Postcard From Cannes!

By Nadia Dalimonte

Over one month has gone by since I left for a two-week trip to the French Riviera, and I’m still basking in the afterglow (not to mention missing those delicious croissants and baguettes). In May, I attended my first ever Cannes Film Festival representing Next Best Picture, and it truly was a life-changing experience. I felt the prestige of the world’s greatest film festival at every screening. I felt the grandeur in every theatre. The magic of the movies was everywhere, starting with several black-and-white photos of Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon from Thelma & Louise. The dynamic duo took me down memory lane of watching that film for the first time, falling in love with both Davis and Sarandon simultaneously. These icons served as daily reminders of the film’s 35th anniversary, and radiated the festival’s immense respect for honoring cinema history. This year’s Cannes Classics selection, a sidebar of the festival dedicated to restored prints of classic films, screened La Ciociara (Vittorio De Sica), The Devils (Ken Russell), and Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro) to name a few. While I didn’t get to explore this sidebar very much, I did kick off my first Cannes with none other than del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth, which had its world premiere at the festival twenty years ago. With del Toro and actress Ivana Baquero in attendance, it was magical to revisit this dark fairytale at the very place where it was first embrace, with the longest standing ovation (22 minutes) in Cannes history.

Where does one go from Pan’s Labyrinth? The bar was set high with a throwback, but the 79th Cannes Film Festival showcased plenty of gems from new and returning voices across the In Competition, Un Certain Regard, Critics’ Week, and Out of Competition sections. 

Lightning Bolts

After watching Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow, one of my favourite films of the decade, I became a Schoenbrun fan for life. Their new feature, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, continues to show why they are one of the boldest filmmakers around. Schoenbrun makes a meal out of the horror slasher genre, unearthing a vivid exploration of creativity and where our deepest desires come from. The film follows a young queer director (Hannah Einbinder) rebooting a cult classic franchise with the legendary “final girl” actress (Gillian Anderson) who starred in the original film. Anderson and Einbinder are a fever dream pairing. They each excel at playing the psychological tension and erotic yearning within their characters, which dovetails to an unforgettable conclusion.

Jordan Firstman knocked my socks off with his feature directorial debut, Club Kid. It’s a funny, bittersweet rollercoaster that lands every emotional high and low. Firstman brings a fresh, queer perspective to a coming-of-age story we’ve seen plenty of times before. This New York slice of life follows a washed-up club promoter (Firstman) forced to grow up when he discovers he has a son. The protagonist’s arc into emotional maturity gives the story a grounding foundation, and Firstman’s sharp sense of humor finds stellar humor in everyday scenarios. Full  of memorable characters whose personalities get to shine, this heartfelt gem is a real crowd pleaser.

At a point where the festival had become dominated by gently paced dramas, Na Hong-jin’s Hope arrived like a thunderous lightning bolt. I knew very little about the premise going in, which proved to be the perfect frame of mind for surrendering to such a bonkers experience. Hope is an electric, bafflingly good time. The direction lures you into a labyrinth, meticulously introducing a band of misfit characters who investigate a monstrous entity wreaking havoc on their town. The story doesn’t have much depth, but oh what fun it is to watch unfold. Go in knowing as little as possible and let Na Hong-jin’s uncompromising vision whisk you away.

As a first-timer at Cannes, I was advised that the buzziest premieres would arrive in the festival’s second week. Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo’s directorial feature debut did just that. The morning before my flight home, I got my trusty cappuccino and soaked in a sunny walk to the theatre for La Bola Negra, which had premiered to stunning reviews the evening before. This film absolutely blew me away. It’s a sprawling, poetic, queer epic about the lives we lose when we deny our authentic selves from existing. Set across three timelines (1932 Spain, the 1937 Civil War, and 2017 Spain), the story follows three men interconnected by sexuality and identity. Writing/directing duo Ambrossi and Calvo engage with past lives through the enduring power of storytelling. Brought to life by compelling performances and gorgeous crafts, this major work is one of the year’s must-see achievements.

Between La Bola Negra and new films by auteurs Lukas Dhont and Ira Sachs, queer stories were the talk of the town. Dhont’s latest, Coward, is a masterful exploration of sexuality and camaraderie, focused on male soldiers who fight to dream beyond the trenches. The Belgian filmmaker, known previously for Close, returns to his touchstones of intimacy and pathos through historical context. Set in World War I, the film follows two men who find each other in theatrical expression and become safe spaces. It’s an illuminating story that speaks to underrepresented perspectives of gay soldiers, whose war-torn love stories so often became lost. 

Ira Sachs’s The Man I Love incorporates musical, community-driven elements to great narrative effect. Set in 1980s New York City, the film follows Jimmy George (Rami Malek), a gay theater actor who has been diagnosed with AIDS. Much like Sachs’s previous work, it’s an intimate and contained piece of storytelling that favors complicated dynamics over easy answers. There’s a remarkable realism to how the film depicts George’s musings on legacy and mortality. We get inside the character’s psyche, bringing us up-close and personal to an extraordinary Malek performance. Defying conventional writing, Sachs paints a candid portrait of a performer.

Ah, the power of a delicately woven character study. It’s the driving force of Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet‘s A Woman’s Life, about an accomplished career woman whose bottled-up tension comes apart. Léa Drucker plays Gabrielle, a surgeon whose profession consumes her, and delivers a glowing performance that commands attention through nuance. Despite the film’s fairly rush pacing and excessively unnecessary chapters, Drucker has the towering ability to command a scene and build on her character’s conflict to brilliantly understated effect. Playing a woman rediscovering the parts of herself she had lost, Drucker’s performance lends to a compelling piece of introspection.

A still from Jane Schoenbrun’s Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma

Animation Is Cinema

From Robot Dreams to Flow, some of the most celebrated animated films in recent years had Cannes as a springboard. The animation showcase continued this year with several standouts including: Phuong Mai Nguyen’s In Waves, Sébastien Laudenbach’s Viva Carmen, and Leah Nelson’s Tangles. Part melodrama and part coming-of-age romance, In Waves is a luminous depiction of how grief comes in wave. It’s a vivid adaptation of AJ Dungo’s best-selling graphic novel of the same name. Nguyen works wonders on the narrative and visual front, adding cinematic dimension and retaining the heart of AJ’s story. The fluid animation style washes over you like an ocean breeze, and the voice acting by Will Sharpe and Stephanie Hsu brings plenty of heart. With the backing of Netflix, this sun-kissed directorial feature debut is sure to make a splash.

French director Sébastien Laudenbach, known for Chicken for Linda!, returns with a vibrant adaptation of George Bizet’s iconic opera. For those unfamiliar with the story, Laudenbach’s Viva Carmen serves as a sweet and straightforward entry point for younger generations. While understandably simplistic, Laudenbach tells the story in such an engaging and vibrant manner that one can’t help but feel won over by the artistry. The film resonates in a colorful, free-style visual language and takes creative liberties in ways only animation can. It’s a gorgeous version of Carmen that pulsates with a child-at-heart energy and features brilliant musical sequences that depict classic opera from a fresh perspective. The film smartly focuses on appealing to viewers of all ages, incorporating insightful themes and embracing a timeless story of fate. 

One of the most heart wrenching screenings at Cannes was Leah Nelson’s animated tearjerker, Tangles. Based on a graphic novel by Sarah Leavitt, Tangles follows a young queer woman navigating her mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s. It’s a heavy topic addressed with immaculate nuance and humanity. The animation style feels alive and electric, letting the subject matter take on various expressionistic shapes and meanings. Tender and full of heart, Nelson’s direction sparks meaningful conversations around caregiving, particularly how we grieve the living in real-time. Led by gorgeous voice performances, Julia Louis-Dreyfus among the major standouts, this film is an emotional coming-of-age knockout. 

A still from Leah Nelson’s Tangles

Charmers

Historically, the critical reception to Cannes openers have been quite hit or miss. Pierre Salvadori’s The Electric Kiss nearly falls into the latter category with a shaky final act, but miraculously sticks the landing. Sparks are flying in this endearing comedy of errors. Set in 1920s Paris, a young painter tries to contact his dead wife through a psychic, but is actually communicating with a carnival worker known as “Venus Electrificata.” One kiss is all it takes…Venus represents a quick fix of satisfaction, but Salvadori’s film plays a more patient love game. It’s a silly story of two lost souls who find their way to each other, all whilst balanced on a wacky tightrope. 

Zachary Wigon’s entertaining Victorian Psycho also boasts an impressive balance of tone. Based on Virginia Feito’s novel of the same name, the film is a fun entry in the “Good for her!” cinematic universe. It’s The Innocents meets American Psycho, atmospheric setting and blood-soaked imagery galore. Maika Monroe plays Winifred Notty, a governess who strives to become worthy of the family she’s been hired to care for. Winifred pulls herself together just enough to make a trusty impression, but her unruly tendencies seep through. Monroe’s commanding performance takes us on a mad rollercoaster that’s been heading off the rails from the jump.

It’s Complicated

Several films tackled thorny, timely subject matter with a singular vision. Pawel Pawlikowski knows exactly what he wants, and wastes no time getting there. He’s precise, striking, and incredibly poetic. Fatherland, much like Pawlikowski’s previous work (Cold War; Ida) has a fully realized narrative without ever feeling overindulgent or overlong. Succinct and elegantly made, Fatherland journeys into tough European history and grapples with how characters perceive the world in a post-war landscape. The story follows Nobel Prize-winning writer Thomas Mann (Hanns Zischler) and his daughter, Erika (Sandra Hüller), as they return to a morally conflicted Germany. Hüller is having a phenomenal year between this film, Project Hail Mary, and upcoming roles in Digger and Rose. In Fatherland, she continues to show she’s a once-in-a-generation talent. It’s a striking portrait of emotional restraint, much like a few other standout premieres…

There are no easy answers in Cristian Mungiu’s Fjord, a morally stressful story powered by uncompromising ambiguity. Sebastian Stan and Cannes queen Renate Reinsve play an immigrant Romanian couple whose family becomes scrutinized in the midst of a troubling investigation. Stan and especially Reinsve deliver masterful and subtle performances, working wonders with challenging characters. It’s an intriguing, knotty drama that trusts the audience to piece together the nuances. Marie Kreutzer instills a great deal of trust in the audience with her latest, Gentle Monster, a bold and unflinching drama. Léa Seydoux plays Lucy, a musician who lives in the countryside with her family. What begins as a routine morning turns dark when Lucy’s husband, Philip (Laurence Rupp), is arrested on allegations of possessing child sexual abuse images. The investigation calls into question everything Lucy thought she knew. The film centers on her perspective as she navigates how to approach each day forward. Seydoux’s gut-wrenching performance at the center makes Gentle Monster a tough, but compelling watch. 
  
Returning auteurs Hirokazu Kore-eda (Sheep in the Box), Asghar Farhadi (Parallel Tales), and Pedro Almodóvar (Bitter Christmas) had relatively muted premieres, though Almodóvar’s latest lingers most upon reflection. The dual storylines of Bitter Christmas are quite conflicting, but the film features a terrific cast, along with the vibrant touchstones of his signature style.

A still from Marie Kreutzer’s Gentle Monster

Under the Radar

The beauty of film festivals is discovering little-known gems that aren’t on everyone’s most anticipated list. British filmmaker Clio Barnard delivered a sensitive knock out with I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning. Based on Keiran Goddard’s book of the same name, it’s a slice-of-life drama that follows five childhood friends through adulthood. The characterizations, powered by insightful writing and a brilliant ensemble, make you feel as though you really know this friend group. Realism echoed throughout plenty of other Cannes gems, including the directorial feature debuts of Sompot Chidgasornpongse (9 Temples to Heaven), Abinash Bikram Shah (Elephants in the Fog), and Maria Martínez Bayona (The End of It). Each one features strong ensembles, memorable visual languages, and visions that challenge our attitudes towards life. Explorations of Thailand temples, Nepalese Kinnar communities, and futuristic age-defying technologies give way to standout stories of identity and mortality.

Deep Cuts

After the brilliance of Drive My Car, I became a Ryusuke Hamaguchi fan for life. His latest, All of a Sudden, did not disappoint. This is gentle, hopeful filmmaking at its absolute finest. Hamaguchi tells the story of care facility director Marie-Lou (Virginie Efira) and theater director Mari (Tao Okamato), who form a deep friendship and gain profound outlooks on life. Efira and Okamato deservingly shared the Best Actress prize at Cannes for their gorgeous work.

Amongst my favourite performances out of the festival, Sophie Okenedo and India Amarteifio brilliantly play the same character from different time periods in Clarissa. Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway is not the easiest novel to adapt. Nigerian twin brothers Arie and Chuko Esiri reimagine the Woolf classic in a Lagos-set story. The film draws complex relationship observations from a socialite’s party, which reunites a group of longtime friends. It’s gorgeously filmed, with a unique perspective on beloved material and a staying power that dovetails to a lively conclusion.

When Austrian director Sandra Wollner introduced her new film, Everytime, to its first ever audience, she hoped that we would carry the story with us long after the end credits roll. It’s been over a month since the festival, and I’m still thinking about Wollner’s haunting family drama. In the aftermath of a tragedy, Everytime traces how characters square their emotions and deal with unimaginable grief under a shared roof. The film was a deserved top prize winner in the Un Certain Regard section, which celebrates innovative styles of filmmaking. Talking of haunting, Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Minotaur is an astonishing exercise in meticulous storytelling. This chilling Grand Prix winner reflects modern Russia in moral turmoil, showing how evil comes from choosing to remain silent in the face of wrongdoing. Told through the perspective of a strained marriage, the film is masterful at building tension and locks you into an incredibly thick atmosphere of dread. It’s an unforgettable depiction of corruption.

The overall festival had notably less of an American Hollywood presence compared to previous lineups, and it felt refreshing to see greater focus on international films as a result. From All of a Sudden and La Bola Negra to Everytime and Fatherland, this Cannes was certainly one for the books, and I look forward to more memories on the French Riviera!

​Follow along with me at @nadiareviews for more festival coverage.

A still from Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s All of a Sudden