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There’s a strict caste system for film critics covering the Cannes film festival. A handful of critics who have been coming here,year on year,for several years,have the coveted white badge. Which allows them to get in anywhere they like,without queuing. Then there is the pink badge with the yellow dot,which is also quite useful,because it sets you apart from those on the complete bottom rung. Which is me,with my plain pink badge. The ushers take one look at it,and send me off to either the very front of the auditorium,or to the balcony,nothing in between.
This,in Cannes?
The real thing
But I cannot linger because I have to be right back in a long queue for the next film. And that turns out to be the real thing. Romanian auteur Cristian Mungius Beyond The Hills is the kind of film one comes to festivals for: a deeply personal,deeply immersive experience,which leaves you sated. It tells the story of two girls,who have clearly shared a physical relationship,and who are now on opposite sides of a huge divide. Voichita seems to have gone over to the Church,and given herself up to service. Alina arrives,and her coming to the monastery,ruled by a priest and a senior nun,throws everything into turmoil. The directors style is deceptively simple,and he says that the most complex things by keeping it simple. Im ushered right to the front row,from where I cant read the subtitles. I use desi wiles to get to the back,and find myself a better seat: so much for the pink card!
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