66 Books & arts The Economist December 18th 2021
architects who made Petra in Jordan. Loca
tion scouts can choose from all varieties of
desert, from grey (which makes a good Af
ghanistan) to red (a convincing Mars). “We
cheat that stuff all the time for movies, but
to actually go out and shoot in the real lo
cales, it’s pretty unique,” says Eric Hedayat,
a producer on “Desert Warrior”.
The other part of the pitch is money. On
December 14th the Saudi Film Commission
announced that it would offer filmmakers
rebates of up to 40% of their costs, one of
the most generous incentive packages in
the world. Local production partners have
deep pockets, too. The Saudi government
took a controlling stake in mbc shortly
after its owner, Waleed bin Ibrahim Al Ibra
him, was detained in the Riyadh Ritz along
with other businessmen in 2017, in an
“anticorruption” operation widely seen as
a shakedown. Following its boss’s release,
mbcannounced “a greater focus towards
Saudi Arabia and neighbouring regions, in
line with the current transformational
positive changes occurring in the king
dom”. It has stumped up much of the mon
ey for “Kandahar” and “Desert Warrior”.The riddle of the sands
All this increasingly makes Saudi Arabia a
rival to locations like Jordan—Wadi Rum, a
spectacular Jordanian valley, has starred in
many Hollywood movies, most recently
“Dune”—and Egypt, where a oncethriving
film industry has been undone by market
conditions and authoritarianism. Saudi
Arabia’s aggressive push for business has
upset some neighbours. It unsuccessfully
tried to tempt the producers of “Dune” to
switch locations for the sequel, according
to an industry insider. In November the
head of the Cairo film festival called for a
“spirit of collaboration” in the region, after
the Red Sea festival changed its dates, forc
ing Cairo to move its own to avoid a clash.
Yet starting film production from
almost nothing isn’t easy. Saudi crews have
experience in television and commercials,
but films are different. The 600plus crew
of “Desert Warrior” came from 45 coun
tries. Even finding extras is hard. Saudi
Arabia has little tradition of freelance
work, and any job that involves waking be
fore dawn for a 12hour day in the sun has
historically been done by immigrants—
who can make plausible Martians but tend
to be unconvincing Arabs. “Desert War
rior”, which needs 100 extras a day on aver
age, topped up its ranks from Jordan and
Georgia. It has an entire team dedicated to
securing visas, though Mr Hedayat says
conditions are easier than in China, where
he once had to take his entire crew in and
out of the country every 90 days.
The Saudi government is trying to iron
out these problems. Film AlUla is building
a “film camp”, with office space and a pool,
to open early next year. In February it willlaunch a boot camp to train locals in the
basics of moviemaking. Coproductions
are allowing Saudi crew to learn from the
best in the business. Hollywood veterans
bring “a calibre I haven’t personally seen
before”, says Zeinab Abu Alsamh, who runs
mbcFilms’ operations in Saudi Arabia. For
local crew, “it’s like having a degree”. The
model is China, which in the past decade
picked up the tricks of the trade from
American coproductions and now makes
blockbusters by itself.
To do the same, Saudi Arabia must be
come more than a backdrop and bankroll
er. Its hopes lie in Neom, an encampment
of 2,000 people and a lot of diggers on the
Red Sea, close to the Egyptian border. By
2030 the government expects this desert
building site to be a city of 2m, specialising
in digital industries. That will include the
region’s “first true media hub”, says Wayne
Borg, an Australian formerly of Fox Stu
dios, who is in charge of developing media
industries in the futuristic city. The hub
would handle all stages of filmmaking, in
cluding the postproduction and visual ef
fects that are now generally done in the
West. The first two soundstages will be
finished in January; at least six will be rea
dy by the end of 2023, Mr Borg promises.
The big remaining obstacles are cultur
al and political. Importing talent from Los
Angeles is an uphill struggle in a country
where homosexuality is a crime and the
abaya is still the norm for women. Execu
tives heading to the film festival in Jeddah
from Al Ula were surprised when their in
flight entertainment was interrupted by
the call to prayer and screens switched to a
map pointing the way to Mecca. True, some
laws have been liberalised since 2018, for
instance to let women drive; aside from the
absence of booze, the festival felt much
like any other, attracting stars includingCatherine Deneuve (pictured with Mo
hammed Al Turki, a Saudi producer and
festival bigwig). Yet in much of the country
local custom is unchanged. Female crew in
Tabuk have found that local restaurants
still operate segregated dining rooms,
which the law no longer requires.
And the reputational risk of doing busi
ness in Saudi Arabia remains. It made its
debut at the Cannes film festival in 2018,
but stayed away the next year amid outcry
at the murder of Jamal Khashoggi, a dissi
dent journalist thought by Western spooks
to have been killed on the orders of Mu
hammad bin Salman, the crown prince (he
denies it). Vue, a British cinema chain, can
celled plans to build 30 multiplexes in the
country. Endeavour Content, an American
production company, returned a $400m
investment from Saudi Arabia’s sovereign
wealth fund. Winning the Saudi Grand Prix
on December 5th, Lewis Hamilton wore a
rainbow helmet to decry homophobia.
Just as some Hollywood companies are
prepared to look the other way, the Saudi
authorities may be willing to bend their
own principles. Neom will be a semiau
tonomous state with its own government:
“in many ways what Hong Kong was to Chi
na”, says Mr Borg. Its laws, due to get royal
signoff in 2022, are likely to include
streamlined visas, easier import systems—
and possibly a more relaxed social policy.
Mr Borg says Neom will be an “open and in
clusive environment”. Could that include a
drink at the end of the day? “We have to
provide the right conditions for that talent,
to attract them.” Including gay talent?
“Again, we’ll provide the right conditions.”
The dream of a Hollywood of the desert
may yet prove to be a mirage. But Saudi
Arabia’s investments have already bought
it a weapon of soft power, to be deployed at
home and abroad. The country will be able
to spin its own narratives, on its own
terms. “We can finally produce stories that
look like us,” says Ms Abu Alsamh. mbc
Films’ next feature aimed at international
audiences is “The Ark”, a $100m picture in
which Noah’s Ark surfaces on the shores of
Neom, so allowing the kingdom to pro
mote its new city. It also has plans for a dra
matised history of Aramco, the state oil
company, and a biopic of Antara ibn Shad
dad, an Arab warriorpoet.
Western audiences may not buy it. Sau
di producers cite South Korea’s “Squid
Game”, a megahit on Netflix, to show how
tastes have become more cosmopolitan.
Yet China’s film industry, which has
achieved extraordinary success in its do
mestic market, has had almost no interna
tional hits. Either way, when “Desert War
rior” is released in 2022, the world will be
treated to a spectacle that for Saudi Arabia
may make the whole enterprise worth
while: the surprising sight of Captain
That’s entertainment America himself fighting for the Arabs.n