As the 50th edition of the storied Cannes Film Festival faded like dissolving star bursts over dark Mediterranean waters, the dreams of what had been billed as the greatest cinema event of the half-century fizzled as well.
But neither was it catastrophic or mediocre–though some critics there griped and groaned to the end.
For me, Cannes ’97 was both a glorious and painful affair. Glorious because, in paying tribute to its half-century heritage–all the festivals between Cannes’ debut in 1946 to now–the current directors reminded us how much we owe to international cinema in general and this special showcase in particular.
(It was at Cannes, after all, that the world first discovered many of the key international filmmakers from the late ’40s on: from Italy’s Roberto Rossellini and Michelangelo Antonioni, Sweden’s Ingmar Bergman, and India’s Satyajit Ray to France’s Francois Truffaut and Louis Malle and America’s Robert Altman and Quentin Tarantino.)
Painful because until the beginning of the second week, most of the new competition films were overshadowed by non-competitive pictures (like Bergman and Liv Ullmann’s searing “Private Confessions” and Manoel De Oliveira’s serene “Journey to the Beginning of the World”) and by the retrospective at the Hotel Miramar’s theater of older “Cannes classics” –from “Open City” and “The Third Man” of the ’40s to “Freeze, Die, Come to Life” and “Reservoir Dogs” of the ’90s.
In those 12 days of Cannes, there seemed a constant battle between cinema past and movies present. Cannes has always been a delicate balancing act between art and show biz, hoopla and seriousness, but here, the glitz often seemed to have the upper hand. The fest started out with French director’ Luc Besson’s rambunctious sci-fi fantasy with Bruce Willis, “The Fifth Element,” and closed with Clint Eastwood’s blockbuster “Absolute Power.”
And in between, there were star turns by anyone and everyone, from Beavis and Butthead all the way to John Travolta, Catherine Deneuve and Jeanne Moreau. Twenty-nine former Palme d’Or winning directors shared the stage at the 50th editions ceremony–including Michelangelo Antonioni, still suffering the aftermath of his mid-’80s stroke. The Spice Girls, Howard Stern and Michael Jackson were there too, though only Jackson had a movie in the fest (“Ghosts”).
Despite all this excitement, or maybe because of it, the festival had a weak start. It was the outstanding group of films which arrived in the last four days–including Abbas Kiarostami’s co-Palme d’Or winner from Iran “The Taste of Cherry,” the American “L. A. Confidential” and “She’s So Lovely” (with Best Actor winner Sean Penn), Best Director winner “Happy Together” (by Hong Kong’s Wong Kar-Wai), the Egyptian “Al Massir” (which won director Youssef Chahine the Prix du Cinquantieme, a career award) and Atom Agoyan’s Canadian Grand Prize winner “The Sweet Hereafter”–that recaptured the old Cannes magic.
By the end, a smart and daring jury headed by Isabelle Adjani, helped salvage the real movie art from an affair that seemed in danger of becoming a failed, bloated, ersatz extravaganza. The jury split the 50th edition Palme d’Or between the work of two cinematic masters from Japan and Iran: Shohei Imamura’s “The Eel” (about the love affair of a ex-convict) and Kiarostami’s “Taste of Cherry,” (about a determined would-be suicide trying to recruit his own grave digger. In dividing the award, they celebrated the personal, poetic, iconoclastic and creative side of world moviemaking over the bombastic, shallow and flashy. There was plenty of both at Cannes’ 50th.
Both these films, despite their top prizes, may still have trouble reaching U.S. screens. But, like all Cannes champions, they’ve gained the imprimatur of a festival that assumes its preeminence partly through history–it was first planned as the world’s key film showcase to offset the fascist excesses of the Mussolini-dominated Venice Film Festival in the 1930s–but also through vast cinephile tradition.
For many people around the world, Cannes is queen because French remains the language of serious film appreciation. Paris, after all, is the home of the first film library, Cinematheque and also the world capitol of movie-mania and seed bed for the dominant trends in film studies: auteurism, which celebrates art in film, and “film theory,” a heavily politicized reaction.
So, what better place to mix art and politics–or artistry and industry–than at Cannes? Begun by founder and first director Robert Favre Le Bret in 1946, continued by Maurice Bessy and now Jacob, the Cannes Film Festival, at its best, stands for both cinematic discovery and movie tradition, for the joy and excitement of moviemaking in all its forms and varieties. It was when the tradition was downplayed that this fest stumbled–as with the embarrassing absence from the official competition of director Liv Ullmann and writer Ingmar Bergman’s “Private Confessions.” )
In relegating Bergman and Liv Ullmann–or Jean Luc Godard (“Histoire(s) du Cinema”) and De Oliveira and his late star Marcello Mastroianni (with “Journey to the Beginning of the World”) to the second tier in this anniversary year, Cannes elevated the rage of the moment over the classicism of the past. There has always been that temptation and danger in Cannes: which has always been a combination of art and foolishness, show biz and high seriousness. The fest would not have its special flavor if Robin Williams, Sigourney Weaver, Danny DeVito or Sean Penn weren’t chatting with reporters on the terraces while gems from Egypt, New York’s East Village or Burkina Fasso unreeled in the Palais.
Movies are an international language. And Cannes, at its best, embraces all kinds of moviemaking, from the showiest Hollywood blockbuster to the most personal document from the tiniest country. There is, and should be, a place for Luc Besson, Bruce Willis, “The Fifth Element” and “Absolute Power,” and also one for De Oliveira, Mastroianni and “Journey to the Beginning of the world.” Let’s hope both sides have their seats at Cannes’ 51st.
BEST OF THE FEST
1. “Private Confessions” (Sweden; director: Liv Ullmann). Infidelity and religion; one of Ingmar Bergman’s best scripts.
2. “The Taste of Cherry” (Iran; Abbas Kiarostami). A serene meditation on suicide.
3. “The Voyage to the Beginning of the World” (Portugal; Manoel De Oliveira). De Oliveira’s urbane reminiscence; star Marcello Mastroianni’s swan song.
4. “Histoire(s) du Cinema” (Two parts) (France; Jean-Luc Godard). A melancholy rumination on cinema past and present.
5. “The Eel” (Japan; Shohei Imamura.) Dark comedy about murder, love, eels and fishing villages.
6. “The Sweet Hereafter” (Canada; Atom Egoyan). From Russell Banks’ novel, Egoyan’s most accessible and emotional film.
7. “Marius and Jeanette” (France; Robert Guediguian). A wonderful romantic comedy set in modern Marseilles.
Also: “The Ice Storm” (U.S.); “Al Massir” (Egypt); “Happy Together” (Hong Kong); “My Son, the Fanatic” (Britain); “She’s So Lovely” (U.S.); “L.A. Confidential” (U.S.).
