I know what you’re thinking: Cannes ended a month ago, which makes this file unusually late for me, given my usual publishing habits. But I assure, there is some method in this madness (and if you’re interested in a more immediate post-mortem, check out this piece I did for the good people at Crooked Marquee). First of all, one could argue Cannes actually ended for me two days ago, when I saw the third OSS 117 movie – this year’s closing film – in the cinema (I had to skip the Cannes screening due to my vaccination schedule).
Another factor is, it basically took me a month to process the fact that Cannes actually happened, and under the circumstances in which it took place. To put it bluntly: it took me a month to come to terms with the fact that neither myself nor anyone I know got sick during the event, given the festival’s inconsistent health protocols: a Covid certificate was required only to enter the Palais, while the movie theaters were freely accessible (and allowed to be filled to capacity). The lone exception was the Buñuel and Bazin auditoriums, which are inside the Palais, with no external entrances – an acquaintance of mine chose to only watch movies in those theaters, as it reduced the chances of running into unvaccinated or untested people.
Similarly, the mask situation was far from ideal, to the extent that after a few days Pierre Lescure – the festival’s president – had to record a voiceover reminding everyone to keep their mouth and nose covered throughout every single screening (this still didn’t stick with some people: one unmasked attendee chose to leave the cinema altogether when I pointed out he ought to be following protocol). As for the testing facility… well, that one actually worked perfectly, although it quickly dawned on everyone that the best strategy was to schedule the swabs every 36 hours instead of 48.
In other words, it was a bit chaotic. As the French would put it, c’était le bordel, it was a mess. But honestly, Cannes has always been a mess (just ask anyone with lower badge priority when it comes to queueing for highly anticipated films), so it was refreshing, in a way, to see that even in times of imposed rigor things still had a penchant for going off the rails.
In fact, as far as the Cannes head honchos were concerned, it was very much business as usual: rather than cutting down on the number of films shown, like Venice and Berlin did in recent months, the French festival added a whole new section, with over a dozen more movies compared to previous editions. As a result, scheduling was a bit of a nightmare.
The films themselves, however, were far from nightmarish, at least in terms of the actual viewing experience (well, save for a few slogs that recalled Roger Ebert’s maxim that no good film is too long, and no bad film is short enough). I’ll always have fond memories of the first time I got to see The Souvenir: Part II, or Benedetta, or even some of the less memorable titles: disappointing thought it may have been, Sean Penn’s Flag Day did at least unite most of the attending press in thinking that it wasn’t as bad as the director’s previous effort, the appalling The Last Face.
But my fondest memory is perhaps tied to the very first screening, Mark Cousins’The Story of Film: A New Generation. There was a massive line outside the Debussy theater (don’t get me started on social distancing), and because it was the very first showing the organizational aspects were still a bit lacking, with the film starting late. And yet, once Thierry Frémaux and Cousins made their way to the stage to welcome everyone back into the cinema after a whole calendar year with no Cannes, it felt like being home again. A messy home, mind you, but home, nonetheless. A month later, I still can’t quite believe it really happened. But overall, I’m glad it did. Yes, we Cannes!