Most of the films thus far (in Competition, far more than in the other sections
of the fest) have been so half-baked, I've been contemplating putting my
head in the oven. Then, today, along came two movies that threw some torque
into the torpor.
Jean-Francois Richet's "Crack 6T" (Cinemas en France) is a bracing,
utterly irresponsible call for France's disenfranchised youth to raze the
nation and its institutions to the ground. Richet, himself a child of the
projects, financed his first film "Etat des Lieux" by gambling
several months worth of unemployment checks at a casino. For his sophomore
effort, Richet has benefitted from more traditional funding sources. With
no apparent irony, he thanks Marx, Lenin, Engels and Daniel Toscan du Plantier
(the exceedingly well-to-do head of Unifrance) within inches of each other
in the closing credits.
I got into a long conversation after the screening with two French women
- one a high school teacher and one an assistant programmer at a cinema
- who were riled and incensed that this film will be released in French
theaters in a matter of weeks. They've already had first-hand experience
with showing teenagers films that are supposed to discourage violence only
to find their young charges shouting "Let him have it! Blow his brains
out! Rape the bitch!" as the intended lesson in Gahdi-like behavior
unfolds. So what, they want to know, can possibly be gained by showing a
slick flick in which teens and young adults shoplift, steal cars and shoot
at their peers when they're not demolishing property with baseball bats?
The day's other compelling surprise is Abbas Kiarostami's "Taste of
Cherry." The Iranian director - who was not expected to be allowed
to attend the festival at all and whose arrival was confirmed mere days
ago - entered the auditorium to a lengthy standing ovation.
As with Iran's other incredibly talented filmmakers, Kiarostami is a master
at weaving something out of practically nothing. In "Independence Day,"
a representative of the mighty U.S. military and a computer expert save
the world. In Kiarostami's film, a berry saves a life. And guess which pic
is more plausible?
A 40-something man drives his car along terraced hills looking for a candidate
to help him with the concrete aspects of an existential dilemma. He conducts
"interviews" along the way with a Kurd soldier, an Afghan factory
guard, a foreign seminarian, a mellow employee of the Natural History museum.
The job he offers is technically (if not emotionally) simple and extremely
well paid by local standards.
After 45 minutes in the theater, I smell gasoline and the man in the row
behind me gets up and leaves. No doubt I see too many movies, but I can't
help thinking it wouldn't be impossible for a political extremist to blow
up the auditorium during an Iranian film. The smell dissipates and the Palais
remains intact.
The film's narrative drive is precisely that - a car journey through winding
tiered cliffs in search of a helper. "Taste of Cherry" is a less
pretentious and far more profound treatment of some of the themes around
which Johnny Depp spins his wheels in his directing debut "The
Brave." One man (played by Depp) resolves to go to his reward for
the sake of his family and the other (in Kiarostami's film) contemplates
going to his reward, for reasons known only to himself, leaving behind a
reward for someone else.
"Taste of Cherry" is rewarding and "The Brave" is taxing.
Speaking of financial windfalls from unusual sources, I am mortified to
discover than I may have eaten a million dollars during the Kiarostami.
That's a lot of berries, cherries, smackers, clams, what have you.
Earlier today in the American Pavillion, I invested 10 francs in a package
of M & M's imported from the U.S.. I opened and ate them in the dark
during the Kiarostami screening and put the wrapper in my shirt pocket.
When I looked at it later in the light, I spotted the contest notice explaining
that if you find gray candies in the package, you may have won a million
bucks. Great. While watching a (terrific) movie made for the Western equivalent
of $1.98 in which most of the characters talk about how they earn pennies
for long days of hard labor, I may have snacked my way out of Easy Street.
My other gustatory run-in with fate occured a few days ago in front of a
vending machine. Kit-Kat, one of the fest's official sponsors, has been
publishing entertaining Cannes trivia on its wrappers in France for several
months. In their contest, certain packages are supposed to contain a special
emblem good for free accommodation at one of the city's finest hotels and
a festival pass during the 50th anniversary. When I bought my Kit-Kat I
thought it would be poetic beyond compare to open the package standing in
Cannes only to find I'd won a trip to Cannes with all the trimmings.
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