Tales of Cannes Film Festival
Each year, for more than half a century, life in Cannes is put on hold for two weeks, as if it is suspended from the Croisette during the film Festival. It is open season on nabbing a stars portrait and it doesn't interest me. I walk about this little town which, for two weeks becomes as chock-a-block as a private club. Everything is a game of appearances under the sun and the sparkle of sequins and the night under the sunlights. I attend the parade of girls in evening gowns, men in suites, all exhibiting themselves with the conviction of belonging to the place and the event, of being unique at the heart of the legend amongst the luxury cars, the rented jewelry and the gleaming yachts. It is like an open air circus that performs every year, the myth of eternal youth, beauty, fame and wealth. I attend the ballet of rushing people who cleave the crowd, change direction, shout and disappear under the whistle-blows of the police, the roaring Ferraris, the paparazzi flashes : it is like a fairground, a world of illusions, of artificial beauty... Finally, in front of the Festivals Palace steps, a few feet from the red carpet, I attend the frenetic waiting of fans venerating their idols. It is this fauna hypnotized by the vanity game and the decor it is performed in that fascinates me. You will not see stars who have made and will make festival news in this series, but those who they make fantasize about them and the ballet of their attempts to get closer to their dream. The last day of the Festival, a Japanese film crew wished to interview me. I think I disappointed them a little by admitting that I wasn't looking for stars. What are you looking for then? I answered : I observe the parade.