At this year’s Cannes Film Festival in May, an unexpected film stirred deep emotion and admiration among international audiences. It wasn’t a world premiere or a major production from a famed director, but rather a restored 1957 Iraqi film, Said Effendi, that left viewers stunned by its beauty, artistry, and historical depth.
The film, directed by Kameran Hosni, follows the story of Said Effendi and his family, who are evicted from their home by a landlord and forced to move into a working-class neighborhood in Baghdad. As they attempt to integrate into a new community, tensions among the children strain their relationships with neighbors. Despite its intimate, domestic themes, the film captured universal struggles – displacement, dignity, and the challenge of rebuilding identity.
A landmark in Iraqi cinema
When it was first released, Said Effendi marked a milestone in Iraqi cinema, becoming the first Iraqi film to be screened internationally at the 1958 Moscow Film Festival, and later in Paris. Yet for decades, both the film and its director faded into obscurity, becoming little more than a footnote in film history. At Cannes this year, the film’s restoration revealed a lost chapter in Iraq’s cultural memory, captivating an audience who had never heard Kameran Hosni’s name before.
The rediscovery and restoration of Said Effendi is part of a national cultural initiative known as the Iraqi Cinematheque project. Launched in late 2024, the project is supervised by the al-Hasan bin al-Haytham Committee for the Iraqi Visual Memory under the Iraqi Prime Minister’s Office. It is funded by France’s Ministry of Europe and Foreign Affairs and implemented by Expertise France.
Wareth Kwaish, manager of the Cinematheque project, sees the initiative as both an artistic and archival responsibility. “One of the highlights of this initiative is the restoration of the iconic Said Effendi by director Kameran Hosni,” Kwaish told Kurdistan Chronicle. “We selected it to promote the project and Iraq’s cinematic legacy. Reviving a seven-decade-old masterpiece with astonishing clarity felt like reintroducing a lost voice to the world.”
The film was meticulously restored in 4K resolution, and its original frames were cleaned and color-graded to preserve both its technical quality and emotional resonance.
Beyond restoring Said Effendi, the Iraqi Cinematheque project aims to digitize and preserve approximately 100 classic films currently housed in archives across Iraq. Kwaish emphasizes that the project is not only about saving films but reclaiming national identity through visual storytelling. Significantly, the initiative also extends to Kurdish cinema, which remains largely undocumented within Baghdad’s existing archives. “Although no Kurdish film archive has been identified in Baghdad yet, we are actively searching for classical Kurdish films and seeking Kurdish partners and archives,” Kwaish said.
He noted that plans are in motion to screen Said Effendi publicly across Iraq, aiming to introduce the film to a younger generation largely unfamiliar with both the work and its director. A series of avant-premiere screenings is expected to begin soon.
In April this year, the Iraqi government announced the launch of the Iraq Film Fund, with a budget of approximately $4 million. The initiative aims to establish a comprehensive film industry that covers all aspects of production, from writing and directing to distribution.
Remembering Kameran Hosni
Hosni, the film’s director, was a pioneering Iraqi Kurdish filmmaker born in Kirkuk. A visionary of his time, Hosni moved to Baghdad to pursue his passion for cinema and later earned a master’s degree in film directing from the University of California. His thesis, The Impact of Technological Advancement on Acting Styles, demonstrated his deep engagement with both cinematic theory and practical craft.
Upon returning to Iraq in 1955, Hosni joined the Baghdad Institute of Fine Arts as a lecturer, urging his students to be, as he often said, “loyal to their art – and through it, to their audience.” He also launched the film magazine Cinema, creating a rare platform for critical discussion of the medium in Iraq.
In 1956, Hosni directed his debut film Said Effendi, a landmark in Iraqi cinematic history. He would go on to direct two more films – Marriage Project and Room No. 7 (produced in Lebanon) – before his career was abruptly cut short.
Naser Hassan, 78, a veteran Kurdish actor, director, and former head of cinema in the Kurdistan Region, remembers Hosni as a foundational figure. “Kameran was passionate about making films that reflected real life and society – not political propaganda,” Hasan told Kurdistan Chronicle. “After returning from the United States, he brought with him a love for Italian Neorealism. His debut, Said Effendi, was shot entirely on location along Rashid Street and in Haydar-Khana, Baghdad. No artificial sets, no rehearsed scripts – just the truth of daily life.”
Hassan describes Said Effendi as one of the finest Iraqi films to this day. Its impact was immediate and unprecedented. “In 1958, the film was shortlisted for the top prize at the Moscow Festival and was later screened in Paris at the Arab Film Institute,” he said. “It marked Iraq’s entry into international cinema.”
From realism to repression
Despite this success, Hosni’s career was soon derailed by the political climate. Accused of communist sympathies, he was marginalized professionally and eventually forced to abandon filmmaking. “The political pressures were too much,” Hassan recalled. “He opened a restaurant in Baghdad just to survive.”
Disillusioned, Hosni left Iraq in the early 1970s and returned to the United States. He briefly visited Baghdad in 1998 but did not stay. He died in Los Angeles in 2004, far from the cinema culture he once helped to shape.
Hassan sees Kameran’s fate as a symbol of how Iraq’s political system stifled its greatest talents and silenced authentic voices in cinema.
Naser explained that successive Iraqi governments destroyed the Iraqi film industry, in particularly the Ba’athist regime under the rule of Saddam Hussein.
“When Saddam came to power, he nationalized everything, including the film industry,” Hassan recalls. “It became a tool of the state.” Under the Ba’ath regime, artistic freedom collapsed. Filmmakers could no longer tell stories – they were told what stories to tell.
“They claimed to support cinema,” Hassan says, “but all they made were political films – propaganda designed to glorify Saddam, his wars, and his agenda.”
One such production was the 1981 epic Al-Qadisiyya, a film meant to celebrate Arab military triumphs over Persians in 640 AD. The government poured $16 million into its budget – a staggering sum at the time – hoping it would impress global audiences. But it didn’t.
“They tried to get it into Cannes,” Naser notes. “But Cannes rejected it, calling it racist.” In a bizarre twist, the government even launched a cigarette brand named after the film – distributing it for free as part of the state propaganda machine.
The collapse of a national cinema
Even after the fall of the Ba’ath regime in 2003, the cinema industry has struggled to recover.
He speaks with the weight of experience. Investors have approached him with tempting offers – one even promised a million-dollar budget. The catch? “They said I must guarantee one million dollars in ticket sales. But that’s impossible now.”
The issue, Hassan says, isn’t talent or ambition – it’s trust. “People don’t pay to watch Iraqi films. They’ve lost faith. Most cinemas have either shut down, been converted into stores, or demolished altogether.”
In the early 1980s, Hassan conducted a survey: Baghdad had 32 cinemas. Now? “Almost all of them are gone. And the government has done nothing to stop that. No compensation, no protection.
“Going to the cinema used to be a family tradition. I went with my father and mother. In Khanaqin, a small town where he was born, we had five cinema halls. Now there’s not even one,” he explains.
Yet he remains hopeful that, one day, true Iraqi cinema can rise again – not as a tool of politics, but as a voice for the people. And when it does, the stories of men like Kameran Hosni will finally be told – not in whispers, but on the silver screen.
Qassim Khidhir has 15 years of experience in journalism and media development in Iraq. He has contributed to both local and international media outlets.
