Waleed El Halfawy’s “Catalog” Is A Tender Portrait of Grief, Parenting, and Family Ties

Being the primary unit of socialization, the family provides a safe space for its members to survive and thrive, offering love, care, and attention regardless of their flaws. Much like an injured body part that affects the function of the whole, the loss of a family member, such as a parent, can cause grief and trauma, leading to profound changes in the lives of loved ones—with effects rippling into other aspects of their existence, from workplace to lifestyle and education. Egyptian filmmaker El Halfawy latches onto this idea in Catalog, an emotional dramedy that follows Youssef Elqady, who assumes full responsibility for his children, Karima and Mansour, following the death of their mother and his wife Amina from cancer. Set against the backdrop of the family system in modern Egypt, the eight-part Netflix series explores grief, love, romance, emotional abandonment, friendship, and the challenges of parenting in a contemporary African society.

Family relationships are central to the story, with relatives bonding despite differences in character, motivation, and action. As Youssef battles grief and struggles to care for his children, his business edges toward bankruptcy. He receives emotional support from his older brother, Hanafi, who also coaches Mansour’s local football team, and from Osama, Amina’s younger brother. In trying to meet his children’s physical and emotional needs, Youssef realizes just how much Amina had shielded him from his own shortcomings. Turning to her YouTube channel, Amina’s Catalog, for parental guidance, he begins navigating the maze of bereavement and single fatherhood. Later, when he names a software project after the channel, it serves as both a tribute to Amina and a testament to her lasting influence.

The series uses Youssef’s flaws to spotlight the expectations placed on fathers and mothers, emphasizing the importance of both roles in a child’s development. It warns against allowing career ambitions to erode marital and parental commitments. Before Amina’s passing, Youssef was largely absent from his children’s  and extracurricular lives—unaware of school schedules, neglectful of simple duties like packing lunch boxes, and generally disconnected. Yet, we see him make a conscious effort to improve, even remotely willing to get involved in conversations about puberty and girlhood with his daughter. His progress is threatened when he discovers Amina had secretly considered divorce before her death.

While Catalog guides viewers through the emotional terrain of loss, it also delivers welcome moments of levity. Deadpan humor and romance help soften the story’s somber tone, making it easier for the audience to absorb its themes. Every character that matters, from Hanafi to Osama and Youssef himself, carries a strange sense of humour that is both charming and irritating, but there seems to be no better way to coax the audience to take the messages to the bone than for the story not to be obsessed with itself. A standout comedic scene occurs when Youssef, attending his son’s training for the first time, assumes another father is a widower simply because he regularly watches his child play. The man corrects him, revealing he is still married. This moment pokes fun at Youssef’s assumptions while nudging African fathers toward deeper emotional engagement with their children beyond financial provision.

Another humorous highlight comes when Hanafi penalizes Mansour for arriving late to training, insisting Youssef join in the ten-lap punishment. When Youssef protests, Hanafi increases the count, which underscores the importance of accountability. The hiring of the eccentric nanny Um Hashem and Osama’s awkward first encounter with Youssef’s office assistant Hala provide additional comic relief that aid the plot. Despite her quirks, Um Hashem becomes the children’s confidante and a vital stabilizing force in the household. Osama, uncertain about his own future, drifts toward a tentative romance with the career-focused Hala. There is also a near-romance between Youssef and Howayda, the Karima’s teacher, whose own marriage has collapsed. Their guarded connection feels realistic and illustrates that rushing into a relationship after losing a spouse can be counterproductive. Catalog avoids overly sentimental love stories. Its romances are slow, measured, and tinged with doubt, denial, and hesitation.

However, the series offers limited plot breadth. Many scenes feel tailored for quick emotional impact rather than sustained dramatic development. Conflicts resolve quickly: Amina’s secret divorce plan causes brief tension without drastic changes; Mansour’s academic and football struggles become breakthroughs; Hanafi responds to cancer treatment soon after his secret condition is revealed. With no major twists or surprises, the story culminates in a forgettable happy ending. Even so, Catalog remains an affectionate ode to the close-knit family systems common in African societies. Without flashy pretensions, El Halfawy’s series joins the growing body of contemporary African cinema exploring the dynamics of family, love, and resilience.