Day off. It’s the first day during my time in Cannes so far where I’ve never attempted to queue and see any film. In other words, I’ve done fuck-all. But it was worth every minute to saunter around the Boulevard de Croisette, catch the blazing sun along the beach and indulged in cocktails. Only to my discovery that the Editor of Pictureshow Magazine, Joshua Hammond, whom I got acquainted with in Cannes, has seen about 15 films and I’ve only done 6 so far. I’m pathetic, I know. And I’m slacking where I should be catching the wave.
Nonetheless, recuperation was needed, and there’s nothing better than tasting a bit of divine decadence of absolutely doing nothing. I’ve met Iain Alexander of Film Industry Network briefly, if that counts (thanks for the interview!).
There’s still a few more high-profile films descending on the Palais the next few days – Steven Soderbergh’s swansong, the Liberace biopic, Behind the Candelabra, which look like an HBO-sponsored gay pride parade. Then there’s Nicholas Winding Refn’s badass-looking Only God Forgives, with Baby Goose and Hot Mama Scott-Thomas, Alexander Payne’s Nebraska and James Gray’s The Immigrant, with Marion Cotillard and Joaquin Phoenix gracing the festival.
But for now, I’m hitting the beach.