Welad Rizk: A guilty pleasure

There can be something unbelievably sexy about a group of young men walking into a desolate landscape or driving a convertible into an ailing city. Strangely, the sons of Rizk enjoy the same allure as Alex DeLarge and his Droogs in Stanley Kubrick's 1971 futuristic flick A Clockwork Orange, in which the youth of England were disturbingly tempting.

The second highest grossing film this summer, Welad Rizk (The Sons of Rizk) is still showing in cinemas. It offers no depth of characters, originality in execution or particular cinematic brilliance. But it unexpectedly captivated both of us and we left the cinema with stomachs full of popcorn and big smiles on our faces.

Director Tarek al-Erian’s flashy, eclectic and visually invigorating film is set in the grey, poverty-stricken, densely populated southern Cairo district of Basateen. It revolves around four brothers who are thieves with a conscience.

Similar to Bryan Singer’s The Usual Suspects (1995), a high-ranking police officer (Mohamed Mamdouh) interrogates Atef (Ahmed al-Fishawy), the brothers’ awkward neighbor and long-time friend, about their lives and criminal activities. The narrative, told through Atef’s story as flashbacks, shifts smoothly between present and past. It starts with how they became thieves following their father’s death but promised never to kill anyone or get involved in drugs.

The competent script, by engineer-turned-writer Salah al-Geheiny, is characterized by carefully timed jokes and expected yet exciting plot twists.

This “boy movie” is full of fights, women dancing in revealing clothes, sex scenes, drugs and sexual innuendo. Because the film doesn’t have any age restrictions, many have criticized the overly sexual content of some scenes and the language the characters use. But if you make a film about a gang who steal, take drugs and pay for sex, it's difficult to expect the characters not to use foul language or make sexual references.

More problematic for us is the film’s representation of female characters. Women are either hysterical girlfriends trying to get the boys to settle down and marry them, or they’re sex workers dancing provocatively. The absence of a rounded female lead weakens the film, but as the male characters are also objectified and caricature-like in their stereotypes, at least these misogynistic representations blended in.

So bringing the epic to life are the new “in” boys of the cinema scene, Ahmed Daoud, Amr Youssef, Ahmed al-Fishawy and Karim Qassem, alongside the older, slightly botoxed heartthrob Ahmed Ezz. Each with an ounce or two of talent, aided by the proficient screenplay, they bring life, color and soul to their rather two-dimensional musketeers. Mamdooh excels as the aloof and callous police officer interrogating wingman Atef.  

Fishawy’s high-quality performance as the latter proves him to be a versatile actor willing to take on a variety of roles. But the up-and-coming Daoud is the real star of the film. The young actor plays a supporting role to Fishawy, Ezz and Youssef but is both the funniest and most convincing. He had already impressed us with his performance as the only male main character in last year’s Ramadan series Segn al-Nesa (Women’s Prison), the hated love interest of Nelly Karim, and he continues to deliver.

Color and flair pops out of the neighborhood’s yellowish-grey decaying walls in the form of the four brothers’ tacky bling, the dowdy cabaret they frequent and the orangey-yellow vintage convertible they drive. Before making a name for himself as one of Egypt’s most well-known action-genre directors (Tito, 2004, Al-Embrator, 1990), 51-year-old Erian’s career directing music videos and ads made his cinematic touch a beautifying one.

Cinematographer Mazen al-Motagawel creates a soft layer through natural light, special angles and slow tracking camera movements — except for the action scenes, where speed is a must. His multi-hued brush perfectly fits Erian's vision of Basateen and its thugs, his fascination with speed and beauty. Tracking opening and closing shots going in and out of the district with a bird's-eye view of its cracked cement squares creates a cohesive flow.       

Hesham Nazih, who has successfully graced many cinematic and television productions with quirky, off-putting and mysterious scores, is an expected but sound choice for the music. The soundtrack here alternates edgy, looming and alarming with fast and playful.     

The Sons of Rizq is fun as an action-packed light comedy with a tight script, nifty camera work and engaging performances. There is little artistry and no deeper meanings, but it’s a capable blockbuster that’s seductively packaged.