Cannes Film Festival Day Seven

I woke up around 7:30 to go watch the first film of the day, And Then We Danced. And Then We Danced? you ask. Have you not already seen it? ...yes, I have. And I love that film. Honestly it’s been the only film I’ve seen here so far that stirred any kind of need to see it again, so I did. I was going to say I saw it again just so I could take better notes and write a review (I am probably going to write a review), but really I just wanted to see it again, because I miss it. 

And guess what? The lead actor sat next to me when we watched it. Did not know it was him until he left the theater. He was laughing at my reactions the whole movie. So that happened. Seriously one of the most amazing things ever, because this movie is a new favorite (if not the favorite) of mine, and to have that happen is just once in a lifetime for me. 

After that, Rachel and I went to see Chinese Portrait, which we thought was a documentary but was actually a “cinematic painting.” Let me promise you, a “cinematic painting” is a code for a very good nap. It just was not a film, and I’m kind of confused as to its point or goal at all. 

After the “film,” Rachel and I went back to Starbucks to work on some schoolwork (I have no regrets I can’t even pretend) and plan out the films we wanted to see. I was supposed to see a film at 6:00, but after reading the synopsis of the film Rachel was going to see at 8:00, I decided that I needed to go with her instead. 

We went back to the Marché and ran into Audrey and hung out for awhile talking about the festival and just the industry in general, as well as the films we’ve been seeing, which was really nice. Then we headed to Galaxy 360 (after being trapped in the bowels of the Palais and being convinced that we might actually die there so that was fun). 

When we got there, the director showed up and gave us bracelets and just was so much fun to talk to and hang out with. She came into the theater with us and watched the whole film. This ended up being an issue because the film was akin to a hostage situation where I felt too awkward to leave. I would write a review about how bad the film was, but it almost seems too easy to even do that. 

PS (and this is long so feel free to bounce if you don’t feel like reading) - I’ve been thinking a lot about what movies I’ve been liking and which ones I have not been liking. Everyone that I saw Port Authority with (except for Rachel, but that’s just because we share the same wavelength. Please read her review on Port Authority, highly recommend) loved it, and kept talking about how they loved the cinematography, the directing, the colors, the score, the small moments. And I think that’s kind of when I realized that I can’t subsist on beautiful small moments. 

I have a background and passion for television primarily (don’t get me wrong, I love films and consume them but have no intention of going exclusively into filmmaking), and television is about the story. Yes, it’s a commercial racket (trust me, I’ve written so much on this and other forms of television commodification), but ultimately, television cannot exist without deeper stories. Without characters you care about, without plots that progress, a television show would have absolutely nothing. 

Another thing about television that I’ve noticed is not really as much in the ideal of filmmaking is the audience. So many films here just feel like they were made and then released, with the hope that someone somewhere might like it. Ignoring the audience, or thinking that an audience does not matter, is just such a foreign concept to me. Sometimes I think the audience is the most important thing, because do you really have a voice if you’re not talking to anyone? 

That’s how Port Authority felt to me. It didn’t seem to care about the audience for which it ostensibly was made, rather caters entirely to a straight, white audience as a congratulatory piece of “diverse” cinema. Meanwhile, the films I have actually loved, like And Then We Danced, Flawless, and A Regular Woman, were made with a specific message and story that allowed audiences to latch onto these films without pandering to them in an attempt to other their subject matter. 

I’ve seen beautiful films here, don’t get me wrong. Amazing directing, acting, cinematography, the whole nine yards. And I’ve enjoyed them, and could write a review of how technically stunning a film was. But as someone who does not want to be a director, cinematographer, or any part of the “art” of a film, for me, a film is about the audience, and the relationship a film can have with them. I don’t want to walk out of a movie and have the first thing out of my mouth be about the colors, or the lighting, even though that may be stunning. I want to have the need to sit in the theater with everyone else who just experienced what I have and let the credits roll because you don’t want to go back to a world that was not that film just quite yet. That, for me, is what makes a great film.