‘Spring Came On Laughing’: Cairo Review

Dir/scr: Noha Adel. Egypt/France. 2024. 96mins

Simple conversations swiftly descend into explosive confrontations in Spring Came On Laughing. Noha Adel’s Cairo-set debut feature shatters the sunny surface of disparate female lives to reveal the snakepit of tortured emotions lurking beneath. The subjects covered have some range (love, marriage, betrayal, jealousy etc) but the approach is unvarying. The lack of light and shade and the unrelenting, fever pitch cacophony of many scenes make for a challenging watch, potentially limiting the film’s wider appeal after a world premiere at the Cairo International Film Festival.

A bitter-tasting set of stories

Adel’s follow-up to her short films Into Reverse (2017) and Once Upon A Time In The Cafe (2020) takes its title from a quatrain by Egyptian poet Salah Jahin that begins ’Spring came on laughing but finds me in sorrow’. Adel combines four spring tales and an autumnal epilogue into an anthology that begins with an initially mild-mannered encounter as Salwa (Sally Abdou) and her daughter Reem (Reem Safwat) take afternoon tea with elderly neighbour Mukhtar (Mukhtar Younis) and his son Shady (Shady Hakim). The conversation is polite and relaxed as they discuss poets, singers and fond memories from their shared past. Then, a bombshell proposal is made, and it is as if war has been declared.

The subsequent tales reach backward through the months. In May, a birthday lunch for Zazou (Rehab Anan) also becomes a battleground as a misunderstanding escalates, accusations are made, friendships are sacrificed and horrified onlookers become innocent bystanders to bared fangs and vicious insults. In April, a visit to a hectic beauty parlour changes in an instant when beautician Abeer (Reem Al Aqqad) is accused of theft. Grievances are aired and home truths are voiced. In March, bride Lili (Carol Ackad) has her big day ruined by the arrival of Kawthar (Kawthar Younis), the one bridesmaid her mother had expressly forbidden. Once again, a convivial gathering becomes a no-holds barred bloodsport.

The four main stories are effective enough individually and laced with some welcome elements of black comedy. Collectively they are repetitive and overwrought, covering similar ground of resentments, revelations, outrage, bitchy gossip, misunderstandings and inconstant men. The seemingly happy lives are always full of misery once you start digging a little deeper.

Adel and producer/actor Kawthar Younis have assembled a largely female crew for the film. Cinematographer Sara Yahia adds to the feeling of chaos being unleashed by keeping the camera mobile and advancing into the heart of any dispute. Individuals are edged out of the picture or obscured and the camera itself becomes a character, whipping between individuals and trying to keep up with whomever is speaking or entering the fray.

The overlapping dialogue almost feels Altman-esque, but every situation accelerates from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds and then settles at the same level of headache-inducing hysteria. The emotional incontinence, bitter disputes and public displays of disdain grow tiresome when there is little respite or balancing moments. The performances are equally dialled up, with Rehab Anan and Reem Al Aqqad firing both barrels as they play the hurt and anger of their respective characters to the hilt.

Adel has stated her desire to give a voice to women whose complex emotional lives are often marginalised. It is an honourable intention but her decision to constantly highlight division over solidarity and discord over harmony makes for a bitter-tasting set of stories. In the end, you are left thinking that less might have achieved more.