You should get out more
“You should get out more.” That was the advice my wife gave me a few days ago when I was whingeing to her about how frazzled I got rushing from breakfast to screening to press conference to interview to screening to press conference to bed at the Cannes Film Festival. Not for the first time, she was right.
When covering the movie marathon, the temptation is to get so lost in cinema that you forget Cannes has much more to offer. A walk along the palm-lined Croisette boulevard at night shows a different side of the Riviera resort. The place is abuzz with tourists and locals soaking up the glamour and atmosphere of the festival, movies are shown on a giant screen on the beach and the thump of music from parties by the sea lasts into the early hours.
The other night I popped along to an event held for Finnish band Lordi, where the rockers dressed as monsters gave an ear-splitting rendition of “They Only Come Out At Night” and “Who’s Your Daddy?” The only drawback was a packed bar and small bottles of beer costing 10 euros each. On the walk back to the hotel, I joined hundreds of onlookers to watch U2 sing a couple of hits on the red carpet outside the main festival cinema. It’s the kind of starry showmanship that Cannes thrives on.
At the weekend Ealing Studios held their bash for “St. Trinian’s”, the revamp of the successful schoolgirl comedy romp. Stars Rupert Everett and Colin Firth were there early on to meet and greet, models with ponytails, short skirts and indecently long legs circulated, and the drinks were free. The party was interrupted only by a stunning firework display across the water.
The drawback of course is late nights, and yes, I’m back to the old chestnut of sleep deprivation. Getting up for and sitting through the emotionally raw and harrowing “A Mighty Heart” this morning was a true test of the constitution.