Huda El Mufti On Suits, Stardom and the Secret To Success
Set to be dominating cinema screens for the foreseeable future, the Egyptian actress tells Harper’s Bazaar Arabia how she feels about fame, family and false impressions
Huda El Mufti has a secret. Well, like any self-respecting 27-year-old, she probably has lots, but this one she’s about to show me. She disappears into her apartment, and returns with “the man who changed my life.” It is a rich oil painting, done by her, featuring a faceless figure surrounded by intense ochre brushstrokes. He is wearing what looks like a hooded sweatshirt. The title of the work is apt, as Huda explains: “I saw this man, this beggar, when I was 13 years old. He looked me right in the eye and told me I was going to be famous. I would go back and search for him all the time, but I never saw him again,” she recounts. Powerful, right?
He wasn’t wrong. Egyptian actress Huda is speaking to me from the floor of her Cairo apartment, effortlessly contorted into a relaxed yoga pose. She is bare-faced and periodically snacking on carrot sticks (she’d already been for breakfast with friends that day). She tells me that the air coming in through the window smells like “cinnamon and pepper”. It is not an unfamiliar scent, as Huda is a Cairo girl through-and-through. She describes the home she grew up in as full of warmth, love, comforting aromas of food, and lots of plants: “my mother had a wonderful garden, growing everything from tomatoes to potatoes”.
And to this day, it is still her older sister, Duha, who she cites as her best friend, confidante and ‘secret-keeper’. “We’re so different,” she tells me, “different goals, lifestyles – everything. But we’re so close. She would never misunderstand me, or judge me,” Huda says. “I can tell her anything.”
Huda has grown up to become a genuine movie star, and a glance at her social media sees her working with iconic brands like Dior, in places such as the gilded waters of Eden Roc on the French riviera. Her fame was almost instantaneous – following a critically acclaimed breakthrough role in TV show Haza Al Masaa (This Evening) in Ramadan 2017 – and she has multiple films interviews – but I’m not what they think about me. I am what I am. And I barely know myself!” she exclaims.
“I’m still exploring… my life, what I love… sometimes [fame] is really hard. Sometimes you just want some privacy; to go and walk through the streets and breathe, and you can’t. Even in a mask they recognise you,” she continues. However, there is a good side, too, Huda reassures me. “When people are happy to see you, and treat you a certain way, you feel good. You do feel successful.”
Her life now seems a far cry from the girl who used to eat her lunch in the washrooms at school, to avoid bullies. Her demons still exist, and have morphed from young girls in a playground, to people old enough to know better on social media. “People think you’re ‘out of their league’, or arrogant, because they see you in Paris and Rome or wherever,” she says. “They think you’re a bad person or something… before social media they couldn’t reach you. People didn’t know where people lived, they only saw what [celebrities] wanted them to see. But now when you miss a message because you didn’t see it or were busy, they curse you,” she laments.
“An artist.” Perhaps ‘actress’ at a push, but an artist is how Huda would label herself, and requests to be judged solely as such. It is only when I ask if she sees herself playing other people forever, that her eyes begin to glitter, and she tells me she also paints, and has taken courses in it (ever the professional). “I paint when I’m sad, I paint when I’m happy. It’s like meditation to me. I chill out, put music on and just paint whatever comes to me,” she reveals. Hence the picture of the life-changing man.
It’s not all she does. Following a period of ill health in December of 2020, Huda discovered dancing as rehabilitation for both mind and body. And this love was taken to new heights for an upcoming role in Marwan Hamed’s Kira & El Gin, which is based on Ahmed Mourad’s best-selling novel, 1919. In it, Huda plays a belly dancer, and trained intensely with choreographers for two months before filming began.
“It’s all about the hands, the eyes, the face and the shoulders,” she says, as she skillfully demonstrates some of the moves. “It’s very controlled. They used to dance with lit candles on their heads! But the crew wouldn’t let me do that incase I burned the set down,” she laughs.
For someone who readily admits that she has struggled with anxiety for much of her life, there is a distinct ease in the way Huda holds herself. As if she is fully in control of her body, while simultaneously surrendering to the path her personal God has in store for her – something she believes strongly in.
In fact ‘control’ is a recurrent theme in how Huda describes how she works, too. “I create the person. I am the creator. I become it. It is up to me how she is portrayed,” she says. Her roles to date have been varied, but smart. How does she pick them? “It depends of course on the story, the director, their perspective… but ultimately the character. Could I be them? Could I love them? Could I defend them? Even when they’re wrong or whether they’re villains?”
“My role in Suits was the most challenging,” she says. “I played the role of a victim of sexual harrassment. It was a very hard role because I had to display the many different and complex emotions of a sexually absued woman, and maybe remember some bad situations about real victims.”
There is no doubt that the world is a challenging place right now, and Huda surprises herself by admitting that helping others is what brings her the greatest sense of happiness. She is known for speaking out against injustice, and using her platform to elevate a plethora of issues. “Seeing people deprived of their basic rights and children being deprived of living a happy and normal childhood is what stimulates me to give them my voice,” she explains. “Celebrities have the power to influence people, so I use this advantage for good and to give a voice to the voiceless. Maybe one day, I will need others’ voices,”she adds.
Speaking of others, what advice does Huda have for her peers, looking to break into her field? “I am very happy that my generation is leading the way in the industry these days,” she enthuses. “I’d like to give Arab women hope and inspire them to accomplish their dreams.” Essentially, she says, it’s all about self-belief: “My secret to success is to be myself. I never try to imitate anyone as I feel confident about myself and am grateful for who I am… women now are being empowered more than ever, especially in our industry, both behind the camera as well as in front of it. I’m happy with the increasing number of works that are headlined by women and I hope I can be part of them in the near future,” she says.
And for someone to whom family is clearly so important, what is the best piece of advice Huda received on her stratospheric rise to stardom? “Don’t be sad,” she laughs. “Because I get upset with people writing things that aren’t true about me, or judging me… and they always say: ‘You know who you are, and you have a heart of gold.’” And she beams. Again, they’re not wrong.
Photography by Paul Morel. Styling by Daniel Gonzalez Elizondo.
Editor in Chief: Olivia Phillips. Art Director: Oscar Yanez. Creative Director: Marne Schwartz. Fashion Director: Anna Castan. Fashion Editor: Nour Bou Ezz. Producer: Johana Dana. Hair: Giannandrea Marongiu. Make-Up: Massimo Serini. Photographer’s Assistant: Nicolas Vanegas Sanchez at MM Productions. Stylist’s Assistant: Christian Marchesich. Special thanks to Lorenzo Esposito and Domus Borghese, Rome.
From Harper’s Bazaar Arabia’s June 2022 issue.