Cannes 2009: After The Dust Settled

By Simon Gallagher /

So it's been a week now since the red carpet rolled its weary way back up the main steps of the Palais des Festivals, and high time I posted my closing words... A Note On The Winners Proof if ever it were needed that, despite the innumerate accusations that Cannes has steadily dumbed down since Tarantino walked away with the Palm d'Or, that the judges cannot be swayed by the often irresistible charms of the more commercial films in competition. Here follows a selection of the winners...

Advertisement
Palm d'Or Winner- The White Ribbon Grand Prix Winner- A Prophet Director- Alain Resnais [Wild Grass] Jury Prize- Fish Tank Thirst Actor- Christoph Waltz [Inglourious Basterds] Actress- Charlotte Gainsbourg [Antichrist] A major shame that Ken Loach could come away with any more than the Ecumenical Prize for Looking For Eric- though no more of a surprise than the decision to ignore Taking Woodstock. Christoph Waltz's performance in Inglourious Basterds deserves as many plaudits as will surely come its way, with the holiest of all a good bet next February, but Charlotte Gainsbourg looks more than a little lucky to have been favoured over mesmerising new-comer Katie Jarvis (Fish Tank). But then, it has become patently obvious that my opinions do not always recommend the wider views of the critical community... Taking Woodstock- A Defence I simply cannot fathom it. Im not usually one for commenting on the critical opinions of others, as I believe one of the best things abotu the way OWF approach reviews is our adherence to a manifesto of presenting our own voice, but sometimes you have to come out in defence of something that you feel strongly about. I came out of the Taking Woodstock screening on Friday more than happy with what i had just seen, yet in giving it a positive review (see it here) I seem to be in the overwhelming minority. Where I saw a subtle look at relationships set against this profoundly important moment in musical (and American) history, everyone else seems to have seen a lapse in form from Ang Lee- an annoyingly frequent characteristic of the first run of reviews was the critics' clamour for footage of the concert itself. I wonder how they imagine this would fit into Lee's body of work- Taking Woodstock never purported to be a biopic of the festival, in fact it never purported to be anything other than Elliott Tiber's story (something some reviews notably failed to even acknowledge). Personally, I didnt want Lee to change his style in order to accomodate concert footage- he is the master of displaying relationships and of encouraging the dynamic between characters (an element of film-making I perpetually drone on about in all of my reviews), and the approach he took- of pinpointing the moment of the concert's birth through the very specific filter of the Tiber family's own genesis feels a more appropriate addition to his canon of work. Lee's directorial identity in his films, in my opinion at least, is most visible in his characters, rather than in aesthetic or stylistic footprints, and Taking Woodstock dully stays faithful to that manifesto. I enjoyed Taking Woodstock infinitely more than Lust, Caution and would suggest that it will reach a vastly bigger audience even despite the general consensus that Lee hasnt stretched himself to reach the potential of the project. I must have been sitting in a different theatre to those who say they were bored to apathy by the supposedly meandering narrative and largely superfluous scenes (one of which- the acid scene- I heralded as one of the best), as the reaction en masse was a fair distance from that which has been slowly appearing in print over the past two days or so. Lee may well be a victim of his own success- Brokeback Mountain will go down in history as one of the most important films of the decade (regardless of what i personally feel about it), and the move to present one of the defining moments in American popular culture in Taking Woodstock may have been misconstrued as another epic message, when really the projects success is down to the fact that it stears clear of the main event. The cleverest achievement of Ang Lee's film- and the thing that should have been applauded widely- is its insistence on the importance of the micro-narrative in a film that is seemingly so historical and its unflinching dedication to the personal over the universal. I order to court empathy, a movie requires its audience to relate to its narrative and a film that simply showed the progress of the most iconic music festival in history without an enduring human element would have been an empty experience in comparison to Lee's achievement. But still the critics form their poisonous words... Since negative criticism inevitably courts more attention, I am even beginning to suspect that some of my colleagues in criticism (even the most esteemed), and am growing increasingly BORED of consciously controversial or provocative film journalism that is seemingly more interested in gathering reaction (usually in the form of comment on the net) regardless of the tone of that reaction than with upholding a sense of integrity. It seems to be becoming unfashionable to give a film credit- 90% of all reviews seek to forefront the weaknesses of a project; the majority of features deal in stereotypes (knocking certain elements of the movie fan world: whether fanboys, tweens or otherwise); and bloggers seem more intent upon self-promotion and sticking to an assumed persona (while knocking directors who essentially do the same thing). It's all getting a little testing. Overall HighlightsInglourious Basterds, followed by Drag Me to Hell. The best four hours of the festival. Shooting the breeze with Matt Dentler at The Grande. That first neck-craning look at the Palais des Festivals. Watching the ticket whores from the safety of the Press Balcony. Overall Lowlights Taxis. Cannes injuries: Mosquito bite to the eye being the chief malady. 17 Euros for suncream. I'm still reeling. The critical reception of Taking Woodstock. Reallising the French really do hate the English. Returning.