The title of director Karim Shaaban’s short film, I Don’t Care if the World Collapses, is suggestive of a defeatist thought. It might conjure expectations of a burnt-out character surrendering to whatever pressures culminate in such a sentiment. Instead, there’s an urgent energy in Shaaban’s story to not let the world fall apart, that provokes the audience’s quiet exasperation about a world spinning on a capitalist axis that often gives rise to cynicism.
On a one-day commercial shoot, elderly first-time-actor Farouk (Emad Rashad) is fulfilling his lifelong dream when he receives a heartbreaking phone call, compelling him to leave the set. If he does leave, the day will be lost, resulting in obvious financial repercussions for everyone involved, as well as professional repercussions for its director (Amir Salaheldin). In the middle of this unexpected turn of events, the ambitious young producer Loubna (Salma Abu Deif) tries to stop their world from falling apart.
The inspiration for the film comes from a similar experience Shaaban experienced working on a commercial he directed in 2021. He explains, “the violent, dark side of the job prevailed as the producers convinced him to stay, and this experience made me reflect on the capitalistic world that we live in and how detached from reality we became”. I Don’t Care if the World Collapses is a personal reflection turned into a dramatically engaging story, that will resonate with audiences who have seen this dark side of human nature slink into many a workplace.
Shaaban doesn’t lean into sympathising with Farouk’s personal tragedy, instead he makes the stakes for each side relatable. At once, we understand that Farouk should leave, but we also understand the director’s anxiety, whose future is in jeopardy. This sparks an intentional moral conflict in the audience, as Shaaban positions us to ask ourselves what would we do in this situation? Would we be humanists or capitalists? Then, in the drama itself, the director’s
At a glance, the director’s lack of empathy is affronting, and Loubna’s manipulation is disquieting, but their actions are a result of an inflexible and unforgiving system, in which schedules and budgets supersede common decency. I Don’t Care if the World Collapses is a critique of how we’ve lost touch with our humanity, in a Faustian-like deal with capitalism.
How the story unfolds recalls the US Republican Party’s attitude to smile one’s troubles away in the aftermath of the 1929 Wall Street Crash. Beneath Farouk’s smiles, as he stays on set to shoot the ice cream commercial, his pain is obvious. He disguises it well, but the client requests that he smile more. Shaaban is having a dig at the disingenuous happiness commercials try to sell consumers, by showing the unflattering behind-the-scenes reality.
I Don’t Care if the World Collapses has a conscience, and yet, Shaaban refrains from judging Loubna or her director. She shows us a self-awareness that’s missing from her colleagues and the quiet expression of regret delivers the film’s ultimate condemnation in which Loubna is the one who finds herself in the moral cross hares. It’s left to the audience to decide how to judge the cast of characters. There’s no denying Loubna has a heart, and the way the story plays out builds less to a twist, more a confirmation of a suspicion that sees her sacrificed in order for Shaaban to make his moral stand. The words I Don’t Care if the World Collapses are an instinctive or impulsive thought – like our heartbeat, they’re the regular rhythm of exasperation and loss of hope in society.
I Don’t Care if the World Collapses premiered at the Cleveland International Film Festival.
