And so my final day in Cannes has arrived – after ten days of seemingly endless queueing, the rants and raves in my blog and tweeting the shit out of the festival – it has been a wild, wonderful, transformative experience that will go down as the best thing that ever happened to The Moviejerk‘s existence so far. I have indulged into a decadent ten days of uninhibited, unbridled passion for cinema, surrounded by people who cared about the artform and industry as though life solely depended on it.
Before I left the Croisette, I managed to check out my final film of this year’s festival, James Gray’s quiet, classically-crafted drama The Immigrant, which features sterling performances from Marion Cotillard and Joaquin Phoenix. It’s been criticised for lacking dramatic fireworks – but I persist as a counter-argument that cathartic drama wasn’t The Immigrant‘s purpose, but rather the subtle emotions that flutter through the story of one woman’s survival in 1920’s New York. Cotillard makes it the more remarkable for giving her character an understated gravitas – her suffering all the more resonant and dignified by her refusal to overplay the Polish immigrant Ewa Cybulski, a role that could have begged sympathy in the doldrums. Come awards season, expect Cotillard’s name to flourish once again.
To wrap up, I’ve seen fifteen films altogether, all with varying greatness and disappointment, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen two or three contenders of the year’s best films. As I embark to London, my film consumption will plummet dramatically, from High Art to Hangover III. At least I will have something to rant about. Nonetheless, I’d like to grab this available opportunity to thank every one who read this blog/tolerated my cantankerous rants/bored to death with my nonsense/gave their undying support. For without you, I wouldn’t have made it this far. A toast for all you guys.
Now, drama’s over. Back to the shitstorm.