Crush and rage on the Croisette

Favorite: the people of Cannes

It is always fascinating to see the population of Cannes appropriate the festival from one vintage to another. For traders, at least those whom the pandemic has not knocked down, it’s a jackpot. They do business in gold. But their courtesy contrasts with the rudeness of the wildlife of the guests. The newsagent greets me by name every year. The people of Cannes persist in settling on scaffolding to watch the stars (and influencers) climb the steps. And a large number of them manage to dig up, by more or less occult processes, invitations to official screenings by parading around in their best outfits. Enthusiasm is the lot of the “locals”, less jaded and out of breath than the festival-goers, their tongues on the ground.

Rant: the films in a single file

We don’t want to moan, but putting on three films in a single file for nearly seven hours, like this Thursday, without a moment to eat, with its festival in the body, is a test of endurance. Especially when the works in question do not go together. You have to harden up to maintain a semblance of objectivity in front of the last opus which drags on but has qualities that you would taste better with a clear head. It is not surprising to observe so many critical disparities (especially this year). Fatigue sets in. Some knock nails on their seats. During the last sprint, keeping your eyes open is a challenge.

Odile Tremblay is the guest of the Cannes Film Festival.

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