I e nriiversaryi A Cannes Diary By Brian D. Johnson

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4--e4V tvotwette Photo courtesy of Alliance. 6,11, f.'s. WON Atom Egoyan's The Sweet Hereafter wins the Grand Prix, the International Critics' Prize and the Ecumenical Prize at the golden anniversary of world cinema's annual summit. The The Fifth Element's stars and director Perfect Circle is a simple, Kolya–like tale of a Brave. Directing himself as a noble savage, zoom in by boat from the aristocratic father stuck with custody of a couple of Johnny Depp is way out of his depth. It's Hotel du Cap. Bruce Willis and Luc kids. Bosnian director Ademir Kenovic an embarrassment. Like watching Besson, both dressed in black and wearing started shooting in 1992, during the war. warpaint dry. But we're all very kind to shades, do their best to look invincible. With grand tracking shots, he uses the him at the press conference. He's got that The critics have savaged their film, and bombed–out city as a set. Charred trams modest charisma, the Zen version. when a French reporter politely brings and white UN armoured cars wheeling in Actually looks you in the eye like he this up, Bruce says, "No one here pays and out of the frame. In the evening I means it and remembers your name when attention to reviews. The printed word is revisit the same ruins and quietly weep you ask a question. going the way of the dinosaur." Brave through Michael Winterbottom's Welcome words in the land of Cahiers du cinema. But to Sarajevo, another story of rescuing I end the day with The End of Violence by maybe he's right. In Cannes the photo children from the war, but told through Wim Wenders. Polished, sophisticated, opportunity rules. At the gala opening the eyes of a TV correspondent. There are but morally vacant. Wenders can film blue night, as waves of stars parade up the some boos at the end from the French, sky in a way that you wonder why it's red–carpeted staircase of the Palais, it is who consider it exploitative. I dunno. It blue. But the film is a tired postmodern like a presidential inauguration. Throngs worked for me. shrug, a wank. Its only honest emotion is of people as far as the eye can see. The the filmmaker's own ennui, best Fifth Element's Milla Jovovich steals the expressed by a director in the story, who show, arriving virtually naked, in a F , May 1 whines, "Why make films in America? chain–mail loincloth and a gold necklace Smashed my shin on one of those little Why don't I stay in Europe?" Exactly. for a bra. She's a golden–anniversary square concrete turrets that they use edition of the most enduring Cannes instead of curbs to keep cars from straying We stay out late at the MTV party and cliché—the bare–breasted starlet—and the on to the sidewalk. Couldn't see the wait for the Spice Girls. Dance in the Orgy cameras devour her. Upstaged and visibly damned thing for the crowds. It's getting Room, where go–go boys and girls writhe upset, Demi Moore mounts the steps with so you can't move on the Croisette. Catch in plexiglass booths, their bodies in her husband. Cloaked in an long gown Imamura's The Eel. Or most of it. Lots of groping range for anyone desperate framed by hideous red drapery, she glares sex and blood in the opening scenes as a enough to slip their hands into latex glove at Milla with an envy worthy of holes. Snow man catches his wife with another man Repulsion Redux. wicked queen. Bruce, looking White's and stabs her many times. Ouch. Find my unbearably smug, gives her consolation eyes closing between subtitles about kisses for the cameras. halfway through, which has nothing to do 14444/ 11 with the movie. Hell, I'm just tired. See I run into Michael Ondaatje, on the T444,1out, K." 9 Charlie Sheen being mobbed just after Croisette, on his way to a photo shoot midnight as he leaves Planet Hollywood with fellow juror Paul Auster. Ondaatje is Jump–start the nervous system at 8:30 (it's just opened here). He looks thrilled, carrying his own Instamatic to the shoot. a.m. with an excoriating descent into more thrilled than the fans mobbing him. "I've got some really good pictures," he junkie hell, alcoholic annihilation and In the States, Charlie Sheen can't get tells me, with the conspiratorial air of a domestic savagery—Gary Oldman's Nil by arrested. Actually that's not true. He just man making art on the side. He says he's Mouth. It's visceral verite, an extended riff made a court appearance. But if Charlie heard that the main theatre in the Palais, of British working–class blues in the social Sheen wanted to be mobbed in N.Y. or the 2,600-seat Lumiere, is the darkest realist tradition of Kenneth Loach and L.A., he'd have to hire people to do it. theatre in the world, which is why you Mike Leigh, with a nod to Scorsese. The Hookers, maybe. In Cannes fans are so want to drift off to sleep as soon as the narrative unspools slowly, a ragged ravenolis for stars that they will swarm lights go down. Not that anyone on the thread, weaving in and out, often anyone remotely recognizable. jury has napped during a screening, he disappearing altogether. The dialogue hastens to add. If you do nod off, you plays like a bebop stream of profanity, 54104.4.,, 1‘14,y 10 might get woken up by a phone. This is syncopated with the f–word keeping time the Year of the Cell Phone in Cannes. and the c–word inflected as an accent. The Seeing movies at 8:30 a.m., after just a They're going off everywhere, in press movie's too long and shapeless, but few hours sleep, is strange. Your mind is conferences, theatres and meetings. well–acted. fresh, washed clean by dreams. Snapped to attention by the first espresso, you Actually saw two good movies today, out I wade through a crowd of hundreds arrive with great expectations. For a of competition, both about inappropriate jammed around the Carlton Hotel moment, anything seems possible. All the romance. In Mrs. Brown, Judy Dench plays chanting "Michael, Michael." Michael competition films are preceded by a series a crisp Queen Victoria besotted with a Jackson has just made a coquettish called "Preludes," a montage of clips Scottish servant; in Love and Death on Long appearance from a the top–floor floor around a particular theme. Each day it's Island (a Canada–British co–production), window, waving to the multitude—the something different. Scenes of characters John Hurt plays a crisp English shy fascist. A weathered French busker wearing stripes. Or of French actors intellectual besotted with a doltish with beret and banjo saunters by. "It's not speaking accented English. Scenes of rafts. American teen idol (Jason Priestly cruelly really him," he says. "It's a copy." I have Tennis. Trees. Tangos. The clips run at a typecast). Tonight is the big ceremony to decide whether to stay and wait with leisurely length—juicy chunks of two or honouring 27 previous winners of the the crowd for another royal flirtation from three minutes apiece. "Preludes" become Palme d'Or. Catch bits of it on TV. The big the Masked One, or go next door, into a the most luxurious part of the day, an moment is the presentation of the Palme basement theatre for a movie about escape into pure cinema—and a hard act of Palmes to Ingmar Bergman, who is not Sarajevo. I chose Sarajevo. for any film to follow. Especially The there. Neither is Quentin Tarantino.

TAKE 0 N E 47 Mate y, 144y. '12 A cool, rainy day. Kissed plays at the Directors' Fortnight. The audience sits in rapt silence, broken by warm, prolonged applause at the end as director Lynne Stopkewich and star Molly Parker step onstage for the closing credits. "Every time I see the film, it's different," Stopkewich tells me later. "It becomes like theatre, because the audience always responds differently. It's interesting just to close my eyes and listen to how they're reacting. Here it was very intense, very quiet." Afterward a shuttle bus takes us to a villa in the hills for a midnight party for Kissed. On the terrace, overlooking the lights of the Riviera, Parker—the world's Photo cortoso sl MOWN first necrophile ingenue—strikes a pose by Molly Parker with a corpse in Lynne Stopkewich's Kissed the pool while fielding questions for "Most people, to their suprise, find Kissed sweet and inoffensive." French television. Wearing a turquoise gown of Chinese silk, she matches the disarming simplicity of it. It was so pool. Earlier in the day, Parker and 1A4,4144/41 , HAI 14 Kissed liberating to see that a film in this drab Stopkewich did the press This morning L.A. Confidential, a slick conference. The first question came from location with these very real, drab people noirish detective thriller by Curtis Hanson could be riveting." Originally, the an Australian woman who wanted to (River Wild), draws the most rapturous know "How does it feel to have made a larger—than—life Donald Sutherland was applause of the festival. Everyone's been cast as the lawyer, but he dropped out at pornographic movie?" When Stopkewich depressed by wet weather and lacklustre the last minute, to be replaced by the asked her to define pornography, the films, horny for something big and woman said it was stuff most people find smaller—than—life Holm. I'd read the novel splashy. Well, with L.A. Confidential, that's with Sutherland in mind. When I saw the "disgusting and offensive," which was what they get. But it's no Pulp Fiction. So puzzling, because most people, to their film, it was hard to get him out of my far no competition film has emerged as a head, hard to get used to Holm. But his surprise, find Kissed sweet and inoffensive. contender. The Ice Storm, Ang Lee's subtlety makes for a very balanced The Australian journalist finally confessed Updike—like slice of moral confession, she had not seen the film. ensemble: Sarah Polley, Bruce comes closest. But Cannes is still desperate Greenwood and Tom McCamus—they're for a out—of—the—park home run. all extraordinary. The response to the The makers of Kissed are getting used to a media screening is hard to read. The Sweet certain line of questioning, one that links Everyone is talking about The Sweet Hereafter is a quiet tragedy without Kissed to Crash and asks how such a nice Hereafter. Even before most people in catharsis, and doesn't lend itself to wild nation can make such kinky movies. "All Cannes have seen it, it's touted as the applause. It's also late at night, late in the the time," says Parker, "people ask me, favourite to win the Palme d'Or. But it's 'Do you expect controversy?' and 'What is festival, and the audience is fidgety an awfully intimate piece of work to (especially the guy beside me, who Canada doing making these films every withstand such expectations. As one thrashes around like he's got hives). I find year?' and 'What does this say about prominent American critic remarked, Canadians?' They're difficult questions. myself feeling too distracted, and too "How does it feel to have the hopes of the protective, to enjoy the film the second It's one thing to ask them within Canada, entire Cannes press corps riding on one time through. because we're so obsessed with just what little Canadian film?" I saw The Sweet it is we're saying in our films and our Hereafter in Toronto before leaving, and I do some "exit interviews" after the literature and everything. It's another liked it a lot. The story, based on the screening, a press ritual peculiar to thing to try to answer those questions in Russell Banks novel, centres on a big—city Cannes. Harlan Jacobson of U.S.A. Today an international forum. And I still have lawyer (Ian Holm) who prods a rural tells me he thinks the film is "terrific," no answer to them." Neither does community into suing authorities after a calling it "the first real collection of Stopkewich. But at the press conference school bus crash kills 14 children. characters that has shown up in this she offers a sound bite: "Our winters are festival—these people are so real that very long." The Sweet Hereafter is a departure for you can just reach out and touch Egoyan. It's the first film that he has not them." Dave Kehr, from the New York written from scratch. For the first time, he Daily News, who's not an Egoyan fan, T( 414y, 1./Ay. 13 takes his camera into Canada's natural tries to be generous. He calls it Egoyan's Run into Ondaatje again, at a Canadian landscape, and focuses on a small—town "most fluid and natural work," then cocktail party on the beach. He says, with world of ostensibly normal people. "I had says, "I wish he'd lay off the some amusement, that an eye infection is a lot of trepidation about doing this film metaphors—he's always pushing the going around the jury. after Exotica," he told me before I left for intentionality of every scene." Cannes. While serving on last year's Intentionality. Now there's a critic's Cannes jury, he says he was "hugely word, the kind of word Kehr can't use influenced by Secrets and Lies=just the in his own newspaper.

48 SUMMER 1997 fractious deliberations actually did reduce T4444y, F-14, 1S 1-14.1 16 her to tears.) Mike Leigh championed Imamura's The Eel; Robin Williams, promoting a movie that On deadline for Maclean's. I spend the Nani Moretti went to the wall for Kiarostami's hasn't been made yet, provides a blast of day writing and miss the screening of The Taste of the comic relief in what has been a pretty Abbas Kiarostami's The Taste of the Cherry. Cherry. Neither would budge, so the jury split the Palme d'Or between the Japanese dour festival. Dubs Cannes "Disneyland by It is almost a rule of thumb in Cannes that Dante." Plus lots of Howard Stern penis the film you miss will win the Palme d'Or. and Iranian films, awarding the jokes—"Ahhh...Rumpelforeskin!" runner—up Grand Prix to The Sweet Hereafter. Receiving his award from John Tonight The Sweet Hereafter has its gala 544.4,41, Fut 11 Travolta, Egoyan puts on a brave face and premiere. Alliance hosts a prescreening makes a point of thanking Canada. Later, I have to choose between the new Wong dinner at Oasis, a lovely restaurant down he explains himself: "I have a freedom to the coast with preposterous French Kar Wai (Happy Together) and a repeat make my films that I don't think I would cuisine. Guests include David Cronenberg,o il screening of the Kiarostami. Opting for anywhere else," he says. "I've had that flown in by Alliance at the last minute to instant gratification, I go for Wong freedom since the beginning of my career, lend moral support. Later the daily Kar—Wai, because he's so cool and and I cherish it." As for losing the Palme, Hollywood Reporter grumbles that Alliance kinetic. It's a gay love story, with a torrid he says, "To be honest, at a really crass scene off the top. Extra—texture shuffled the journalists at its fancy dinner sex level, nobody in North America knows the into a dark corner (no complaints here— images, flipping between black and white difference between the Grand Prix and the plenty of light at my table) and a busload and colour. Half way in, I start to feel Palme d'Or. It looks the same in the ads." of dinner guests never reached the impatient (once again) with sheer style, Egoyan also wins the International Critics' premiere because the driver couldn't find and haunted that I've made the wrong Prize and the Ecumenical Prize—making a decision. Today's calls the Palais. Apparently, the 11:30 p.m. Hollywood Reporter total of three Cannes awards. Not too The Sweet Hereafter the favourite to win the screening goes well; Egoyan gets a shabby. Champagne all around. standing ovation. The party starts 0'1 Palme d'Or, says the buzz is gathering up a.m., at the Carlton Beach. A jazz quartet and down the Croisette, whatever that means. The jury makes the plays soft standards, champagne flows. decision. And But with just a few hundred guests, it who knows what they're thinking? seems underpopulated, and sombre, Behind the Palais, they are stuffing red especially after the exuberant Crash bash carpets into a garbage truck. The at the same venue last year. Cronenberg billboards are coming down on the tells me how strange it was to be sitting in Awards night. Jeanne Moreau does her Croisette. The white sales tents along the behind Egoyan, watching him go through grande—dame routine as emcee. Jury beach are being folded up. By the time I the same stress, in the same theatre— president Isabelle Adjani stands off to the reach the airport, Cannes seems like a perhaps in the same seat— that he went side, looking like she's about to burst into distant dream, a circus by Fellini, and through this time last year. And Atom tears. (Later sources tell me that the jury's already I'm nostalgic for the "Preludes." ■ seems nervous about coming to Cannes as the official favourite. Sarah Polley talks about how weird it was to be The Filth Element: A movie that marries French style and Hollywood protected by busloads of police at the excess in the name of campy deconstruction. Is this the new nouvelle vague? premiere, how it reminded her of demonstrations back home.

Meanwhile, Alliance's Robert Lantos notices a waiter walking around with a box of Cuban cigars. Wondering if Havanas are being given away for free at the party—the party he paid for—he goes after the waiter, planning to grab a few. Turns out the cigars are being sold. Lantos, who is already smoking one, doesn't buy any. In the lobby of the Carlton Hotel, I run into the six directors of Cosmos, an omnibus of short films linked by the travels of a Montreal taxi driver. Lovingly shot in black and white, Cosmos is a charming piece of serendipity, a serious film that does not take itself seriously. And after playing in the Directors' Fortnight program, it wins an award from the International Confederation of Art Cinemas. It's a rather obscure prize, but Cosmos producer Roger Frappier, and his six young protégés, are thrilled.

TAKE 0 N E 49