Many of us who viewed Egyptian dance films during the 1940s were unaware of the power and destruction of the Egyptian censors. Large segments of dances were edited out, and only the more sedate portions were left intact. Motion pictures undoubtedly made an incredible impact on the entertainers who made their living in Vaudeville houses or casinos. It can only be assumed that a dancer, although she might have been an incredible dancer, might not have been chosen to be star because she was not photogenic. On the other hand, the girl who was photogenic and not necessarily a good dancer, might have been the one chosen to star.

So, what are we looking at in the old time movies? We must consider that we are watching a dance form which was generally repressed and not acceptable to so-called “good” families. In the past a dancer might only be hired for festivals and private parties, but in movies she would be viewed by the masses. If a dancer was noted for her lascivious delivery or spectacular gyrations (or, as I’ve heard was often the case, her dance in the nude), she was certainly not the one to be chosen for a “family” movie. And yet, she might have been the better dancer.

In early Edison movie documentary from the Chicago World’s Faire in 1893, a dancer was filmed who gyrates uninhibitedly, unbelievably, in an ecstatic solo. I don’t believe I’ve evern seen anyone dance with such abandon before or since. I myself have seen dancers in person with movements which have yet to be defined.; however, I never saw these movements in any of the old Egyptian movies.

So, has the dance changed since the turn of the century and the advent of movies? I think so! I think what might have been viewed in private was beyond description, and dancers of old were more noted for muscle control feats visible only in the salons of the wealthy. The movies might have even set a precedent for prudery which respectful dancers emulated. In an attempt to appeal to a broader but conservative public, the movie producers probably asked the dancers to “tone it down” for fear of alienating the family which, to the bottom line, would simply mean bad box office sales.

When I first saw Tahia Carioca and Samia Gamal in the early films, it was truly a time of innocence. Never before had so many people seen these Egyptian mega-stars except in movie theaters. Now, forty-one years later, I look back and reminisce; but I also realize that what I saw on the screen might not have been a true representation of uninhibited dance. Just as today, if a dancer shows her bare midriff, arms, and legs, she will not be able to perform in most parts of Saudi Arabia, nor will her dance videos be permitted to be sold unless she “covers up”. It wouldn’t be difficult to conclude that this kind of suppression would result in a change of attitude toward the dance and in a stifling of certain movements which might raise conservative eyebrows.

In the films of the forties, Tahia Carioca was modest. She exuded an Egyptian ideal in face and form. Whatever she danced did not seem imitable; even if you could move like her, you could never look like her. Samia Gamal had a very unusual presentation. Her body would twist like the hand on a metronome with half circles, mostly front. In her interpretation of the song “Zeina”, her hips flutter the staccato of the violins, defying analysis. She loved to play with her skirts. Among her many dance signatures was her petulant pout. It was the era of the screen goddess; and she was one of the dancers who reigned almost as a deity.