CANNES: THE PARTIES, THE VIPS AND THE RAIN…
By Irene Splendorini
Let me explain how I ended up in Cannes. Yes of course I am an actress, but I am not in any of the competing movies… the National Film School in Rome provides badges to allow students into some of the most prestigious Film Festivals. So I was among twenty people, actors, producers, costume designers and photographers, landing in promenade de la Croisette. Our adventure began badly, we arrived in Cannes on a Saturday morning in which the glamorous city resembled a muddy bowl of soup.
All the fancy dresses in my bags got soaking wet. It was a nightmare. But as I like to say… there is nothing a group of girlfriends full of hopes can’t overcome! So we sat in ‘Rue d’Antibes’ and ordered a Rosé with a mixture of French cheese and we got ready to roll. At Cannes you have to be able to endure.
Endure the long lines to see the movies: if you have a simple ‘credit to the festival’ and not a special press card you have to stay on line for a minimum of an hour and a half and sometimes you may not get in; endure the idea that you have not been invited to any of the parties and you’ll have to pull every string possible in order to get an invitation; endure the fact that there is going to be a line for everything, from crossing the street to ordering a cheeseburger or grabbing a cab. Parties! With the proper team work you can get past any security.
You have to stand tall, be sharp and put on your best ‘you don’t know who I am’ face. By doing this I got to sit at the charity dinner organized by Eva Longoria. The Gipsy Kings were playing for guests like Jane Fonda, Dita Von Teese, Cheyenne Brando and the amazing Valeria Marini. I ate and danced, but I had to be careful not to raise my hand because of the auction that was taking place.
One of the paintings was an enormous, shocking red and electric blue portrait of Leonardo Di Caprio. I was able to get some regular invitations for Paolo Sorrentino’s première, ‘La Grande Bellezza’, as well as for Alexander Payne’s ‘Nebraska’. Men were wearing tuxedos but there was no dress code for women.
I walked on the red carpet, under the warmth of the big lights, ignored by the paparazzi but not by my friends iPhones. At the top of the stairs I spotted Nicole Kidman, president of the jury, with her white face under the flashes, like a princess in all her beauty. And then I realized that even the world of movies is a small world after all…