…because, in a switcheroo familiar to many Cannes veterans (didn’t this happen with Rosetta, too?), the Palme D’or went to the last film in the Competition, Laurent Cantet’s fact-based The Class, the last film shown in the comp but one that I could have seen had I not been blogging to the point of time-distraction into its noon Friday screening. Damn. I heard it was actually good, too.
Zip for Waltz With Bashir, although in fairness (condolences is maybe the better word) to myself, I wasn’t the only one betting. I’m about to leave the house now (I know, that’s a Jonah Goldberg excuse, but it’s actually true and I could be actually killed if I don’t move my butt), but my indieWIRE buddies have got all the awards covered.
I said it in the print version of Première, and I’ll say it again: Never, ever try to predict what a Cannes jury will do. More later, including gratification over the recognition of Gomorra and head-scratching over the recognition of Il Divo. Is Italian cinema back?
THE CLASS looks like French mumblecore.
Wouldn’t put you in a charge of a sports book with your choices being made with a political and personal bias against the judge. You have a plate of crow to eat after your comments about Sean Penn.
Yeah, exactly—Sean Penn is now a saint and a visionary because I wasn’t able to correctly predict the Palme D’or winner. Fact is, his jury did exactly what his press conference statements implied it would do—privileged the “socially conscious” films over everything else in the competition. The most cynical among us could conceivably argue that it was only a happy coincidence that the socially conscious films in the competition were of high quality. I wouldn’t go that far. But I’m gonna pass on the plate of crow as well.