At Cannes, the big and small collide
by Eric Kohn
CANNES, France -- Wandering around the dense collection of parties, promotional events and, yes, even movie screenings at the Cannes Film Festival, you can't help but feel the sheer scale of the place barreling down on your senses. The environment easily accommodates lavish expressions of power, with any number of celebrities and affluent investors flocking to private gatherings along the messy length of the Croisette to talk business over the finest rosé until dawn breaks. The festival and the marketplace swirl together as a furious spectacle. The international film industry these days is all about swimming with sharks.
Here's a clever way to deal with the exclusivity: Ignore it. Heading into town on Thursday for the second frenzied day of the gathering, I met a friendly group of representatives from ThinkSync , a nifty operation based out of London focused on helping filmmakers get the rights to the music they deserve (the two-person team also handles the in-store playlist for H&M). Constantly in search of expanding the roster of talent they represent, ThinkSync founders Connie Farr and Oli Harbottle arrived at Cannes this year, their second, with no easy access to the biggest events or possession of color-coded badges to pave their way. Rather than grappling with the system, they have chosen to reject it, using the crowd for their own means.
Without a doubt, the Cannes crowd blends together as an organic resource for the independent members of the creative community, given that every facet of the business surrounds you in every direction. Seriously, everybody is here: Outside the Grand Hotel last night, where crowds of Americans flock for evening drinks on the sprawling lawn and quibble about last minute dealmaking, a Warner Independent employee lamented his looming unemployment, distributors from Magnolia Pictures and IFC Films boasted of their recent acquisitions, and a kindly lawyer from New York discussed the latest comic book adaptation he was pushing on potential investors at the festival. It was all happening at once and the chatter never lost momentum.
Earlier in the day, I browsed the Cannes marketplace and found a handful of enterprising young filmmakers pushing their work in the Short Film Corner, while obscure titles and potential blockbusters alike sought the attention of international buyers. When you're moving with it, Cannes turns into a blur, but stop for a moment and you'll get a snapshot of personal endeavors and devout entrepreneurship.
Still, Cannes is not a Zen-like realm where everyone finds an even place on the playing field. The unremarkable DreamWorks film Kung Fu Panda, which features the voice of Jack Black as a spirited bear with a zest for martial arts, screened yesterday out-of-competition, where it received a ho-hum reception. Now, it's not like there isn't any original or groundbreaking animation going on now (just the other day I caught a poster in the marketplace for a delightful-sounding project called Sunshine Barry and the Disco Worms), but Kung Fu Panda feels like the product of a studio that isn't trying hard enough. The jokes are flat, the art is simple and the appeal is sophomoric, so what the hell is it doing at Cannes? Dark edgy conspiracy theory of the moment: That the festival entered into some deal with the studio in order to get DreamWorks co-founder Steven Spielberg to screen his Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of Crystal Skulls here on Sunday. Look, studios entered into block-booking deals all the time in the early decades of the twentieth century, and Cannes is nothing if not old school.
Then again, there's enough promising content elsewhere in the program to make the questionable inclusion of Kung Fu Panda a non-issue. In the Un Certain Regard sidebar, a fascinating three-director collaboration called Tokyo received a deservedly warm reception at its Thursday night premiere. It's essentially three short films directed by Michel Gondry, Leos Carax and The Host's Bong Joon Ho, all distinctively talented filmmakers with specific idiosyncracies. The film is a fascinating exploration of various moods and styles: Gondry's segment follows a woman who transforms into a chair, with the director characteristically avoiding special effects. In this case, the approach works quite effectively. There's a nimble humor to the whims of the Japanese characters, and the metaphor for sexism is especially potent. I was surprised to see Gondry turn out for the screening at the Debussy, given his open disregard for Cannes ever since Human Nature got slammed there years ago. I'm glad he turned out again, given the quality of the new project, which deserves a decent American release based on the sheer cult reputation of its various authors. Before a crowd of fans enshrouded him after the screening, I went up to Gondry and asked, with a half-smile, if he was glad to be back at Cannes. He grinned back, and offered a hesitant nod. The cameras were watching. This was not the time for complaints.