My first trip to Cannes was 25 years ago. I arrived a week before the festival was scheduled to open. I strolled around the quiet town, lazed on the beach and took the train to nearby cities — Nice, Antibes, and Monaco — all beautiful places.
Around Cannes, things changed dramatically as the global film circus rolled into town. It got crowded. The locals fled. Giant billboards advertising Hollywood’s latest offerings cluttered the boardwalk. Fences went up. Security arrived. You can imagine what it’s like this year.
I was there because my first feature was selected to open the Critic’s Week, one of the 7 films chosen from first and second features around the world. This is the icing on the cake for a low-budget independent filmmaker. It was amazing, and you can’t compare it to anything else.
I have lots of memories, but two important things were that my Mom was able to go, and I got a great review in Variety:
When the festival finished, I stayed on for another week. I watched the signage come down, the crowds go home, and the locals return to the little town they enjoy for 50 weeks a year.
Cannes is a nice place to visit, but for two weeks every year, it’s a crowded madhouse.
I loved it.
You’ve been warned!
POZERVISION 