Since I usually cover Cannes from afar, it was interesting to me to watch how the consensus formed. Whenever we would read news and reports from Cannes, or any other festival, btw, we are putting our trust in the consensus. I’ve now discovered that is the wrong way to go. The only time to really pay attention to the consensus is Oscar time. Before that, it would be crippling to do so.
I saw several complete films at Cannes this year. Only one of them is being considered a “consensus pick.” And by that I mean it will land atop the critics’ polls and be talked about on many of the sites covering the fest as the “best.” The only website I’ve seen mention the Korean film Poetry, directed by Lee Chang-dong, has been Hollywood-Elsewhere and that is mainly for its lead actress, Yun Jung-hee. She joins Lesley Manville and Michelle Williams as the lead women standouts (I didn’t see Fair Game so maybe Naomi Watts gets added to the list).
Poetry is easily one of the best films to show at Cannes, and strangely enough, one of the few that could be anywhere near the Kodak next Feb. But when I listened to chatter in the press room about it the reception seemed to be a bit muted; I didn’t get a lot of enthusiasm for the film. This was a common occurrence at Cannes for me. Most of the films I thought were exceptional weren’t the ones the others were covering at the fest. And at some point it became a real bummer.
Here is an example of what I mean. This review by Karin Badt (who is listed as HuffPo as a theater and film teacher in France – so that makes her French, I guess), writes up Poetry this way:
The first quote is from director Lee Chang-dong at the press conference, followed by her assessment of the film’s faults:
“Of course, poetry can be used to forget reality — as the woman forgets the subject of the rape when she sees the flowers. But I also want to show poetry is life. Finding joy in the little things. The invisible forces behind things.”
The problem with the film is that it has the same vagueness as the director’s words, when it comes to its deeper meaning. Beautifully shot in the Korean countryside—and bearing such a sensitive message—the film, for all its lyricism, never hits the poetic punchline. We glean that poetry is the answer—and we are moved by the would-be poets’ attempts (in stumbling monologues) to discover the beauty in their lives (this is a true highlight in the film)—but somehow it remains wishful thinking.
The very thing that she calls vague about the film is exactly what makes it stand out. It doesn’t give you everything all at once; it flows like a river and things come to surface and then disappear. If I were an American producer I would snatch this movie up so fast to remake it. We don’t often see stories with this much complexity. And then it hit me again about what it is that makes us like or dislike a movie. Part of it has to be our expectations. Part of it is what the filmmaker sets us up for and whether it delivered. But part of it has to be our own collection of experiences in life.
And so I wrote on Twitter than one has to have either extraordinary depth or life experience to appreciate a film like Biutiful. But I retracted it shortly thereafter because I knew it was wrong immediately. What I meant by it wasn’t that people could “only like the film if…” Appreciation is a different thing altogether.
But it was wrong — if you’re ever in Cannes, and you tend towards being a passionate person anyway, the lack of enthusiasm for really great films DOES start to wear on you. And add that to very little sleep, too much coffee and the result is craziness all around. You should hear some of the spats that go on in the press room towards the end of the fest. But, yeah, of course can have extraordinary depth OR life experience and still not appreciate Biutiful.
What we have now is a unique period in the Oscar race. Ten years ago I would cover Cannes and I would report on maybe five people from here covering the fest. If you were lucky, you got maybe a review from Kenneth Turan, one from the New York Times, perhaps Roger Ebert would toss out a review. But it wasn’t a common thing to do.
And the reviews weren’t instant. They were well thought out, well written and they didn’t become a consensus because it wasn’t really about that. Oh, how times have changed.
Now, people like me are flying over to Cannes, seeing everything and writing up reviews instantly. And Twitter has become the one-stop shopping for the insta review boiled down to 140 characters. “Another dud,” I wrote about the Woody Allen movie. Does it make a difference?
I don’t call myself a film critic because I think there are still very few people who are actually critics and who are good enough to be critics. It isn’t enough that one has spent a decade watching and loving movies, nor that one has an internet connection and a website; it has to be more selective than that. I know I don’t make a lot of friends in the press room or on Twitter by talking this way, but I feel it especially after going to Cannes.
I don’t know if it’s the same at other festivals but we aren’t seeing these films in ideal conditions. The theaters are fine, but we see them sometimes five, six a day. I think my max was four in one day. I can tell you with absolute certainty, and you can read it as arrogance if you’d like, but there is just no way anyone can be sure of a film’s quality when it’s the fifth one you’re seeing that day.
Therefore, I would urge my fellow Cannes-goers to be more patient with their reaction to movies. Keep the door open, as it were, to possible changes in feeling over time. Just a thought.
