ASMAA GALAL

5' ELEVEN''
3 days ago
5 min read

At the mention of her 2024 film, The White Dress, Asmaa Galal leaned in from amongst her loyal entourage with a look of delight, and the setting for our chat quickly felt more intimate. The actress was clearly touched and surprised that a female-led Egyptian indie film had reached a viewer in London. Thereafter manoeuvering between Arabic and English, she gave her perspective on freedom, respect and honesty within the Egyptian film industry.

Words by Christiana Boules.

Photographed by Edwin S Freyer. Styled by Alton Hetariki. Makeup by Nour Rizk at Ginger Management. Hair by Richard Boustany at Ginger Management. Production by AALTO. Executive Producer, Alex Aalto. Producer and Local PR, Fatma Elsharkawy. Fashion Project Manager, Jack So. Producers assisted by Hadeer Mekky. Socials by Boram Lee. Asmaa's assistants, Salma Omar and Heba Mustafa. Story shot at Sofitel Cairo Nile El Gezirah. With Thanks to Noor Ayman. Asmaa appears courtesy of Ginger Management.

Asmaa is probably best known and beloved in Egypt for her reprising role in the Ramadan comedy series Apartment Works. Concealing a double-entendre, the Arabic title alludes to the hard labour prisoners may be sentenced to — so naturally, the show follows the absurd trials of a newlywed couple navigating the pressures of home life, work, and a suffocating mother-in-law.

Fittingly, her inspiration growing up was the irreverent Sherihan, an icon of Egyptian film and TV throughout the Eighties and Nineties. “I really loved how a free spirit was dancing, acting, singing and enjoying her life. I had this image that when I grew up, I wanted to be her.” After watching Sherihan in a comedy play called Keep Your Daughters Locked In (1980), Asmaa was transfixed by how she maintained her playfulness despite the challenging family dynamics depicted. “All the roles were fantastic, but as soon as she came out, everyone would focus and watch her. I loved how much she was loved …she was everything.”

Alizee zebra print dress by Rat & Boa. Panthea leather pumps by Valentino Garavani.

Allured by the uninhibited world on stage, Asmaa set about her plan to become a part of it through school plays and workshops. Then, considering which major would allow her to stay in this world’s orbit while appeasing her family, she studied mass communication at university. “Studying anything to do with cinema was not an option at home — they did not agree.” Already putting herself on the line to pursue acting, she began to question her talent following a string of memorable rejections. Thankfully, at age 21, luck struck “overnight” for Asmaa, and she was cast in a fresh-faced ensemble for the Egyptian TV series The Godfather, directed by Peter Mimi.

Grateful to him for taking a chance on her, Asmaa hopes the industry will keep championing opportunities for actresses. “You are usually a completing part, not something complete.” Too often, the roles available are the love interest or a female caricature; it is rare to encounter a script where male and female characters have equal narrative footing. Off the page, she values directors willing to level the story through collaboration: “Debate with me, so that we can get on the same page… I can't act if I'm not convinced.”

For Asmaa, her most authentic performance ironically came from the fantasy TV series entitled Lucifer’s Kingdom. “Everyone was cheating each other and nobody had principles or even a conscience…it was like ‘el Dunya’ [the world]. It was a story about the world.” Written by Mohammed Amien Rady, whom she now considers to be a good friend, she shares that “it was the first time I felt that someone could see me as an actor who can actually offer something.”

Now established on the scene, she has moved well beyond the anxieties of casting opportunities. Sharing her dislike for a piece of advice often given to her – to “stay available”, she vents: “I want something that is distinctive. I don't want to hear 'oh you get a lot of work!' I want to do something that people remember, like ‘The White Dress’”.

Also translated from the Arabic as The Inevitable Journey to Find a Wedding Dress, the film follows a working-class bride trying to replace her damaged wedding dress the day before she plans to get married. Written and directed by Jaylan Auf, the story clearly has a woman at the helm. “Our aim for this film was to reflect women in a certain class of our society. But actually this sort of pressure — to please society, and her family and her husband — is what a woman faces in every class. In the end, she was happy when they reused an old street banner to make her dress.”

Of the most powerful scenes in the film, her character freestyling at the centre of an underground dance circle was a standout. Asmaa laughs. “After spending months preparing, it still came out awkward”, she says — arguably the reason for the scene’s success. Similar to what enchanted her about Sherihan — and sharing a striking resemblance to her own story — Asmaa explains the impact of the scene. “The moment she entered this world, with all of these people objecting to her entering, I felt — ‘You know what? I am going to come in, and I am going to be in the centre.’”

Independent productions in Egypt are increasing in number, representing one facet of the sector’s development. But asked if she believes the industry has improved over the last two decades, she replies, “Ah, that's risky!” Regarding its creative trajectory, she reluctantly expands: “I believe that you cannot put limits on art. I've never been convinced that in art I have to deliver a certain message — I'm not doing a film or TV show to change everyone's lives for the better. Art, for me, is stories about reality. The good and the bad.” Despite their universal presence, showing poverty, illiteracy, or violence can evoke a patriotic defensiveness from the public, she says, fearing the country’s virtues will pale in comparison.

At any rate, Egyptian film and TV certainly doesn’t eschew tension or tragedy. For Asmaa, its strongest genre is drama. Tapping into a comprehensive archive of heartbreak and its iterations is a skill Egyptians perform with great emotional dexterity, but they are not prone to dwelling on their suffering for too long– or without whimsy. Expanding on her answer, she says, “We are a people who love to laugh and to cry” before using the Arabic expression, which translates literally as “to sweeten and to salt.” As naturally as the sweet course is expected to follow the main, the comedy genre, she says, is a close second for Egyptians.

This interview is inside The CINEMA Issue 15. Purchase your copy here.