06/09/2024 - VENICE 2024: In his feature debut, the Egyptian director forces a group of men to confront the shadows of their past

(© Fabrizio de Gennaro/Cineuropa)

Forever running from your pain and anger simply does not work. In Perfumed with Mint [+see also:
film review
interview: Muhammed Hamdy
film profile], his artistically stylised and highly philosophical feature debut as a director, Muhammed Hamdy tackles the toll of emotional and physical pain, the memories that keep bubbling up to the surface, and the need to find a way to co-exist with them. We talked to the helmer about his movie as it premiered in the Venice International Film Critics’ Week.

Cineuropa: You’ve been a director of photography for quite a while, and this is your feature debut as a director. What made you want to go into directing?
Muhammed Hamdy: I’ve always wanted to direct. I needed to make the movie. I needed to do something that I would look forward to. It’s not just me directing the film, but the film directing my life in a way that makes me live it differently. I have to be in places that I’m usually not. I stay closer to certain types of people: I am more interested in their stories.

The characters talk about their internal pain, but you also show the effect pain has on the body.
There is a lot of fear that is repressed; it affects everything. It makes people stop talking. Silence takes a physical toll on a human being. That’s why the plant has to talk because the living don't want to talk, or are scared to do so.

What does the mint, which keeps sprouting like memories, mean to you?
After the political events of 2014 in Egypt, I moved to a village in the south of the country. Someone in that village, a highly respected person, had died, so there was a big funeral. What was fascinating about that was that every time someone mentioned his name, they would add “perfumed with mint” to it. For me, it was the most beautiful way of remembering someone, as they tied his memory to a scent.

These characters are suffering in various ways, from being left by a woman to being shot several times. You don't differentiate in terms of the gravity of their pain.
Every type of pain is worth respecting, regardless of what has happened. It is not a social criterion where we try to differentiate between people.

But people tend to do that.
Unfortunately, yes. Pain is something we should try to understand, and we should not assume that a given person's pain is more important than somebody else's.

How did you instruct your actors?
They are non-professionals who are telling their own stories. I told them that they shouldn't take acting that seriously.

Since this is a philosophical movie, do you also see yourself helming a straightforward narrative?
The movie comes from anger or a sense of bitterness. When I feel anger towards something, I sit down and try to dissect it. These thoughts and ideas tell me something: they tell me what should be done.

Would that be about the political situation in Egypt?
Not just in Egypt. I live a five-hour drive from Gaza. We started shooting seven days after 7 October. The biggest challenge while shooting this film was that between takes, we didn't have time to check them. We were trying to see how many people had died in the meantime. It's very tough. It's even tough to be here. The world keeps turning, I make a film and go to festivals, and people are dying. One has to find a way of confronting that.