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Jane Clark - Cannes Journal
Day 9
 Jane Clark is at the Cannes Film Festival and it writing a daily blog about her adventures at the top film festival in the world
Day 9 The last few days have been non-stop meetings, with no time to breath. Hence the missed blog day. But just like every market type festival, things are starting to slow down. Meetings are dropping off, Parties are dwindling. Companies are packing up their booths. People are leaving. I might actually get to see a movie or two over the next two days. And I’ll have time to make sense of all the meetings, business cards, promises made and promises given. Hopefully, when the smoke clears, I’ll find that most of the time spent will prove worthwhile, and the bulk of the experience will be legitimate. I say that because it is sometimes difficult to figure out what and who is real. For instance, friends of mine have been working a particular high net worth individual. Or at least that’s how he represents himself. But every day they’ve seen him he is wearing the same clothes that get progressively rattier, he’s still waiting for cash to be wired and no business has been done. Yet he seems to know everyone, shows up at all the bank parties, and has enough cash to stay somewhere and eat in this town, which is not cheap, no matter how frugal one is. Until they know for sure how legitimate he is, they go along. And you’ll hear similar stories from any number of people about the eccentric billionaires who just want to be around the film business, the wanna be actors and actresses looking to be discovered, the horror producers schlocking their bloody wares, the leeches looking to benefit off of other people’s hard work. Sounds like Hollywood? Perhaps, but here it happens in 20 different languages, on a seemingly vastly larger scale. On the flip side you can hang out at the Majestic and see celebrities flitting in and out like one of us mere mortals. Yesterday brought the gang from Entourage who are shooting a scene for an upcoming episode at the premiere of “Ocean’s 13” tonight. They strutted through in a pack, as if they can’t separate themselves from their television roles. Malcolm McDowell was there, speaking loudly enough to draw attention to himself. Mischa Barton floated through looking very elegant and adult, though as soon as she spoke, her “American-ness” showed through, for better or worse. Gus Van Sant was conversing in a corner, inconspicuous and unassuming. And that was all in the span of 15 minutes. When you a celebrity you go to the Majestic lounge, because chances are you are staying there. (Unless you are Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Jerry Seinfeld or the like. Then you stay at the Hotel du Cap, a grossly expensive, absolutely stunning, ultra-luxe hotel outside the main area of Cannes, reachable by towncar and driver.) When you are an unknown actor, you hang out at the tents in the international pavilion. I was in the Kodak pavilion, having a glass of champagne and chatting about a project I have that shoots a few days in France. Seconds after the words were out of my mouth, a woman came over and said, in a thick French accent. “Oh, you are shooting in Paris? I am an actress,” and whipped out her card. She was quickly followed by two other French actresses, who had overheard her. And there it is again, Room for everyone on every level of the business – including the schlock slingers, and the wanna be’s, and hangar on’s, and the eccentric billionaires, and the aspiring whatevers. At this market, everyone has a chance to make their dreams come true. With any luck I’ll leave here a little closer to mine.
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