THE STORY – Egypt’s most adored actor, George Fahmy, is pressured to star in a film commissioned by the highest authorities. He reluctantly accepts the role and finds himself thrown into the inner circle of power. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he begins an affair with the mysterious wife of the general overseeing the film.
THE CAST – Fares Fares, Lyna Khoudri, Amr Waked & Zineb Triki
THE TEAM – Tarik Saleh (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 127 Minutes
Long gone are the days when Egypt, a titan of Arab cinema, stood tall in Cannes’ main competition. The legendary Youssef Chahine once walked its red carpet regularly, even receiving a special 50th anniversary prize from the festival. Now, Egyptian representation comes in more ambiguous forms. “Eagles of the Republic,” directed by Tarik Saleh, a Swedish-Egyptian filmmaker, may technically be a Swedish film, but its heart and subject matter are unmistakably Egyptian. Presented as the closing entry in Saleh’s informal “Cairo trilogy,” following “The Nile Hilton Incident” and “Boy from Heaven,” the film is a political thriller about art, propaganda, and compromise, but at what cost?
The story centers on George Fahmy, a beloved and self-absorbed Egyptian actor, who is more devoted to his legacy and romantic escapades than his family. Estranged from his only son and hostile toward Egypt’s current regime under Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, George finds himself unexpectedly approached by the state to play the president in a government-backed biopic. He refuses at first, but a cascade of psychological manipulation and dirty, well-worn tactics eventually push him into accepting the role. As filming begins, George is drawn into a dangerous web of power plays far beyond his understanding or control.
The film shines most during its meta-cinematic sequences. Scenes that take place on set with chaotic shoots, petty egos, and thinly veiled censorship deliver tension and biting humor. Saleh clearly has a knack for the absurdity of filmmaking under surveillance, and those moments feel the most alive. But beyond that, “Eagles of the Republic” often feels like yet another hollow attempt by Saleh to critique a system from which he has long been removed. The film, shot in an unnamed country standing in for Egypt, features a mix of Egyptian and other Arab actors, some of whom struggle to convincingly portray Egyptian dialect and nuances — a misstep immediately noticeable to anyone familiar with Egyptian cinema.
Intentions may be noble as it’s clear Saleh seeks to expose the machinery of authoritarianism, but the execution lacks depth and authenticity. The framing is uninspired, the tone inconsistent as it swings between satire and thriller, and the script stumbles between forced social commentary and melodramatic plot twists. One major narrative turn – a bloody failed coup attempt set during the October 6th national holiday celebration – feels rushed and unconvincing, as does an implausible, half-baked romantic subplot that appears and evaporates without emotional weight.
Most of the cast feels miscast or out of sync, especially to native speakers. Fares Fares, a frequent collaborator of Tarik Saleh, is serviceable as George, who is charming and volatile in equal measure. He handles the character’s contradictions well enough and finds moments of levity and anguish. But the standout is undeniably Amr Waked, who delivers a quiet powerhouse of a performance as Dr. Mansour, a steely government figure overseeing the film’s production. As the film’s silent operator, Mansour listens, calculates, and executes with chilling calm. His real-life history of being sentenced in absentia by an Egyptian military tribunal for political dissent adds an extra layer of poignancy. Waked’s mere presence in this role turns the performance into something between subversion and catharsis. It’s a personal act of resistance woven into the film’s fiction.
“Eagles of the Republic” wants to be a film about art as resistance, propaganda self-censorship, and the weight of representation. But Saleh’s vision often stumbles under the weight of its own ambitions. He reaches for the urgency of political cinema but lacks the rootedness to give it bite. In the end, what could have been a searing commentary becomes more of a spectacle that entertains in flashes but ultimately fades.
