Cannes Day 10
Yesterday was quite eventful. I got into Cannes at around 11 and got breakfast at what's easily my favorite bakery in the damned city. I took it with me to the palais and scheduled out my viewings for the day as I ate. It seemed as though the herds have thinned, as market screenings have all but ended. Luckily for me, this meant I could get caught up on the competition films I'd missed.
You see, I've gone about this festival with a philosophy of just seeing movies based on title alone to go in more unbiased. Doing so has given me a whole spectrum of movies to view, be they the next classics or worse than The Room. Now I can catch up on the best things since there's no more muddled water to wade through, so to speak.
What I ended up seeing were Savauge, La Hora de los Hornos, and The Harvesters. Savauge is a film I can only describe as gay porn with a melodrama's plot. La Hora de los Hornos was Argentine communist propaganda from the 1960's filmed like a city symphony. The Harvestors seemed to have been written by someone who really needs to see a therapist.
Then after that, I tried to find out what people were doing that free weekend, nly to find out that everyone had booked without my knowledge. At first, I got really defensive and thought people hid plans from me because I'd pissed them off somehow, only to realize that everyone had planned the day I couldn't get my phone onto wifi to save it's life. Oh well.
There was karaoke at the AmPav that night. I didn't really do much singing, rather, I networked like crazy. I ended up talking to these fun British and Russian dudes. We talked film. politics, and sang along to Bohemian Rhapsody. It was a great time.
Unfortunately, too great a time, as I missed the train by a minute. Actually, I was there on time but my caution was what caused me to miss it. You see, I got there right on schedule, but I wasn't sure if it was the right train. I asked some woman if it was, but she didn't speak English, so she asked her friends if they did, and they didn't, and then one of her friends started searching for one who did, and by the time someone told my in English that it was the right train, the train was long gone.
I ended up finding out from a couple of Italians that the bus goes to Juan-Les-Pins. The bus was an hour late. But on the plus side, I met up with that Indian woman from the Indian pavilion who's staying in the residence. We talked and rode together back to Juan Les Pins. The only problem: We didn't no how to get back from the bus stop.
Funny story, we ran into 3 British dudes and I asked for directions in Spanish having mistakenlu thought they were speaking it when we heard them from afar. They didn't quite know how to answer and were arguing amongst themselves as to what I said. So I asked again in plain American English and their jaws dropped. All three at the same time went "SHE SPEAKS ENGLISH?!?!". That gave me and the Indian woman a good laugh on our way home/.
You see, I've gone about this festival with a philosophy of just seeing movies based on title alone to go in more unbiased. Doing so has given me a whole spectrum of movies to view, be they the next classics or worse than The Room. Now I can catch up on the best things since there's no more muddled water to wade through, so to speak.
What I ended up seeing were Savauge, La Hora de los Hornos, and The Harvesters. Savauge is a film I can only describe as gay porn with a melodrama's plot. La Hora de los Hornos was Argentine communist propaganda from the 1960's filmed like a city symphony. The Harvestors seemed to have been written by someone who really needs to see a therapist.
Then after that, I tried to find out what people were doing that free weekend, nly to find out that everyone had booked without my knowledge. At first, I got really defensive and thought people hid plans from me because I'd pissed them off somehow, only to realize that everyone had planned the day I couldn't get my phone onto wifi to save it's life. Oh well.
There was karaoke at the AmPav that night. I didn't really do much singing, rather, I networked like crazy. I ended up talking to these fun British and Russian dudes. We talked film. politics, and sang along to Bohemian Rhapsody. It was a great time.
Unfortunately, too great a time, as I missed the train by a minute. Actually, I was there on time but my caution was what caused me to miss it. You see, I got there right on schedule, but I wasn't sure if it was the right train. I asked some woman if it was, but she didn't speak English, so she asked her friends if they did, and they didn't, and then one of her friends started searching for one who did, and by the time someone told my in English that it was the right train, the train was long gone.
I ended up finding out from a couple of Italians that the bus goes to Juan-Les-Pins. The bus was an hour late. But on the plus side, I met up with that Indian woman from the Indian pavilion who's staying in the residence. We talked and rode together back to Juan Les Pins. The only problem: We didn't no how to get back from the bus stop.
Funny story, we ran into 3 British dudes and I asked for directions in Spanish having mistakenlu thought they were speaking it when we heard them from afar. They didn't quite know how to answer and were arguing amongst themselves as to what I said. So I asked again in plain American English and their jaws dropped. All three at the same time went "SHE SPEAKS ENGLISH?!?!". That gave me and the Indian woman a good laugh on our way home/.
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