The Hollywood Reporter - 21.08.2019

THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER 61 AUGUST 21, 2019

VENICE

Film

FESTIVAL

I

n mid-2018, when Hollywood was warming up to doing business in

Saudi Arabia, it seemed like an especially auspicious moment for Haifaa

al-Mansour.

Just as the kingdom was lifting its 35-year ban on movie theaters

amid a broader wave of reforms, the Saudi-born director was hitting

her stride. Al-Mansour’s Mary Shelley was in theaters around the globe

— including a newly opened one in Riyadh — and her romantic com-

edy, Nappily Ever After, was arriving on Netflix. As the Muslim world’s

most conservative country was opening up to the arts, al-Mansour,

who lives in L.A.’s San Fernando Valley and is married to a former U.S.

State Department employee, was perfectly positioned to seize upon the

opportunity, and she intended to, laying the groundwork to shoot her next

movie in her homeland.

Then, in October, Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi was murdered in

his country’s consulate in Turkey, sparking international outrage, shin-

ing a light on Saudi Arabia’s authoritarian regime and causing many in

Hollywood to reconsider doing business in the kingdom.

As Hollywood retreated from Saudi Arabia and its controversial crown

prince, Mohammed bin Salman, al-Mansour, 44, stayed engaged with the

country where she was born and raised and where much of her family still

lives, quietly shooting her latest movie, The Perfect Candidate, in Riyadh

in early 2019. A drama about a young female doctor who decides to run for

political office, it will premiere at Venice as an acquisition title, one of only

two films directed by women to screen in competition at

the festival. Al-Mansour’s movie, and her provocative vision

of an empowered Saudi woman, arrives just as the kingdom

is trying to rekindle its film industry ambitions.

“Art is something we should not give up on,” al-Mansour

says of working in Saudi Arabia at a time when many of

her Hollywood peers consider the country to be politically

and morally toxic. “The question should not be whether or

not Hollywood should invest in Saudi Arabia. The question

we should ask ourselves is: How can we use art to touch

people’s hearts and change the very traditional and ancient

practices that the society is still somehow addicted to?”

Under a new Saudi law permitting women to operate their own busi-

nesses without the involvement of male guardians, al-Mansour created a

production company in Riyadh, and made The Perfect Candidate with a

mix of German and Saudi financing, for a budget she declines to disclose.

In the script, which she wrote with her husband, Bradley Niemann, the

filmmaker shows her lead character grappling with what is a new dilemma

for many Saudi women: the difficulties that come with increasing inde-

pendence. “I hope people see the universality in a story like this,” says

al-Mansour, a mother of two. “Women everywhere, whether they’re in poli-

tics or the corporate world, or even as a director, we’re always challenged.

There are so many hurdles that we need to go over as women that men

don’t face. Even the way we dress or talk is judged.”

Al-Mansour says Saudi censors read her script and required no changes

to it. “They didn’t have any issues, but I tend to understand the culture, and

I write within those limitations,” she says. She cast a Saudi TV actress, Mila

Al Zahrani, as her lead. Working with a cast and crew of about 50 people,

she shot the Arabic-language film in streets in east Riyadh, in an outdoor

performance hall and in a rented private home.

The experience was a marked contrast to 2012, when Al-Mansour

directed Wadjda, Saudi Arabia’s first entry in the Oscars’ foreign-language

film race, from inside a van in order to comply with strict Saudi rules in

place at the time regarding women in public spaces. “Saudi has changed,”

al-Mansour says. “I didn’t have to shoot from the van this time. I was out,

and access to a lot of locations was easier.”

While al-Mansour has stayed rooted to Saudi Arabia, she

continues to work in Hollywood. After her Venice premiere,

she’ll fly to Virginia to direct an episode of the Showtime

limited series The Good Lord Bird, starring Ethan Hawke as

abolitionist John Brown.

“I try not to be very political,” al-Mansour says. “I try to

push for change within the culture, which can be a very

slow and long process. If our society does not have music

and theater and all that, it’s a society that does not have a

chance to grow. It becomes a very angry place, and I don’t

think Saudi Arabia needs to be there.”

‘I TRY TO PUSH FOR Change’

As Hollywood distances itself from Saudi Arabia, Haifaa al-Mansour — the country’s first female filmmaker —

shines a timely light on gender politics with her competition entry The Perfect Candidate BY REBECCA KEEGAN

of $800,000 — on par with the

price tag for a launch in Cannes.

Telluride, arguably the most

important launch for an awards

run, costs less than the European

fests but more than Toronto,

another key Oscar stop that runs

about $350K for a studio film.

“Venice is amazing and

ridiculous, and one of the most

expensive places in the world,”

says one awards consultant.

“Every time you walk on a boat,

it’s 150 euros [$167]. The boats

are what kill it.”

A studio title can easily rack

up five- or six-figure sums just

shuffling talent back and forth

between Venice’s main islands

and the festival on the Lido.

Booking a water taxi in advance

can cost up to $250 an hour.

Venetian luxury hotels are among

the priciest in the world. The fes-

tival will pay to put up talent — a

film’s director plus three or four

stars — in the Hotel Excelsior, but

most A-listers demand swankier

accommodations. Suites at the

Hotel Cipriani (George Clooney’s

favorite) run $8,000 per night.

The Bauer Palazzo, another VIP

haunt, charges $8,500 a night

for its jaw-dropping Royal Suite

($10,000 with breakfast). The

Redentore suite at The Gritti

Palace, with its prime view of the

Grand Canal, can be yours for

$10,600 a night.

For an indie film, it’s a difficult

calculation. On a non-studio title

like La La Land, Venice expenses

are shared among the producers,

the international sales agent and

often the local Italian distribu-

tor. “At the top end, it could cost

$400,000 or more, with everyone

contributing,” says one industry

insider. “It can be a lot less, if the

festival covers costs for the talent

and you get sponsorship for a

party. But it’s never cheap.”

For indie titles, premier-

ing in Venice is as much about

generating sales interest as it

is about becoming part of the

awards conversation. Most inde-

pendent producers try to play the

fall festival trifecta: Venice for

the glamour, Telluride for the

awards buzz and Toronto for the

distribution deal.

“You can get press attention for

a movie on the Lido and then take

it to Toronto, where you sell the

film,” says Claudia Tomassini,

a Berlin-based PR agent. “It’s

expensive, but if you have the

right film it can work.”

Ariston Anderson contributed

to this report.

Mila Al Zahrani stars as a Saudi

doctor who runs for political office.