So close to the closing

Last weekend I was in Cannes to meet one of my best friends Kathi and her boyfriend Gareth, who just came back after spending 9 months in Sierra Leone. Fortunately this correlated with the film festival and my boyfriend managed to get us accreditations, which made us very excited about the movies. On Saturday, however, we did not feel like cinema, so we just enjoyed some drinks in Cannes, and later the party of ‘La source des femmes’ in a rustic villa.

Although we woke up early and full of motivation, we missed (due to traffic jams on the road) the first movie we wanted to watch: ‘The tree of life’ by Terence Malick, which won the Palm d’or. Nevertheless we could get into the next movie ‘Michael’ the film debut of austrian Markus Schleinzer. I guess this was the most disturbing film I saw for a long time. The movie tells the story of Michael, a pedophile guy, who has abducted a 10 year old boy, and kept him in his cellar since, raping him repeatedly. With distant, unemotional pictures Markus Schleinzer depicts the everyday life and the ‘living together’ of the pedophile and his victim, which even increases the oppressive atmosphere of the movie. Sometimes the absurdity of the single scenes and the matter-of fact description of the whole situation made me nearly vomit. In my opinion it was important to make this controversial movie and to overtly address a crime that has been tabooed for too long. All in all a well done movie that continues the austrian tradition of social milieu-realism.

Foto by Kathrin Schmidt

Leaving the auditorium in a kind of shell- shocked state, we all needed a deep breath, but the next movie was already waiting: ‘La piel que habito’ by Pedro Almodóvar. After the first half, my boyfriend received a SMS, saying that we have 4 invitations for the closing ceremony of the festival, which was about to start in 30 min. In total excitement we left the rather inventive and very aesthetic movie behind to get more appropriate clothes from the car. In between Gareth, who did not take his dinner jacket with him, was trying on a suit by a friend of Vincent. After we were running through the town, struggling with police, paparazzis and overdressed tourists, we finally arrived at the place where we had parked the car- just without the car: It had been impounded by the overeager gendarmerie of Cannes, including all our fancy clothes. Hence we were too late for the ceremony , so we decided to take things slowly and to have an extensive dinner in Antibes.

It was a great weekend – special thanks goes to Vincent’s friend Van Papadopoulos, who got us all the accreditations & invitations and helped us a lot!

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