Is this the end?

I’ve always detested those people leaving the theater before the film’s end. It was ethics for me, a principle, even in those cases when I realized that I was in front of a bad movie much before its ending. It was in the enthusiastic years of my discovering of cinema, those days when you saw three or four movies a day. When film festivals came, you were in the theaters from early morning till sunset. You almost saw everything and almost everything you saw was interesting. In the meanwhile, your eye grows up and demands more and more.. Today, I suppose I am more critical and conscious. I`m still enthusiastic but I gradually set some limits for myself.

When attending a film festival, you make some kind of selection from the beginning. I end up watching as many movies as I had planned to watch, and that’s true for my visit in Karlovy Vary, too. `You have to do things`, it’s true, but let’s say it: becoming a critic entails a selective mentality. I partly feel the lack of that insatiable `naive` way of seeing.

Karlovy Vary offered a rich menu and I missed out on so much. And I’ve recently began to leave the theater before the film’s ending.

by Yuri Lavecchia (Italy)

 

John! John!! John!!! John!!!!

…yelled the Festival Daily paper boy as the wind gushed the smoke from the nearby sausage stand over the Red Carpet and right into his lungs, making him cough after the last “John”.

That particular morning

Without any warning

I took a stroll down Masarykova street

And there were some people standing around

Who told me that KV is a place to meet

And new friends could be found.

Along the way was a giant photo of a man with a bow

From a film, but who he is, I did not know

So…

Strolled up to the hotel Thermal

(Grease was screened in a cinema

And I remembered the man with the bow!)

There were more people standing around

And I started having problems with my epidermal

And broke my rhyme on the way

Hearing four trombonists play

The theme from Pulp fiction.

Went up to Grandhotel Pupp There were some people standing around: it was an organized siege!

Their faces were distorted, with eyeballs falling out! There I’ve seen horses stuck in the mud, forgotten babies in the street, lying and crying, being ran over by the crowd

And

I just had to get away!

Had to find a quiet place to write my Nisimasa Karlovy Vary confession

That was due today!

So…

I went into the woods behind the Poop and found solitude.

Started writing my confession down when I was approached by a fox, you know, very much resembling the one from Von Trier’s Antichrist, and was asked in dismay

But nevertheless polite way:

What the f*** are you doing here, don’t you know that Travolta is in town?!

by Nino Kovačić

Barefoot picnic in a park with students

Watching 4-5 movies a day sometimes makes you long for a short timeout. What to do now? Just take your shoes off, mingle with the crowd in one of the small parks along the river Teplá and contemplate a bit here. In my opinion, the real essence of KVIFF lays in these unofficial festival spots which turn a jiff into real forums where you can discuss about the movie you have just seen- even with strangers. People are remarkably open here, they enjoy the sunshine and each other’s company while sitting on the grass. This is the best way to compensate for all the daytime hours you’ve spent in the darkness of the screening room and finally get a light suntan.

If you join this global picnic, you definitely meet the representatives of the young generation. For me, their attendance is the most impressive thing at KVIFF. I haven’t seen so many enthusiastic teenagers- regardless of the genre of a movie- in a screening anywhere else (especially not in my country). These young adults attend the cinema just because it is simply trendy to be here. And they actively participate, give feedback and vote. No wonder they are here; the festival encourages them to come with cheap accommodation and a wide range of entertainments. When, a couple of years ago, I arrived here for the first time as a backpacker student, I met many people like me and I realized we are the ones who create the spirit of this festival. Years later, when I’m here as a journalist, it’s really nice to see that this fact hasn’t change a bit.

Lilla Puskás

There is always an open door by Jorė Janavičiūtė

“Viewers with valid tickets must take up their places no later than 5 minutes before the beginning of the screening, otherwise their right to their seat will be automatically withdrawn” says a notice on ticket here in Karlovy Vary International Film Festival. Of course, it is written in small letters, difficult to notice for the KVIFF first-timer, who has not learned a lesson yet. But what can a fellow film journalist do, running from screening to screening or from writing to screening all day long and sometimes a bit late, when the screening of the film he needs to write about is completely full, and a girl is very sorry, but she cannot let him in?

This is what happened to me yesterday. “The Deflowering of Eva van End”. People where talking that this Dutch film is even better than Wes Anderson. 5 minutes late. The girl is sorry. I try the smiling and “I need to write about” strategies (but I really need to write about this film). Does not help. Giving up on cinematographically enjoyable Wes-Anderson-like movie and seeing it in the video library? No way.

But here I notice the cute director of the film, Michiel ten Horn, standing by the door. Nothing to lose, I decide to complain. “You must be so pleased, your movie is overcrowded. And they are not letting me in.” Sad face. “Maybe that would be too obvious, but look, here is another door,” he says.

Another door, with a small opening.

It’s been a while since a sceening has been so enjoyable.

Shoes – An uplifting experience

I’m 1.64m short. Wearing heels is not a challenge for me anymore, as I wear them all the time. Or at least, that is what I thought before I came to Cannes – a film festival that puts a completely new perspective on the importance of wearing comfortable shoes.

Since walking is the fastest mode of transport between different film screenings and our apartment, the main activity you undertake next to watching movies and writing articles is walking everywhere. Or running, for unimportant people like me who need to be at the cinema to start queuing at least 1 hour before the screening begins.

After only one day my feet hurt and where full of blisters, which got me obsessed with the kind of shoes people were wearing, as I naturally wanted to be up on Cannes-trends. Throughout the week I took pictures of ordinary and unordinary walking equipment (see above), and can say for a certainty that the true Cannes-shoe doesn’t exist.

For some people the Cannes film festival is as much about the gowns and shoes on the red carpet as the films and awards, but others really don’t mind wearing the most ugly garb, as long as they are comfortable. And I must say, after a week in Cannes I wouldn’t mind wearing socks with sandals anymore. Even though it has been a fashion faux pas for as long as I can remember, convenience just trumps vanity.

Looking at my blisters I decide I don’t need my heels anymore: Cannes is an uplifting experience anyway!

By Kris Derks (The Netherlands)

Pardon My French

When I was 16 I decided to drop French in school and learn Spanish instead. I did never doubt that decision until the exact moment when I started to prepare my first trip the Cannes Film Festival. Suddenly I realized that even though I used to be one of the best students in my class, I can hardly have a basic conversation with a French speaking person. I tried to pick up some vocabulary before I left home but failed to do so in the chaos of festival preparation. Sitting on the plane I got really worried. How could I survive in the festival jungle without even speaking the language?

The answer is: Just fine! I’m amazed how many French people – even outside the festival – speak English. Also they are all incredibly friendly. I’m coming from a tourism hot spot myself: Berlin is crowded by people from all over the world almost the whole year but especially at summer time. And I honestly can get really annoyed when disoriented tourists constantly block my way. The people of Cannes don’t seem to have this kind of problem. I can only imagine what it feels like to be overrun by thousands of film fanatics once a year and I’m sure, it would drive me crazy.

I’m incredibly grateful for their patience since I’m sure I’m not the first person these days to ask for the supermarket in really bad French.

My feeling is that French in general is a very friendly language. For example the sentence “Je suis desolé“ sounds very polite, but in most cases means something like “What you just did, is really wrong“, for example when you get busted trying to smuggle a water bottle into a screening room. But “Je suis desolé“ sounds just so much better. Unfortunately I’m not able to give something back in terms of an answer, but I try to smile a lot when I talk to “the natives“ and hope that they understand what I’mtrying to say: Pardon my French!

By Sophie Rieger

Nisimazine Cannes confession by Piers McCarthy

Never in my life have I had to pay attention to scheduling as much as I have in Cannes. It’s already been an amazing learning experience and I can always hope employers will see my time here as impressive. I’m still struggling with my body’s reaction to the chaotic timetabling although it’s exciting at the same time – getting to grips with the breadth and limitations of energy and motivation. So far, I’ve had no issues with the latter and I want to do and see as much as possible whilst here at the festival.

Not every film has been mind-blowing, and I have yet to walk out of a screening in complete awe (the closest I’ve come to that has been Alex van Warmerdam’s Borgman). My days at Cannes have been on and off since the 16^th, but now I’m in certainly in the heart and heat of it so I will expectantly catch a few more films, and hopefully a couple of a gems.

I will definitely try to come back next year as the impulse to see everything provides you with dozens of new tastes in film and new filmmakers and actors to follow. Furthermore, following (predominantly) the Caméra D’or and Short Film Selection has introduced me to new talent that I would perhaps miss were it not for the program. The atmosphere at many of the screenings is electric – everyone wanting to support the work and clapping and congratulating cast and crew in attendance accordingly (last night at Last Days on Mars screening was something else, an eruption of applause that bookended the opening and end credits).

As many people here have said already, Cannes is like a drug. The addiction has already begun, never to subside, I expect. You eat, sleep and drink less here (unless you’re attending parties each and every day/night) which is relatively problematic. However, the drive to be in the audience for numerous new films is too powerful, leaving necessities by the side-line. The only thing I want to consume here are films, films, films.

By Piers McCarthy (UK)

Nisimazine Cannes confession by Robyn Davies

Being my first time in Cannes, I didn’t really have much idea beforehand about the power of my badge. I learned very quickly that colours are important (from the holy grail white badge to my lowly yellow), and soon after I started to feel somewhat self-conscious. What if no one will speak to me because I’m a yellow? Will the pink’s sneer at me? And most importantly – what if I don’t get into any screenings?

It wasn’t long before I realised that while the colours matter in a practical sense, no one really cares. Everyone is united by two things in the press world: they love film (well, you’d hope so) and they need to write about it. And for that reason, you’re treated like a person. People do speak to you, lots of them. When you’re destined to spend your week standing in queues outside of the Palais, conversations spark up easily, especially when you have to share umbrellas (if you haven’t already heard, it’s rained – a lot.)

With a press badge you’re also granted access to most things. The majority of the screenings aren’t a problem, and the same goes for press conferences. More importantly, your opinion counts. This morning I was stopped by a camera crew and asked my thoughts on Le Passe’s chances of winning the Palme d’Or. Yep, even a yellow badge holder’s opinion is deemed television worthy here.

by Robyn Davies (UK)

Nisimazine Cannes 2013 | Confession 4

Cannes, Day 4. When I arrived on Tuesday, full of hopes, I had no idea of what was expecting me on the Croisette. All of my friends asked me if I was going to climb the red carpet and see Leonardo, to which I had no answer.

I was picturing myself like Alice in Wonderland, going down the rabbit hole and eating/drinking, this & that. In fact, it feels more like Asterix and Obelix in “the place that makes you mad”, trying to find the “A38 permit” in an aquarium full of sharks. I asked the first staff person I met where I should queue to get in the right screening and I would say to my excuse that “this is my first time here” and that “I’m lost”. To this he answered: “Sorry, I’m lost myself”. Very helpful. After two wrong queues, I ended up in the right cinema and even got in, despite all the bad looks that my yellow -untouchable style- press badge always attracts.

Cannes is a weird bubble. In front of the Palais and all over the place you can meet: rich people, people pretending to be rich, important people, people pretending to be important, random people, senegalese guys selling umbrellas (yes, it has been raining in the last days, first world problem), grannies & grandpas, tourists and others…

There are the elected, the chosen ones, and you (me). I got used to it after a while. It seems like everyone is playing a role and in the end I’m not sure I can distinguish who is who. Some people make it. I am not going to.

Even if you try hard, you can’t pretend to be someone else. I’m the one who could not steal in the supermarket when I was young because my face would get lobster-red. I won’t be the one trying to crash parties and red carpets with my canary badge, because they would notice it at first sight.

Is it bad? No. I’m not dying to have free drinks. Some will say that this is stupid and that I’m not getting the whole Cannes experience. I’m happy watching films.

…

So, tonight I went to a birthday-cocktail I was invited to. It was funny to have a glimpse of Cannes. Luxurious hotel complex, great view, great food, etc. When I went, reassured that “my” Cannes was going a promising way, I took the wrong elevator and ended up in the house-keeping elevator in the basement floor. Back to reality, girl!

by Cécile Tollu-Polonowski (Germany)

Nisimazine Cannes 2013 | Confession 3

No need to speak about politics to evoke the “class struggle”, you just have to go to the Cannes Film Festival to attest it.

For the common people who mainly follow the festival through the small screen, Cannes represents stars, glitters and films. Yet, once you get to the “Croisette”, war is declared. In Cannes there are accreditations and accreditations. Here, initially, people do not look in the eyes of each other when they meet, they look at the colour of the badge around your neck: what a wonderful world, the colours take the power; Yellow, orange, blue, pink, pink with yellow dots and in top of the hierarchy, white badges, which gives you access to all the projections and interviews in priority. The colour reflects your social status: if you are in the good category, you will get respectful looks, but if not, you will have to get used to the condescending, empathic and sorry eyes during the whole festival, without speaking of the never-ending queues which do not even guarantee you to get access to projections. But it is interesting, and to tell the truth amusing, to see at which point the festive people are ready to do anything to see a film, including pushing you discreetly into a plant to be able to get in front of you (this is veracious!). Cannes: the theatre of vanities. Cruel.

by Leila Hamour (France)