Stepping into the spotlight: the cinema and the stars
A red carpet Premiere. Photo: Kathryn Bromwich
Armed with paper and a pen, Kathryn Bromwich hits the red carpet at Cannes in style to give an exclusive account of the films, the celebrities and the old-time glamour
Cannes is best described as overwhelming. There is an overwhelming amount of side-festivals and projects, shown in an overwhelming number of venues scattered around Cannes, amounting to an overwhelming number of films and overwhelmingly large crowds. The overwhelmingly long queues are made worse by the overwhelming heat.
Thankfully, there is also overwhelming talent. Through the years, the Festival has shown artistic integrity, consistently bringing exceptional films to the public’s attention and rounding up the best directors from around the globe. Resplendent with memories of Hitchcock, Grace Kelly, Bridget Bardot and Cary Grant, Cannes is the ideal place for a film festival. There are film-reel-shaped telephone boxes, sculptures of cameras and innumerable celebrity hand imprints. There are palm trees, a sandy beach, picturesque mountains across the bay, and the Palais du Festival towering over the shore: it has the charm of a European city, the beauty of the Côte d’Azur and the glamour of Hollywood.
It’s a daunting task to organise yourself in this temporary centre of the world. The schedules are misleading, the venues are hidden in obscure places and it takes a few days to figure out what I’m allowed to see and when. Little knowing what to expect, I applied for accreditation as a ‘cinéphile’ (film enthusiast) and once there I am given a shiny white badge that gets me into films for free – but it’s the coloured badges that are all-powerful. There are people walking around trying to look nonchalant about their round lilac badges with ‘VIP’ all over them. In order for us humble white badges to see the films in the Official Competition we need an ‘invitation’. This is not quite as glamorous as it sounds; in reality, it means queuing at ungodly hours of the morning or begging for a spare ticket. The competition to get a good spot for premieres is pitiless, with people camping outside for the evening’s red carpet extravaganza. However, the queuing is worth it. Standing in line for an hour and getting in is preferable to arriving fashionably late and getting turned away.
Streetside movie screens. Photo: Kathryn Bromwich
Cannes is a community with its own social conventions. Pleasingly, people clap at the end of films – something I think I’ll start to do in normal cinemas. The ultimate embodiment of Cannes is probably the Cinéma de la Plage: nightly screenings of past Palme d’Or winners on a beach screen. Sitting in a deckchair watching the visually spectacular and darkly hilarious Wild at Heart (1990’s winner), which is punctuated by the splash of waves as the screen ripples gently in the night breeze, is an experience as surreal as it is unforgettable.
Despite the artsy films, there is some inevitable gaudiness around. Chihuahuas peep out of Louis Vuitton bags, the main street only has shops such as Bulgari and Chanel, VIP beach parties positively ooze exclusivity, and ageing playboys whiz past in Ferraris with dazzling blondes. U2 reach new levels of intolerability and use Cannes to promote a 3D concert; so if you are so inclined, you can now almost touch Bono. I was expecting worse, however, as most people leisurely stroll around or enjoy the beach. The crowds are predominantly French, with a few cynical film students, American tourists and bohemian-looking middle-aged men. There are break-dancing acts, mimes with cats, endless ice cream stands and live music. Cannes is alive.
If, like me, you were expecting Nicole Kidman casusally walking around chatting with fans, you’ll find yourself mistaken. But it is possible to see celebrities. A crowd stands stubbornly around the Martinez Hotel, hoping to spot stars. I stop by to see what the fuss is about and, lo and behold, Andie McDowell trots out of a dark car and into the hotel, not before posing for a photo or 10. But it’s the premieres that people go to Cannes for. For Zodiac, I catch a glimpse of lovely Jake Gyllenhaal, cool Chloe Sevigny and the epitome of French grace, Juliette Binoche. The next day I see Leonardo di Caprio – remarkably striking in person – promoting his eco-friendly 11th Hour. Photographers scream and girls giggle. Considering all the stars do is smile and wave, there isn’t much to see – but when you’re there it’s all rather exciting.
Quentin Tarantino & Zoe Bell. Photo: Kathryn Bromwich
Michael Winterbottom’s out-of-competition A Mighty Heart attracts Angelina and Brad, whom I see for a second before the crowds go unanimously crazy and climb over the barriers. However, Pitt is dashing and suave, and Jolie is a picture of glowing elegance – judging from my glimpse, she really is one of the most beautiful women in the world. The film is less impressive. A tear-jerker about the search for kidnapped journalist Daniel Pearl, it’s not particularly well acted or intriguing. On the plus side, it illustrates the difficulty of communicating with people of different ideologies. At its worst, it is reminiscent of cheap reporting; glorifying the widow’s grief for the viewers’ delectation. Not, overall, a film I recommend.
At the time of writing, the favourite for the Palme d’Or is 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, directed by Cristian Mungiu. Said to be stunningly beautiful, but almost too gruelling to watch because of its tragic realism, it depicts the story of a Romanian student who is forced to accept terrifying conditions to secure an illegal abortion. The other favourite is the Coen brothers’ No Country For Old Men, apparently their best film in years: a tragic western about drugs, money and disillusionment that critics claim is pure art. David Fincher makes a deep impact with the feverishly anticipated Zodiac, a thriller based on the true story of a murderer, rumoured to be one of his best films. Tarantino’s Death Proof, about a stuntman with an indestructible car who kills voluptuous women, is set to be absurd but entertaining. Wong Kar Wai’s first excursion into English-language film with My Blueberry Nights, about Norah Jones going on a road trip around America, is a colossal disappointment. Emir Kusturica enters with Zavet in a bid for what would be an unprecedented third Palme d’Or. Ulrich Seidl’s Import/Export is the token controversial film, portraying the bleakness of European life with shocking images and overwhelming pessimism. Michael Moore’s documentary on America’s health service, Sicko, is out-of-competition. The American government is nervous about it, the reviews have been glowing; a kill-for-a-ticket occasion.
The first and only film in the Official Competition that I manage to see is Gus van Sant’s impressive Paranoid Park, which explores guilt and conscience as a jaded 16-year-old skater accidentally kills a security guard. Eastside ‘Paranoid’ Park is infamous as a hang-out for misfit skateboarders from dysfunctional families: skateboarding is a form of escapism – and van Sant’s slow motion shots of the skaters supported by beautiful music makes it seem like a form of postmodern ballet. The actors are untrained and unknown, which van Sant says makes them more malleable. It works. While some of the minor characters appear strained, the protagonist, played by Gabe Nevins, gives an understated and affecting performance. The close-up shots of bridges and parks are achingly stunning and are complemented by an evocative soundtrack of Johnny Cash, hardcore punk and elegant French electronica. Loosely based on Crime and Punishment, it captures the feeling of remorse with sincerity and poise.
Nanni Moretti.. Photo: Kathryn Bromwich
One of the highlights of the smaller ‘Un Certain Regard’ category is set to be Mister Lonely, in which Samantha Morton plays a Marilyn Monroe impersonator who falls for a Michael Jackson look-alike. In the same category is Daniele Luchetti’s Mio Fratello É Figlio Unico (My Brother is an Only Child), a touching story of two brothers growing up near Rome in the 1960s, one of communist inclination, the other being slowly drawn into fascism. The acting is funny and spontaneous and feels typically, realistically Italian. I go to the first screening of the day, hoping that rugged bad-boy Riccardo Scamarcio will make an appearance, but alas, the cast and director go to the evening show, where the film is greeted by a 10-minute standing ovation.
I succeed in getting a place to see Control, one of the most acclaimed films at Cannes this year. Directed by Dutch photographer Anton Corbijn, it is a biopic of Joy Division’s troubled leader Ian Curtis. Newcomer Sam Riley bears an uncanny resemblance to Curtis and performs his awkward, robotic stage moves with crushing intensity. The film follows Curtis’s soul-consuming desire for fame, the shock of too-sudden stardom and his tormented love-hate relationships. The biopic is thankfully neither over-sentimental nor grovelling, while the atmospheric black and white shots capture the grimness of Northern England during Thatcherism with understated clarity.
On Sunday, I am torn between watching No Country For Old Men, and the premiere of Chacun son Cinéma (To Each His Own Cinema); a collection of three-minute films by 35 legendary directors, all set in cinemas. I choose the latter and find myself an advantageous viewing position at the premiere, just in front of where the cars arrive. I almost die from the stifling heat, but I choose right.
This is the most glamorous night of the Festival, celebrating Cannes’ 60th Anniversary. Celebrities abound: from Gong Li to Claudia Cardinale to Gérard Depardieu. The 35 directors arrive on foot in small groups – passing directly in front of me. They are some of the most influential directors of the past century, la crème de la crème of cinema: Ken Loach, David Cronenberg, Jane Campion, Nanni Moretti, Alejandro González Iñárritu, the Coens, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, Roman Polanski, Kar Wai Wong – to name a few. It is surreal. Michael Moore arrives to tumultuous applause, followed by Helen Mirren looking radiant in yellow, and the absolutely charming Gael García Bernal. Sharon Stone, confident, statuesque and unattainably beautiful, makes a grand entrance in a shimmering silk dress. But it is Alain Delon who gets the prestigious last arrival and the most cheers, closing the night with fitting old-time glamour.
Purists say that film can never hope to be what it used to – but today, the world of cinema is dynamic, prolific and full of potential. The artwork on the Palais, showing some exceptional actors and directors jumping with joy, vividly represents the vitality of cinema. Modern cinema is different, but not necessarily worse. What films may have lost in glamour and mystery, they have gained in new technologies, plot complexity and non-linear narratives. As the world changes, cinema changes with it. And that is how it should be.
7 responses below. Comments are open.
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Well written article
From Melita Morgan
Playing Madonna in Mister Lonely x x
Especially as it doesn’t mention the bit part eh?!!
You’re hardly in it!! Anyone would think you had a major part!!! Would much rather a comment from Samantha Morton, or a at least an established actress!!
It was inevitable that this great director would have raving reviews for this Movie. I remember when Harmony Korine hit the headlines at a very young age it was obvious that he would blossom in this way. What has fascinated me the most is Melita Morgan one of the fine actresses in the film has had the courtesy to acknowledge this fine review in this forum, is that really her? If so, what a shining example for up and coming actors and actresses in the UK about not letting International exposure go to ones head. I have had my share of stage work on a local basis in East Anglia and now we see a Norfolk girl hitting the headlines around here in a big way. If you read this Melita I would be delighted to have you attend one of our Theatre Workshops to perhaps speak to our young actors here, It would be delightful to meet you also (Here’s hoping) It’s so sad to see a childish and negative response concerning Sarah’s post, I personally would have been speechless to be in a film directed by Mr Korine.
RE: Sarahs comment. What a strange thing to say do you know Melita. Er no probably not. However who r you to say she had a bit part, were you there? If not YOU r in for a shock honey.
Godddd!!! I’M SO SICK OF THIS WOMAN – WHEN IS SHE GONNA GET HER HEAD OUT OF HER ARSE?! She’s SUCH a NOBODY!!
Kathryn:
I’m making making a doc about cannes and say your picture of the wide shot of the red carpet. Do you take the pic from the jumbo screen? I’m looking for a high quality wide shot like that.
Thanks,
Mark Shepherd