Zurich and recently won the El Gouna Star Award for Best Arab Documentary in El Gouna Festival in Egypt.
The film builds on themes that Messeeh developed in his debut feature-length documentary, “The Virgin, the Copts and Me,” which screened at Cannes, Berlin and CPH:DOX, and was released theatrically in France, with 112,000 admissions. Both projects are linked to his parents, who were forced into exile in France in the 1970s, after his father was imprisoned under Nasser’s regime, due to his communist affiliations. In his new film, Messeeh interacts with his late parents and explores the power of film to revive memories and bring back lost ones. The director spoke with Variety about the film, and its development process, that spanned over a decade. How did your project come about?After my previous film, my mother told me she’d be willing to work on a new film, but wanted me to make a “real film” this time – with actors, like the classic Egyptian films. I started working on a script, but when I found out she had advanced cancer, I told her, we’re going to make a film together very quickly, but she died soon after, in 2014.
I started to make a film as an act of survival and resistance – to say that she’s still here, in a way. With the help of my camerman, Nicolas Duchêne, we filmed her funeral and then I filmed some sequences with my father. But it was too painful, and I stopped completely for a few years. Much later, I showed the images to a friend of mine who is an editor and he told me I had to make the film. Because it’s a universal story. You originally planned to include more fictional elements?Yes, I wrote a screenplay in which there were images of my mother and the funeral, but the rest was fictionalized. That’s what we presented at the Cairo Film Connection. But after around three years of development, in which we presented the film to television stations, investors, and the CNC, we couldn’t get funding, I felt like giving up. Instead I decided to film some scenes with my father. I called Camille, my co-producer. We shot some new footage with my father and from the moment we started editing the film with all the documentary material, we realized we didn’t need to shoot the fictionalized scenes. Instead we got the idea of using archive films to try to tell the story – the scenes that were missing from my film. So it’s really a film that was constructed, that invented itself, that rewrote itself completely, during the editing process. How important was it to have the world premiere at Cannes?We presented it to the Cannes festival because we thought this film has no chance of being released in the cinema and to find an audience unless we showed it in a major international festival. Cannes saw a rough cut of the film and said, “We’ll take it,” and from then on everything accelerated. We showed an almost finished version at Cannes and had a great reception. Then we went back to the editing room because there were still things to finalize… the sound, the music. We finished the final version of the film, which was screened in Zurich, where it received some awards, then we went to the El Gouna Festival, where we received three awards. So the film is starting to have a career. Your father is a key presence in the film.Immediately after the funeral, I filmed a few days with him. Then in 2023 we had this crisis, when everyone was saying no to the film. My father was living in a nursing home, and we learned he was soon going to die, and I thought to myself, I absolutely have to film something before he passes away. I started the film with my mother’s death because I didn’t want to accept that she had died, and the film ends with coming to terms with my father’s death. It’s a moment when we learn to say “I love you” and say goodbye, and accept the fact that life goes on, that death is part of life, which is traumatic for everyone. The film has had a therapeutic dimension for me.
How have people reacted in the screenings?The reactions have been really very nice. From people who have lost their parents, or whose parents were dying, who saw the film and told us, “We cried, but it made us feel good because it was a kind of permission, to say goodbye. Some people told me that after seeing the film it made them want to go talk to their parents. Why has it been important for you to screen the film in Egypt, first in El Gouna and now in Cairo?It’s like bringing my parents back to Egypt. They left Egypt in 1970s, not because they didn’t love their country, but due to political and financial reasons. We always have lived in Egypt, in our hearts. In my early years, I was brought up in Egypt by my aunt. My parents always remained Egyptians. My father, even in France, lived in Egypt. He read all the Egyptian newspapers, he mainly had Egyptian friends. In his heart, he was always in Egypt. We were able to return to Egypt in the holidays. But it was an exile, something irrevocable. They were buried in France. Making this film, and showing it in Egypt and receiving prizes, is like bringing them back to their homeland. How have Egyptian audiences reacted to the film?When we showed the film in El Gouna, it was really beautiful because at first I sensed that the spectators were very disturbed, because I was exposing a personal story, an intimate story in front of the camera, where people talk very openly about death and all that. I think that the audience was a bit unsettled at first, but something really incredible happened. At one point in the film, there was a shift and the audience felt entitled, I can’t put it any other way, to accept the emotions that they themselves experienced while watching the film. They started laughing and they started to cry. At the end of the film, it was incredible. There were spectators who came up to me, who came to hug me, and kiss me. Complete strangers. Even though this involves taboo subject for us. There’s a level of modesty in Arab countries – certain topics are not discussed, even less so in front of the camera. Matters of love and death, everything related to feelings between children and parents. How important were festivals for development of the film?Very important. The support we received wasn’t large sums, but psychologically it was hugely important, because suddenly there were people who said they believed in our project. Development support included the Atlas Workshops, the Cairo Film Connection, the Arab Culture Fund, the Doha Film Institute and CineGouna. We also had two Egyptian co-producers – Ambient Light and Red Star – who put money into the film. I also invested some of my own money to get the film made. My father passed away, and I invested some of my father’s inheritance. I thought to myself, it makes sense that this legacy can be used to make a film that is a tribute to my parents. Once we were in the editing stage, we also managed to get some assistance from France, from the CNC, and from the Île-de-France region.
What role was played by your coproducer, Camille Laemle?She was always my safety net. She was the one who always managed to help me find the balance – of never being too close or too far away from my subject. Camille’s mother died during production of the film and so it wasn’t just my film. Benoît Alavoine, the film’s editor, had lost his father a few years earlier. So in a way we were all orphans. The archive images from Youssef Chahine’s films play an important role.I used these images to transform my parents into fictional film heroes. By using the images from films directed by Youssef Chahine, precisely because I’ve recovered some old images from his films and used them to recreate a kind of fiction. In a way it’s as if I kept my promise and fulfilled my mother’s wish to make a “real film.” Was it difficult to gain permission to use images from the Youssef Chahine archive?We were really lucky, because Marianne Khoury, Youssef Chahine’s producer, and her associates, who own the rights, knows me, and likes my work, and she really supported us on the project. She made it feasible to use the images. I also hope that this has allowed me to revive certain films and a certain kind of cinema. Next year, it’s the centenary of Youssef Chahine’s birth. I think his films will be re-released in cinemas and I hope that my film will also help to restore people’s desire to discover this type of cinema. What opportunities does the Cairo Film Festival offer?Cairo is a festival that attracts large audiences, from the general public. El Gouna has a higher proportion of industry professionals. In Cairo, the spectators come from all walks of life. They’re curious to discover films and otherwise don’t necessarily have access to them. It’s extremely important. Even my family, my Egyptian family, for example, are coming to see the film. So it’s a great accomplishment to screen the film in Cairo.