Wong Kar Wai's My Blueberry Nights was one of the most eagerly awaited films at Cannes this year. He is, after all, a favoured son of the film festival, and this was his English-language debut starring Jude Law and singer-turned-actress Norah Jones.
It was one of the many films that I did not manage to catch. I stood in line for a screening at a cinema but I suspect they were out of tickets even before the line started moving.
The red carpet screening, had I been in time for that, was probably out of my league.
If you're hankering for a hierarchical and strictly-structured society, you can certainly get a good dose of it here at Cannes. You need an official pass for access and there are colour codes for the different classes of participants. So you knew your place according to the colour of your press pass - pink for power, blue for blah, and yellow for yikes. How civilized!
One of the sweetest moments came when I was standing in line for the press screening of Ulrich Seidl’s Import Export (a cheery little number about life in the wintry wasteland that is Ukraine and the soul-sucking wasteland that is urban Austria) and was helpfully informed by this poor schlub with a yellow pass that the line for blue passes was up ahead. Nothing like having someone ranked below you to make you feel better about your own low place in society.
Actually, I did walk the red carpet. At an 8.30am press screening of Gus Van Sant’s Paranoid Park (felt like Elephant redux at first, another look into the heart of teenaged blank-faced darkness). This was the best time to catch a screening because the well-connected folks were still recovering from the previous night’s fabulous parties. It also meant beating the surprisingly ferocious heat along the French Riviera.
The celebrity encounters were mostly through interviews. Korean director Kim Ki Duk and his star Chang Chen were there for Breath, which was in competition, while Yang Kuei-mei was in Cannes for Ekachai Uekrongtham’s Pleasure Factory (three red-light district stories in search of characters).
There was definitely a frisson of je ne sais quois conducting an interview with Kim while a middle-aged woman sunbathed topless in the background.
Random sightings included Amitabh Bachchan - oh my god! he’s walking around the film market! no one comes to the film market! - which was exciting enough even though I’m not a fan.
Then there was Kimura Takuya and the other guy from SMAP, Shingo whatshisname, strolling along the beach promenade. There was an entourage trailing along, from which this one guy detached himself when I fished out my camera. His grasp of English seemed limited but effective - “no photographs”.
And Penelope Cruz, on a large tv screen on the wall of the Palais des Festivals, helpfully positioned for those who didn’t have a direct view of the red carpet. At least, that’s what my neighbour said.