DALIA SHAWKY

5' ELEVEN''
5 hours ago
5 min read

Bypassing the polite greetings and opting instead for a round of hugs, Dalia Shawky brought buoyancy and warmth to the day’s proceedings. Star signs, a semester studying in Lisbon, and appreciating the British accent: a short conversation was all it took to make an impression – playful, unguarded, and endearing. With conversational ease, 5’ELEVEN” sat down to get acquainted with the Egyptian actress.

Words by Christiana Boules.

Photographed by Edwin S Freyer. Styled by Alton Hetariki. Makeup by Agnieszka Hoscilo. Hair by Fady Mohsen. 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. Story shot at Sofitel Cairo Nile El Gezirah.

Appearing self-assured, Dalia’s identity is grounded in a lifelong sense of direction. Dancing and acting from the age of five, she still gets messages from school friends expressing pride in her for doing what she always wanted. For some, clarity of vision can be an uncomfortable thing, but Dalia responds — “A friend of mine once said, ‘It's not very nice that you’ve always known what you want — you don't branch out’. I'm like, ‘What? It's amazing!’”

Very much ‘A Girl’s Girl,’ she appears starry-eyed when talking about her childhood inspirations – Sherihan, Soad Hosny, and Nabila Ebeid, who taught Dalia a lot about the “epitome of femininity”. Talking about the ‘softness’ to be found in feminine energies, she recalls a role that was close to her heart for this very reason. Starring in a TV remake of the 1956 film A Woman’s Youth, Dalia played the part originally portrayed by Shadia, another sweetheart of Egypt’s cinematic golden age. In contrast to the complex personas of other performances, she fell in love with the character’s sweetness and simplicity.

Yet in the face of industry realities, she embraces the power and strength of womanhood. Not for the reasons one might expect, Dalia shares her nostalgia for the films of the 1950s, 1960s and even the 1990s. The legendary women of the era’s silver screen had no issues achieving top billing, she says — “They knew what they deserved, and they got what they deserved – and it doesn't belittle the men at all. This is what I want them to understand — it's not them or us. It's both of us. You have your stories. We have our stories. But the scripts are always in favour of the patriarchy, for the men to lead.” A common defence given, she explains, is the risk that box-office sales would face. Ensemble films of the early noughties like Sleepless Nights (2003), Girl’s Love (2003), and The Best of Times (2004) proved that until recently, female-led cinema could thrive — but the question now commonly asked is ”'How would they make films like those now?'”

The steepness of the challenge risks engendering insecurity amongst some women in the industry, but not Dalia. Not conforming to the expected template, her signature look stands in contrast to the prevailing styles of the Arab world. “I don’t mind being without makeup on screen,” she points out. Pared-back and with a hint of punk, her eyebrow piercing and expression-over-convention style suggests she is not driven by the public gaze. The pressure comes from seeing how a curated image translates into job bookings. Once told by a director, “You're more talented, but she has more followers than you, so we have to go with her for production reasons,” Dalia’s very healthy one million followers suddenly can’t be exchanged for enough social media currency.

Naturally, therefore, she does not put much stock in social media endorsement. “It hurts me to say it, but I don't get very happy or very sad anymore. I always want to stay grounded, and you never know what's true and what's real. You're not seeing the person, you're not hearing their voice, you're not interacting.” Instead, she is energised by genuine interactions with audiences. She recalls an interaction at El Gouna Film Festival, where a woman told her that the short film Microbus (directed by Maggie Kamal) was being used in French schools to discuss sexual harassment. Showcased at the 2022 Clermont-Ferrand International Short Film Festival, the film follows Dalia’s character, Nour. Making her way home after her brother says he can no longer collect her, the microbus – one of the cheapest modes of transport in Egypt – becomes her only option. Being the most personally affecting role for Dalia, its impact on others was encouragement enough for her – “I just want to keep my promise to myself, that I'm doing this for the right reasons. Because art is truly my fuel, and I never want to run out of it.”

Seeing how industry events like the El Gouna Film Festival in Egypt are becoming a point of connection and opportunity for filmmakers, artists, and viewers, she cannot deny the importance of receiving their stamp of approval. But assessing success is more of a reflective process for Dalia. Relying mainly on two barometers — her mother, and herself, she reviews her work closely — “I love to watch my work…I don’t understand how people can learn otherwise.”

Of the key moments in her career, two productions come to Dalia’s mind. The Giza Killer (a 2023 crime-thriller TV series), and the 2023 sports drama, 5 Rounds. Reaching number one on the streaming service Shahid, Dalia believes 5 Rounds was a pivotal moment not just for herself, but for the new generation of actors. This cohort she believes will return Egyptian cinema to its former standard of “fearless exploration.”

With the example of the actor Adel Emam’s works alongside renowned screenwriter Wahid Hamed – whose films of the Eighties and Nineties were always either tongue-in-cheek or subversive – she wonders how filmmakers were able to talk freely about politics, social injustices and relationships.“I learned a lot about my Egypt from [films]” – not because they were overtly ‘educational’ but because of what she describes as their ‘poetry’: “It was purely poetic. It wasn't spoon-fed. It was just the voice of the people, or actually, the voice that the people didn't know that they had.”

At home or abroad, Dalia speaks of an emerging boldness amongst filmmakers and actors across the region. Discussing Arab talent on the world stage, she says, “I want us to go on that international stage, but with our stories, with our voice. We won't accept any more roles that are typecasting Arabs or Egyptians just so that we can be something international.”

Dalia is honest about getting “fiery” if someone talks badly about Egypt. Though she was born and raised in the country, her English education once impacted the quality of her Arabic, becoming a source of soreness for her in earlier years.“I get upset because I love being Egyptian,” she says vulnerably. But as open as she is about herself and with others, she undoubtedly remains self-possessed — not something to be assumed about those in her orbit, however, who may just end up wanting to be like her.

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