Oh you wanted a joke in the headline? Something like “Cannes’t Hardly Wait” or “I Just Cannes’t Get Enough?” How about “Heine-cannes?”
Fuck you.
Finished up work for the season, jumped on a plane on Tuesday, and landed in Nice on Wednesday. Met up with Elliott and John, who I’d be spending the week with.
Cannes ‘06 Rules:
1. You need a badge of some sort.
At first, the security really has no idea what’s going on. They let you in wherever if you look important and walk briskly by them. However, by Day 2 they ask for your badge and seem to enjoy denying you entry. They say things like “It is impossible.” Or “I’m sorry, it is finished.” It doesn’t help if you know French, which I do. I used John’s badge if I wanted to go inside somewhere. I look nothing like his photo on the badge, but I would pop my collar to help the French security think we all Americans look alike.
2. If you have friends in Acquisitions at a studio, there are no rules. Make friends with people in Acquisitions.
To reserve tickets to a screening, you have to call or do it online. And you only get one ticket. When a movie plays at a festival, the producers want many potential buyers to come see it. So they give tons of tickets to the Acquisitions departments, along with handjobs and salt water taffy. They also have outrageous parties on the Croisette to show how much fun their movies are. I guess if it’s a fun party, your movie must be good. A business card from Acquisitions at a major studio will allow you to get even the scruffiest men - and many of them - inside any party on the Croisette.
3. Blue tickets = you don’t need a badge. Orange tickets = you need a badge.
I learned this from a French tourist who begged to trade me blue for orange. I borrowed John’s badge and reserved a ticket to the premiere of Southland Tales. It was orange. However, Elliott showed up with two blue tickets that were, joyfully, better seats. He is the slickest. We gave away the orange ticket to a lovely young lady and clung to the blues like Wonkavision. A tuxedoed, very old Frenchman pointed at the badge around my neck and at my ticket. “Please trade - I give back to you. You have badge.” (that reads as a poor Russian accent. Hm.) For some reason I believed him and traded tickets. Sure enough, the guards asked to see my badge and let the tourist in no problem. We both marched up the red carpet to the Palais as if we were old lovers. And maybe we were. My French homes even gave me back my blue ticket at the top of the stairs. He seemed grateful. We smiled, let our hands slip away, and fell into the darkness.
4. If the ticket says “Tuxedo, Dress suit” (Smoking, Tenue de soiree), wear a fucking tux.
Elliott is a stylish guy. Often clad in black, accentuated by the makeup lining his eyes, he looks stylish in everything. When we went to the premiere of Shortbus past midnight Friday night, our Victorian Pirate outfits fit in perfectly with the pansexual, youthful crowd attending. However the ticket said Tenue de Fête / Party Attire. At the Southland Tales premiere, it said to wear a fucking tux. Elliott and I wore tuxes, but his borrowed shiny shoes were a little big on him. He put on his sleek black Lacoste tennies. The security guard took one look at his shoes and said “It is impossible. You must wear NICE shoes. I’m sorry, it is finished.” Elliott ran around to the other side, determined to get himself in. At the other gate, the same response. In a most impressive move, Elliott snuck in by a stylist dressing two men ready to walk the red carpet. Guards kept yelling for his badge, but he linked arms with these quasi-celebrities / complete strangers. They arrived at the top of the stairs just as my strange escort left me. Elliott and I strode in and took our seats. The French do not think Lacoste is as classy as Americans do.
5. Get out of Cannes. Go to Antibes or somewhere else.
Half the people at the Festival are working day and night, not sleeping. The other half are tourists waiting outside the Martinez for a glimpse of Tom Hanks’ mullet. If you fall into neither of these categories, maybe you shouldn’t be there. Therefore, we traveled down the road to Antibes for three of the days. Mostly hanging out at the insanely beautiful and expensive Hôtel du Cap and its restaurant / pool area called Eden-Roc. While we didn’t actually have to stay at the hotel, we could still hang around the pool and drink wine.
My pictures of Cannes are actually mostly from Hôtel du Cap and traveling around Monaco and Cap Ferrat. I avoided looking like the tourist half with my entire being.
6. Drink rosée, but don’t order the rosée champagne.
Rosée champagne is like 200E a bottle. Unless you want to do that, and then by all means do it. If you’re on a budget, don’t eat or drink or stay anywhere.
7. Grow out facial hair.
Helps you fit in more. Mine looked like patches of pubic hair, but I was told it made me look more distinguished.
8. Fashion on the Croisette is not as it is in the States.
The tourist men look like they just slipped off of the slippery strip of Santa Monica Blvd. and into Cannes. These men, no matter how attractive they seem, are not important and are considered Eurotrash. In West Hollywood they would be considered “hotties.” To fit in, one must wear collared shirt, dress jeans, and dress shoes.
9. Not every movie at the Festival is going to be good
I anticipated the splendor that Richard Kelly’s sophomore film Southland Tales would hold for me so much that I almost pretended I liked it for the first half. I spoke with the Swedish programmer (he decides how many prints and in how many theatres) after the film. I actually asked to borrow his cell phone, but we started talking about the movie. He said “It is a failure. We pre-bought the rights. It will not play in art houses because critics will pan it. It will not play in mainstream houses because no one will understand it. It is a failure.” I agree. And it’s not going to be some cult classic later on down the line. Some say the film was rushed. I hope it gets a re-edit and improves. I wish nothing but the best for my fellow Midlothian-ite.
Shortbus was far more entertaining and rewarding. I was in tears watching John Cameron Mitchell accept his ten-minute-long standing ovation. I was also a little drunk. Who knows if either of these movies will ever see our theatres.
I met the raddest people and learned some tricky lessons. You really Cannes do wonders there!
Fuck you, don’t laugh.
Southland Tales
Clip 1 (rm)
Clip 2 (youtube)
Clip 3 (WMV)
Clip 4 (WMV)
Shortbus
Clip 1
