Woove staff writer Adrienne Rush reviews Nadda's film,  Cairo Time.

Cairo Time’s (2010) plot is strikingly simple: a woman goes to Cairo to meet her husband for a vacation, but said husband (who works for the UN) gets tied up in Gaza, so his Egyptian friend chivalrously accompanies the woman around the city for a few days until her husband arrives. That’s it. No sudden twists, no sex, no violence. In fact, with such a basic storyline in which relatively little happens, it’s a wonder this film got made. It’s hard to imagine financiers eagerly agreeing to throw money behind a film that offers viewers none of the cheap gratification so easily found nowadays in movies. Yet Cairo Time somehow found funding, and it’s a damn good thing it did—it’s easily one of the best independent films of the year.

Though sparse and slow paced, the film’s plot functions as a blank canvas of sorts—the narrative gaps are vividly filled in with delicately nuanced performances and gorgeous cinematography. Canadian writer and director Ruba Nadda clearly has a strong personal connection to Cairo, for the film is crafted as a love letter to the Egyptian city: cinematographer Luc Montpellier’s camera lingers lovingly on bustling city streets and cafés, and sweeps across desert landscapes and the famous pyramids, capturing a palpable sense of awe in the face of such physical wonder.

The film rests entirely on its two leads: Patricia Clarkson as Juliette, the wife, and Alexander Siddig, as her husband’s friend who escorts Juliette around Cairo. Patricia Clarkson (Six Feet Under, The Station Agent, Shutter Island) is predictably excellent—anyone who has seen this remarkably versatile actress in any number of her other roles on both the small and large screen can attest to the ease with which she slips into her characters. In Cairo Time, her Juliette is an intriguing woman; she is both strong-willed and vulnerable, and while she is aware of the atrocities involved in the political quagmire that surrounds the Middle East, she keeps herself at a distance. Enter Tareq. Elegantly tall and slender, Juliette’s husband’s friend assumes a willing role of companion as he takes her on a boat ride, introduces her to locals, and shows her the sights.

Though the city itself is gorgeously shot, it quickly becomes nothing more than a backdrop to the relationship that emerges between Juliette and Tareq—tender and achingly real, and the true heart of the film. Though the two never share more than a kiss-on-the-cheek greeting, their connection is slowly and deftly explored, and by the end of the film—when only a few days in real time has passed—the unspoken affair becomes poignantly realized, something that feels familiar and worn-in.

Cairo Time is a small film in most respects: small budget, small cast, and small story. Yet on the strength and chemistry of its two leads, the film succeeds admirably. It is a truly rare film to find these days: an adult romance that lacks the pretension of an indie soundtrack and the schlock of Hallmark.