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Journalism of Courage
Cannes: On some nights, deep into the wee hours, the myth and reality of the Cannes Film Festival party scene merge into one surreal dreamscape. Or one nightmare, if you think Cannes is supposed to just be about great films, thoughtful directors and dedicated actors.
Thursday night was one of those nights. There was a party at the former Palm Beach Casino at the Pointe de la Croisette, home of some wicked bashes at past festivals. I have no idea what the theme or reason for the fete was. And there were no clues inside. But the 8220;hosts8221; were to be supermodel-diva Naomi Campbell, who always celebrates her birthday at the festival, and her mentor-friend Nelson Mandela, merely one of the world8217;s inspirational leaders. That8217;s where myth takes over: You think you might catch a glimpse of this unlikely pairing of celebrities, along with their famous friends. Then reality hits. They are in a separate room with another entrance and different invitations required.
That8217;s the party scene at Cannes. That8217;s what consumed actor-rocker Michael Pitt until 5 am. the morning before his interviews for Gus van Sant8217;s Last Days. At 11 am, when he stumbled in to face the media, Pitt looked like he was on his last legs, grungy, bleary-eyed and wearing a faded white
T-shirt riddled with rips and holes and stained with dirt. Glamour, you might say, is a matter of opinion.
Excerpted from a report in 8216;The Winnipeg Sun8217;, May 21
