Day Three of the festival started with a promise – a double-whammy of arthouse darlings Laurence Anyways and Beasts of the Southern Wild – a promise that somehow, irrevocably, metamorphose into a recurring nightmare when trains suddenly got suspended on the day when I had to run for a screening in Leicester Square. The said trains are the exact same mode of transport in the 21st century London, by the way, to which we’re led to believe it’s a TREMENDOUS technological and industrial advancement in the history of mankind. The cause – a signalling fault. Which practically plays a bit like domino effect, trains dropping dead one-by-one like flies.
Which led to completely miss out on this goddamn show.
Melvil Poupaud captured by emotions exactly on missing Laurence Anyways.
The next six hours was spent in utter misery, swigging existential drinks between Southbank and Soho – which was then repaired, rather marvellously, by Beasts of the Southern Wild. A film that y’all should see, a perfect embodiment of heartbreaking awesomeness. Read my ecstatic review here.