I absolutely can not believe that it’s been 6 years since I was last in Cannes, Frances, surrounded by all of the big-time International Filmmakers at the Cannes Film Festival. As a university student, who was not working, but actually attending the festival, I had the opportunity to not only experience the festival BUT also connect with some pretty amazing people, while also running the Pommes et Bananes a Cannes blog, AND turning into a full-on film critic. I was living life.
Back in 2016, I created a “Choose Your Own Adventure” style Cannes Film Festival Experience, and I’m bringing it back! This experience is for ANYONE. If you’ve been (especially as a UGA student), it’ll be quite reminiscent. If you haven’t had the opportunity to go to the Cannes Film Festival yet, then you’re in for a treat. Take notes, so you’ll know what to do and what not to do while attending the Cannes Film Festival!
Also! If you’re headed to the Cannes Film Festival or happen to be visiting France, check out my cool checklist of what to do, and not to do while in France!
Choose Your Own Adventure: The Cannes Film Festival Experience
No matter what you decide on, you will have a realistic Cannes experience, in this “choose your own adventure” style story. Enjoy!
*The events and conversations that are included in this story are mostly true, but they are not presented in the order in which they occurred. No names have been included (due mostly to me forgetting them).
The alarm blares loudly. I’m too lazy to get up, but I manage to hit the snooze button exactly at 6:40 AM. I’m starting to regret staying out the night before, as I muster up enough energy to get out of bed. There is an 8:30 AM premier that I want to get to, and the train comes at 7:12 AM.
I rush to the bathroom to get ready. I grab a piece of bread and slather blueberry jam on it, and eat it as fast as I can. I get to the train station just as the train is pulling up. I hop on the train and I’m on my way. I head to the “Last Minute” line as soon as I get to Cannes and proceed to wait. After the movie, I head to about three more movies.
I spend the majority of my day watching movies, falling asleep in bad movies, talking to random professionals and film buffs, as well as catching up with other UGA students. At about 6:00 PM I’m exhausted and a bit confused as to what I want to do for the rest of the night.
I could either try to get into tonight’s movie premiere or head back to the residence. [Choose an option]
Attempting to get the “Red Carpet” Experience
I head to the nearest hotel to switch out from my day clothes, into my evening wear. I chat with other UGA students as we plot out where exactly we’ll stand to beg for evening premiere tickets.
I decide to stand as close as possible to the entrance to catch anyone who’s attending the premiere, just as they’re heading to the red carpet.
I learned early that begging for tickets was a hard task, and it was something that I was NOT into. It was a shameless task and took a great deal of confidence. It broke my heart to stand there in a sparkly floor-length dress holding a sign that spelled out my request, “un billet s’il vous plait”
As I stand people stare, kids point, some chuckle, and people squint in an attempt to understand the sign.
“It’s un with an ‘e’” says one guy.
“What has an ‘e’?” I briefly entertain him, because you never know who could have a ticket.
“You have only u-n. It needs an ‘e’. Une is one. You need a place for what?” continues the man.
“There’s a premiere tonight and I’m trying to get a ticket to watch the film,” I say.
“You have a badge but no place?” the man says genuinely puzzled.
“That’s right,” I say, hoping that this conversation will lead to a ticket.
“Well good luck!” the man says as he walks away.
A few other oddball characters walk up to me during the hour and a half that I am standing with my sign. There was a guy who wanted to talk about his family from Florida after I’d lied about being from Florida (big mistake).
There was also a guy from Poland, who genuinely didn’t understand why I was begging for tickets. He made a point to repeatedly call me crazy for doing it, as he walked away. At this point, I’d dedicated so much time and didn’t care about anything but getting a ticket.
I was convinced about an hour into it that I would not have any luck tonight. I just happened to run into another UGA student who got an extra ticket. I snatched the ticket and rushed to the red carpet.
Head back to the Residence
I decide to head over to the American Pavilion (AMPAV) Tent to wait for the next train to come. There I spot a few other UGA students sitting outside. A group of people walks up to our table to join us. They sit without saying anything. I’m the first to introduce myself to the group. First, I introduce myself to two students from New York. I find out that they are interning with companies who have films at the festival. We talk a little about some of the best places to hang out at night in Cannes. They reveal that there’s a popular club that’s well-known for having famous DJs during the festival.
I eventually introduced myself to the third member that joined our table. Turns out he attended UGA’s prestigious law school. He excitedly asks for a picture. I was a bit skeptical to hop in a random picture with an overzealous festival attendee who may or may not have been telling the truth. I eventually opted to get in the picture.
After talking with the UGA Alum for a bit, he reveals that he’d worked with Adam Sandler in the past. He was asked what his role was, and he scooted around the question.
“Oh, I worked on Big Daddy.” He responded.
“Oh, really what was your role?” One of the UGA students asked.
“I was on set. Adam mostly just stole my beer.” The man responded.
That conversation continued like that for a bit and at some point, I’d stopped listening. After talking with a few other people for a while, I discover that there is an American Pavilion party in about an hour and a few people are thinking about attending.
Should I stay or should I leave? [choose a way to end the night]
The Cannes Red Carpet Experience + Watching a Cannes Premiere
It’s intense. My feet are crying and I haven’t even reached the red carpet. I stand in line and wait patiently as security checks my bag. I see the bright lights up ahead and a plethora of unknowns rushing up the red carpet.
It’s now my turn to walk up the red carpet. A surge of excitement hits me as I see flashing lights coming from all directions. I don’t know whether to pose or make my way up to the theatre as fast as I can. I opt to head towards the stairs and enter the building. I stop to take a few quick selfies and then continue to walk. I am immediately prompted to continue toward the theatre. I head to the theatre and am immediately overwhelmed. I show my ticket and then get ushered towards the balcony seating.
It’s a small miracle that I didn’t trip going up the stairs! They’re very steep and spaced out, meaning that I had to take very large steps to make it up. I eventually settle on a row and shuffle past a few people who are already seated. I make small talk with the people who are sitting next to me. There’s a huge screen that displays the red carpet. The audience claps as the cast and director grace the screen. The claps continue as they walk into the theatre.
The cast and director are allowed to say a few words about the film. Each person who grabs the microphone is equally excited to see the completed film. I watch speechlessly. This continues as I watch the film, and every now and then I glance at the actors. It’s kind of a weird feeling watching an actor watch themselves on screen, but it’s a cool one. Although I totally could’ve waited until the next day to see this movie, I’m happy with my decision to beg for premiere tickets. I’m glad I had the opportunity to see the premiere, and even more thankful that someone gave me a ticket! Will I beg for tickets again? Maybe, but probably not.
After the main event is over I decide to head back with a few other UGA students. We debated whether taking an Uber or taxi was the best move. We opted to get a taxi.
We all talked a bit about random things that happened during the day, as well as what we thought about the premier. Once back at the residence I hurriedly blog about my day and prepare to do it all again the next day.
*This post was originally posted on my Cannes blog “Pommes et Bannanes a Cannes”
Partying at the AMPAV Tent
I’m instantly happy with my decision to stay for the party. There is glow-in-the-dark everything: grills, rings, bows, necklaces, etc. I spot the bubbly British journalist that I’d befriended during an early premiere on one of the other days. I walk up to his group and I’m warmly greeted with two kisses on the cheek and a “Hello darling.” I nearly locked lips with him, because I went the wrong way, but I played it off well.
He introduces me to a few of his friends and we talk for a while. I learned the most from his French friend. We talked about everything from his time in Paris, to him getting out of paying for train fines. We were joined by other UGA students, which only kept the conversation flowing organically. Every time another UGA student joined our group, my new British associate switched to his “American accent.”
In a southern twang that only he could pull off, he’d say, “You’re from Georg-ia too?” I loved it!
I eventually made my way to the dance floor. I took off my heels and put on my flip-flops and begin dancing with a group of UGA students.
Some of the other people that are worth mentioning from the AMPAV party:
- The balloon guy who kept handing me balloons to blow up.
- My dance partner in crime: An amazing French girl who admitted that she was there with her stepmom. She was a true trooper as she enthusiastically danced to everything, even when the DJ played crappy music. She only stopped briefly for a smoke break.
- The guy that was dubbed crazy eyes by my British friend. He wasn’t lying. Every time the guy held his lighter a little too close to his tongue or took a shot, his eyes did seem to bulge a little.
- The group of UGA students to who kept dancing even when the music sucked.
- Of course my British friend for twerking with me during “Work” by Rihanna. He rightfully put a light-up ring on it (my finger) after that dance!
After partying for a little, meeting an array of other interesting industry professionals, and getting my fill on free goodies, I decided to head back with a few other UGA students. We debated whether taking an Uber or taxi was the best move. We opted to get a taxi.
We all talked a bit about random things that happened during the day, as well as what we thought about the party. Once back at the residence I hurriedly blog about my day and prepare to do it all again the next day.
*This post was originally posted on my Cannes blog “Pommes et Bannanes a Cannes”
Take a Train back to Juan (aka Home away from Home)
While on the train I begin looking through one of the press kits that I snagged during the day. I show it to the other UGA student that has decided to ride back with me.
“Is that a restaurant menu?” asked a guy who we’d been introduced to earlier at the station.“No. It’s a press kit from the festival.” I respond.
We talk for a bit and go through our usual script of why we’re in France. After talking for a while, we learn a lot about the stereotypes that are probably prevalent abroad. In a matter of about ten minutes, we had become acquainted with a guy from the UK. This guy was a PR executive turned French Army man. He joined some kind of French army because of a dare he’d lost. His word vomit made the train ride go by a little faster.
“I’m sorry but I didn’t think there were black people in Georgia.” He said naively.
“There are definitely black people in Georgia.” I responded.“You’re from Georgia so do you own a gun?” He asked next.
Questions like that kept coming our way. We nicely corrected him every time he said something out of the box. Perhaps the funniest thing had to be his obsession with Texas. Before going to Texas he thought everyone drove big trucks, was mean, and had big guns. Promptly after visiting Texas he’d fallen in love with it, and vowed to move to Texas after finishing his army term.
Some of the amusing lessons that he’d learned in America included:
- Trench coats are laughable. Especially in Boston and New York during the winter.
- Never light a cigarette for a woman, especially not in L.A., because all women are independent and can light their own cigarettes.
Once back in Juan, we started talking about the conversation that we just had on the train. We couldn’t believe the amount of naïve people that we had talked to over about a week. I guess we were a bit loud because two girls excitedly stopped us.
“Are you guys American!” She asked excitedly.“
Yeah.” I responded.
We went through our normal routine of why we were in town and where we were from. We learned that the girl and her from were both from America. Although the girl was from America, she had been living in France for six years. Her friend had been studying abroad and would be spending most of her summer in Juan. As we were exchanging contact information, we were approached by a young suspicious-looking guy. He said something quickly in French. Our new friend responded.
“You guys don’t want drugs right?” our new acquaintance asked.
“No,” the other UGA student and I responded in unison.
The guy walks away, unashamed. We continued exchanging contact information and planned to meet later that night.
We end up going to a small bar and spending a bit of time there. We ordered a few drinks and got to know each other a little better. We later headed to a club that was just down the street. From the outside, it looked like a quiet restaurant. The things that gave it away were the line that seemed to form out of nowhere, and the bouncer at the door. There was also a guy dressed in a headdress, who seemed to be having too much fun dancing with fire.
Once inside, there was a pay window, similar to the ones that adorn skating rinks in America. No one was willing to pay the 15 Euro fee, so we begin to turn around. Another bouncer nodded his head towards the first bouncer and then the window attendant, and then promptly let us proceed without paying.
The club was indescribable. There were lots of lights, smoke, and a lively group on the dance floor. There were tables in the center of the floor, specifically designed for those who wanted to stand on tables to dance. There was a semi-creepy guy on the main stage dancing. He was in his own world, and the crowd seemed to love him.
We danced to the shockingly American-heavy DJ set, we danced on a few tables, and we jumped around uncontrollably. A French guy even pretended to throw money at us while we danced. It was a fun night. We ended up leaving around 2:30 AM, and the party was still going strong. We all headed our separate ways.
Once back at the residence, I hurriedly blog about my day and prepare to do it all again the next day.
*This post was originally posted on my Cannes blog “Pommes et Bannanes a Cannes”