Wednesday 6 July 2011
Life In A Day Premiere - Producer Interview
We talk to one of the producers of documentary film Life In A Day at the film's red carpet premiere in London. The unique film is comprised from over 4,500 hrs worth of fottage submitted through YouTube by people around the world.
Life In A Day Premiere- Editor Interview
We talk to Joe Walker the editor of documentary film Life In A Day at the film's red carpet premiere in London. The unique film is comprised from over 4,500 hrs worth of fottage submitted through YouTube by people around the world. Joe talks about the difficult process of editing that down into the final 2 hour film.
The Fighter DVD Launch - Boxer Interviews
We talk to some real life British boxing stars at the UK DVD Launch of The Fighter the Oscar winning boxing film starring Mark Walhberg, Amy Adams and Christian Bale. We talk to Billy Schwer, Collin McMillan and Clinton McKenzie. Videos below.
5 Days Of War - Director Renny Harlin Interview
We talk to director Renny Harlin (Die Hard 2) at the UK premeire of 5 Days Of War. The film tells the controversial story of the short but brutal conflict between Georgia and Russia. The director tells us what inspired him to tell this story, talks about working with his cast and how making this film affected him personally. The film stars Andy Garcia, Val Kilmer, Dean Cain and Rupert Friend.
5 Days Of War - Johnathon Schaech Interview
We talk to star Johnathon Schaech at the UK red carpet premiere of 5 Days Of War. The film tells the controversial story of the short but brutal conflict between Georgia and Russia.
Johnathon plays a Georgian soldier and tells us what inspired him to be a part of the film. He also talks about working with his co-stars and how making this film affected him personally.
The film also stars Andy Garcia, Val Kilmer, Dean Cain and Rupert Friend.
Dean Cain Interview - 5 Days Of War
We talk to star Dean Cain at the UK red carpet premiere of 5 Days Of War. The film tells the controversial story of the short but brutal conflict between Georgia and Russia. Dean tells us what inspired him to be a part of the film, talks about working with his co-stars and how making this film affected him personally. The film also stars Andy Garcia, Val Kilmer and Rupert Friend.
5 Days Of War - Andy Garcia Interview
We talk to star Anday Garcia at the UK red carpet premiere of 5 Days Of War. The film tells the controversial story of the short but brutal conflict between Georgia and Russia. Andy tells us what inspired him to be a part of the film and how making this film affected him personally. The film also stars Dean Cain, Rochard Coyle, Val Kilmer and Rupert Friend.
Tuesday 5 July 2011
Julia Stiles Dexter Interview
Dexter star Julia Stiles talks about season five and her role as Lumen Pearce in the hit Showtime series. Her character meets vigilante serial killer Dexter under traumatic circumstances and forms a unique but dangerous bond with him.
Julia talks about what attracted her to Lumen and how she got to grips with such a complicated and damaged character. She talks about the shows reputation for pushing boundaries and the controversy surrounding the shows subect matter.
Julia tells us who her favourite Dexter character is and what Michael C.Hall is really like in real life. She also talks about the possibility of Lumen returning either in season 6 or beyond.
Larry Crowne World Premiere - Tom Hanks Interview
We talk to Hollywood Legend Tom Hanks (Forrest Gump, Philadelphia, Cast Away) on the red carpet at the world premiere of Larry Crowne in London. Tom talks about wiriting directing and starring in the film about a middle-aged man who find himself grabbing hold of a second chance at life when corporate downsizing forces him to go back to college.
Francesca Hull Interview - Made In Chelsea
We talk to Made In Chelsea reality TV star Francesca Hull on the red carpet at the World Premeire of Larry Crowne in London. Francesca is an aspiring celebrity journalist and talks about how she got involved in the popular reality series and just how real the show actually is. She reacts to the criticism and popularity of the series which follows the private lives of the Chelsea elite.
Gabriella Ellis Interview - Made In Chelsea
Made In Chelsea reality TV star Gabriella Ellis talk to us at the world premiere of Larry crowne in London on the red carpet. Gabriella is an aspiring musician and talks about how she got involved in the popular reality series and just how real the show actually is. She reacts to the criticism and popularity of the series which follows the private lives of the Chelsea elite. She also talks about the increasing trend of people with music dreams seeing reality tv shows as the main avenue for commercial music success.
Harry Derbridge Interview TOWIE
We talk to The Only Way Is Essex Star Harry Derbridge on the red carpet at the Larry Crowne World Premiere in London. Harry talks abotu the success fo the popular reality tv show following the lives of the essex elite. he talks about changes for the second season and give shis reaction to the criticisms of the show.
David Hasselhoff Interview - BGT & Cheryl Cole
TV Legend David Hasselhoff talks about Britain's Got Talent and the controversial US X-Factor sacking fo Cheryl Cole on the red carpet at the World Premiere of Larry Crowne in London
Sophie Ellis-Bextor Interview
We talk to beautiful pop music star Sophie Ellis-Bextor on the red carpet at the World Premeire of Larry Crowne where she performed a selection of her greatest hits and new material for a huge crowd of film fans. Sophie talks about her forthcoming tours, as well as giving details of her new single and album.
Bend It Like Beckham Musical News - Gurinder Chadha Interview
We talk to Bend It Like Beckham Director Gurinder Chadha on the red carpet at the UK premiere of Kung Fu Panda 2. She tells us about her exciting upcoming movie projects and confirms the Bend It Like Beckham musical is on it’s way as well.
Rachel Stevens Interview
We talk to beautiful music star Rachel Stevens on the red carpet at the UK premiere of Kung Fu Panda 2. The film stars Dustin Hoffman, Angelina Jolie and Jack Black. Rachel talks about her plans for the future and the possibility of a return to pop music.
Kung Fu Panda 2 UK Premiere
We talk to star Jack Black on the red carpet at the UK premeire of Kung Fu Panda 2. We also talk to the films producer and director. The latest 3D animated adventure from Dreamworks also stars Angelina Jolie and Dustin Hoffman and is out in cinemas nationwide June 10th.
Human Planet Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Will Edwards, Doug Allan and Matt Norman backstage at the BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011, shortly after winning the award for best factual photography for the Human Planet Arctic episode. The crew tell us what the biggest challenges were filming in sub-zero arctic temperatures.
Any Human Heart Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to the makers of Any human Heart shortly after it's win for best drama at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards.
Downton Abbey Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Downton Abbey director Brian Percival backstage at the BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011 shortly after his win for best director in fiction for the hit period drama.
Worried About The Boy Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Annie Symons at the BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011 where she won best costume design for her work on Boy George biopic Worried About The Boy. Annie tells us how managed to recapture the unique look and styles of the Culture Club era. The show featured a selection or vintage pieces and newly made garments based on classic designs.
Paterson Joseph Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Peep Show star and dramatic actor Paterson Joseph backstage at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards. Paterson talks about the cult status of his Peep Show character Alan Johnson and tells us what it's really like to work with funnymen Mitchell and Webb. He also talks about style and his plans to flex his more dramatic acting muscles.
This Is England 86 Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Catherine Scobie backstage at the BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011, shortly after winning the award for best Make Up & Hair Design for four part tv drama This Is England 86. She gives us insight into how she created the unique look and feel of the characters and the challanges of updating the look of the cast from the original film. She also talks about the upcoming special.
Springwatch Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to the makers of Springwatch backstage at the BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011, where the long running wildlife show won the Special Award, presented by Chris Packham. The makers talk about their own favourite wildlife encounters and the importance of the show in drawing attention to the wealth of natural wonders in our own back gardens.
Olivia Coleman Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Peep Show star Olivia Coleman backstage at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards, where she presented an award. Olivia talks about her upcoming movie starring alongside Hollywood superstar Meryl Streep in a biopic about Margaret Thatcher. She also confirm that although Peep Show will be taking a well deserved break the show is not gone for good and will return for a new series sometime in the future.
Mongrels Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Mongrels writer Jon Brown backstage at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards where he won the award for Break-Through Talent. He talks about the cult puppet show that tackles issues like drugs, the age of consent and celebrity through a group an edgy urban animals.
Jon talks about the inspiration behind fan favourite characters like mild mannered Nelson the Fox and his psychotic brother Vince. He also gives us a little bit of news about what to expect in the second series.
Misfits Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Tom Bowyer at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011, shortly after winning his award for Best Production Design for Misfits. Tom talks about how the unique look and feel of the show is created and about changes for the hotly anticipated series 3.
Tom talks in particular about the unexpected departure of star Rob Sheehan ahead of the third series, but promise that fans won't be disappointed by the replacement for his character Nathan.
Vicky McClure Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
This Is Englad 86 star Vicky McClure talks to us backstage at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards. Vicky was presenting an award and would later go on to pick up the award for best actress at this year's Television BAFTAS. Vicky talks about the show and the forthcoming special.
Tamsin Greig Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
We talk to Tamsin Greig backstage at this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011. Tamsin talks about hit show Friday Night Dinner and comfirms that there will be a second series in addition to the second of Episodes, where she stars alongside Stephen Mangan and Matt Leblanc.
Stephen Mangan Interview - BAFTA TV Craft Awards 2011
Stephen Mangan the host of this year's BAFTA TV Craft Awards talks to us backstage after the show. He talks about the importance of the awards in rewarding talent offscreen and encouraging the stars of tomorrow. He also talks about upcoming projects and confirms there will be a second series of Episodes. Stephen stars alongside Tamsin Greig and Matt Leblanc as a married pair of British screenwriters who try to adapt their hit series for American TV with disasterous but hilarious consequences.
Katie Piper Interview - BAFTA Awards 2011
As the vitcim of a brutal acid attack, the inspirational story of Katie Piper touched the lives of many people affected by disability and disfigurement. The BAFTA award winning documentary Kate: My Beautiful Face helped Katie to spread her positive message of hope and survival.
We caught up with Katie backstage after presenting an award at this year's BAFTA TV Craft awards. Katie talks about her follow up series Katie My Beautiful friends. She talked about what it's all meant to her and her ongoing charity work.
Game Of Thrones - Alfie Allen Interview
We talk to Alfie Allen on the red carpet at the UK premiere of new action comedy Attack The Block. Alfie talks about his upcoming role in Game Of Thrones the sensational new tv show which has already gathered a huge following.
Alfie talks about being a fan of the franchise and why he thinks people have responded so well to it. He also reveals that while he may not be getting to pick up a big sword any time soon he will be wielding a very deadly bow and arrow.
Attack The Block UK Premiere
We talk to the young cast and stars of Attack The Block, the new action comedy film from Joe Cornish (The Adam & Joe Show). The film tells the story of a gang of inner city teens who find themselves doing battle with an evil alien invasion of their south London council estate.
Our interviews include John Boyega (Moses), Luke Treadaway (Brevis), Jodie Whittaker (Sam), Nick Frost (Ron), Simon Howard (Biggz), Alex Esmail (Pest) and Director Joe Cornish himself.
Thursday 26 May 2011
Cannes Diary Day: 4
I don't know what it’s called when you go back and forth between running and fast walking? But that's exactly what I'm doing. I've overslept and it's already 8am. It's early in the real world but here it’s perilously late. The hardcore fans and most enthusiastic photographers are already beginning to descend upon the Palais. They're all whispering the same name. You can almost hear it on the sea breeze. It's Johnny... Johnny Depp.
Last night's American party escapades left me immune to my alarm. My partner in crime was up at 5am but thought I looked tired, so didn't wake me. She should have known better. I'm supposed to look exhausted. Weariness is a badge of honour here. If you’re actually sleeping more than the medically required minimum then something is dreadfully wrong with you. This is Cannes.
With rapid motion and some luck I make it just in time to secure some prime real estate at the very front of the photo call. Panic over I settle in for the four hour wait. I'm sandwiched between some Italian photographers and an elderly French woman who looks like a confused grandmother. Naturally they don't speak English. We communicate through increasingly elaborate hand gestures and facial expressions. Time passes slowly. But it's worth it.
It's a long time to wait just to see someone, but this isn't just anyone. This is one of the most universally adored and effortlessly charismatic actors of our time. Chameleon like performances and a consistently captivating face have placed Johnny Depp at the absolute pinnacle of movie superstardom. Men, women, children, perhaps even some of the more intelligent animals love him. His increasingly eclectic and acclaimed career is enviable, admirable and above all enjoyable.
No other actor could dream of being nominated for a best actor Oscar for playing a drunken Keith Richards impersonating Pirate. Such is the phenomenal success of Captain Jack Sparrow, an unlikely alter ego entirely of Depp's own creation, that he returns to Cannes this year to carry the franchise into its 4th summer blockbuster. With Captain Jack firmly and unashamedly centre stage this time it promises to wipe away the memory of a disappointing third outing. Pirates of The Caribbean: At World's End... the film that felt like it never did.
My own reasons for devotion extend far beyond the role that made Johnny Disney's darling. I will forever adore him for bottling lighting as Hunter S. Thompson's maniacal anti-hero Raoul Duke in 'Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas'. Rarely in human history has an intoxicated man in an awful Hawaiian shirt proved quite so arresting and oddly insightful. It's hard to deny genius that is so ugly and unlikely. Of course, his countless beautiful turns as Tim Burton's meek mannered Goth plaything have also helped cement my passion.
Right now, the excitement is starting to build as the Captain's arrival draws near. Nervous fangirls and photographers clamber up walls and perch over the top of metal fences. All desperate for the best possible glimpse when the crucial moment comes. Behind me, rows of envious camera crews hastily mount ladders in an urgent competition for height and the right angle. Three perilous feet above my head, anxious TV Camera's and telescopic photographer lenses jostle awkwardly for position. The mid-morning sun continues to rise, slowly baking the journalists and their heavy black technology.
The appointed time for the photo call comes and goes. Nervous whispers start. Has the waiting crowd grown too big, too obviously desperate. Has our timid hero slunk through some underground entrance or a secluded backdoor. Painful minutes eek by for nearly an hour. Has all that anticipation fizzled out in the furnace strength heat? Was it just too good to be true. The masses wait and sweat with impatience. Poised, for disappointment.
It begins with a solitary high pitched scream. Was it a hysterical teenager or a hardened media pro? It's impossible to say. Who screamed is a mystery, but why they did is obvious. He's here.
There is no car. No tinted windows. No police escort. The biggest film star on the planet, is walking. He is strolling down the sun-cracked concrete road, smiling beneath a beige trilby hat. Accompanied only by a surly grey haired bodyguard.
The startled crowd springs to life, brandishing camera's and outstretched hands. His entire route is instantly flanked by frantic hordes, reaching down, straining to touch him. He sees them through his purple tinted glasses and reaches back up to them with a playful grin. Taking each trembling hand in turn he gives them all a soft squeeze. Like happy ice cream the young fans melt with delight.
Near the Palais steps a few more ambitious devotees hold out pens, begging for autographs. But as the magnanimous movie star tries to take one, his own bodyguard slaps his hand away, giving him a firm shove towards the stairs for good measure. It's a bizarre sight to see a global superstar scolded like a naughty child who knows he's not allowed to play yet. Without choice he strides up the stairs, leaving the fans with a forlorn fluttering wave.
At the peak of the stairs, he stands perfectly still for a single moment. The photographers snap and flash. The crowd still screams. A loose dark scarf and some beaded necklaces hang round his neck.
He's wearing a striped shirt beneath an immaculate white waistcoat with a polka dot handkerchief nestled in its pocket. Unnecessary suspender straps droop from his khaki trousers. A well crafted goatee can't hide the flawless symmetry of his face. A little thicker than in its youth, but no less pleasing.
And then he's gone. Swept along with the rest of the cast. A sun kissed Penelope Cruz and a smart suited Geoffrey Rush. They head towards the press conference followed by a mad scramble of journalists. I fight my own way inside and adopt a carefully calculated position next to a TV monitor close to the lobby door. With the certain knowledge that they will have to pass me on their escape route to the service elevator. I bide my time and listen.
After half an hour the press conference ends with a rush of applause and my own adrenalin. Forget the well chosen words and well placed questions. This is the momentous moment. The meeting.
Johnny Depp walks towards me unhurried by his own entourage, who now have no excuse for haste. Someone hands him a pen. He stops. Charming his way along a small crowd towards me. I hold out some photographs and he obliges with a couple of meaningful squiggles and a good natured smile. I thank him and say something complimentary. He looks at me for a second with a benign expression and then walks away in the direction of a bigger throng of fans. It's such a brief flash of personal contact, but at least I'm left holding the frameworthy evidence of the encounter in my hands.
Flushed with success and the sweltering heat I head to the American Pavilion to celebrate with my now customary Panini and chilled fruit water. A proud mother and her son join me at my table. They're from Texas and the boy has a short film in the festival. I'm stunned to learn that the 'boy' really is only in high school. He looks older than me in a rugged all-American way. I feel a slight twinge of envy for his pubescent filmmaking accomplishments. They seem more jealous that I've just seen Johnny Depp. Desire is a strange beast.
After lunch, as the afternoon drags on, I settle into the shaded conference room. In walks a real life hero, ironically accompanied by TV's Hercules (Kevin Sorbo) in a purple paisley shirt. She has a mane of bottle blonde hair and a shiny sun soaked complexion splashed with freckles. Our hero has a perfect pearl smile and an imposingly athletic frame. She is pretty but instantly memorable for another reason. Her name is Bethany Hamilton.
When she was 13 years old, surfer Bethany was the victim of a horrific shark attack. Against all odds, she survived, but lost her left arm. Remarkably undeterred she returned to the water within a month. Less than a year later she was a surfing champion. She turned pro a few years later and never looked back. Her autobiographical bestselling book 'Soul Surfer' has now spawned an inspirational movie and this appearance at Cannes.
It's humbling. To be in the presence of something that goes so far beyond the film industry. Something greater. It throws today's hysteria and my brief pang of self doubt into sharp unflattering contrast. We call lots of things 'inspiring'. A good piece of music. A well written story. But to be in the presence of a life lived with humour, grace and joy; truly merits that distinction. It fills us with regret that we're not better, but the hope that we can be.
When I ask her who she's inspired by, she talks to me about other extraordinary people she's encountered. Unique people who overcame adversity, cruel fate and disability. I feel, guilty. Guilty for the soft luxuries of my own existence and the trivial concerns that pre-occupy me. It won't last, but it's a rare thing, genuine perspective. How remarkably unlikely to have found that here, of all places, in Cannes.
The rest of the day passes in insignificance. A tropical thunder shower traps everyone in ill equipped summer clothes under the flimsy pavilion canapé. I feel sorry for all the people drowned in black tie on their way to the Pirates premiere. I talk to the usual array of producers and writers. I listen to good, bad and awful ideas for films. When the flood finally finishes, I head back to the apartment, with a bag full of groceries and a head full of renewed ambitions.
Russ Nelson 14th May 2011
Quote Of The Day:
"I think the thing to do is enjoy the ride while you're on it."
- Johnny Depp on Life.
Last night's American party escapades left me immune to my alarm. My partner in crime was up at 5am but thought I looked tired, so didn't wake me. She should have known better. I'm supposed to look exhausted. Weariness is a badge of honour here. If you’re actually sleeping more than the medically required minimum then something is dreadfully wrong with you. This is Cannes.
With rapid motion and some luck I make it just in time to secure some prime real estate at the very front of the photo call. Panic over I settle in for the four hour wait. I'm sandwiched between some Italian photographers and an elderly French woman who looks like a confused grandmother. Naturally they don't speak English. We communicate through increasingly elaborate hand gestures and facial expressions. Time passes slowly. But it's worth it.
It's a long time to wait just to see someone, but this isn't just anyone. This is one of the most universally adored and effortlessly charismatic actors of our time. Chameleon like performances and a consistently captivating face have placed Johnny Depp at the absolute pinnacle of movie superstardom. Men, women, children, perhaps even some of the more intelligent animals love him. His increasingly eclectic and acclaimed career is enviable, admirable and above all enjoyable.
No other actor could dream of being nominated for a best actor Oscar for playing a drunken Keith Richards impersonating Pirate. Such is the phenomenal success of Captain Jack Sparrow, an unlikely alter ego entirely of Depp's own creation, that he returns to Cannes this year to carry the franchise into its 4th summer blockbuster. With Captain Jack firmly and unashamedly centre stage this time it promises to wipe away the memory of a disappointing third outing. Pirates of The Caribbean: At World's End... the film that felt like it never did.
My own reasons for devotion extend far beyond the role that made Johnny Disney's darling. I will forever adore him for bottling lighting as Hunter S. Thompson's maniacal anti-hero Raoul Duke in 'Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas'. Rarely in human history has an intoxicated man in an awful Hawaiian shirt proved quite so arresting and oddly insightful. It's hard to deny genius that is so ugly and unlikely. Of course, his countless beautiful turns as Tim Burton's meek mannered Goth plaything have also helped cement my passion.
Right now, the excitement is starting to build as the Captain's arrival draws near. Nervous fangirls and photographers clamber up walls and perch over the top of metal fences. All desperate for the best possible glimpse when the crucial moment comes. Behind me, rows of envious camera crews hastily mount ladders in an urgent competition for height and the right angle. Three perilous feet above my head, anxious TV Camera's and telescopic photographer lenses jostle awkwardly for position. The mid-morning sun continues to rise, slowly baking the journalists and their heavy black technology.
The appointed time for the photo call comes and goes. Nervous whispers start. Has the waiting crowd grown too big, too obviously desperate. Has our timid hero slunk through some underground entrance or a secluded backdoor. Painful minutes eek by for nearly an hour. Has all that anticipation fizzled out in the furnace strength heat? Was it just too good to be true. The masses wait and sweat with impatience. Poised, for disappointment.
It begins with a solitary high pitched scream. Was it a hysterical teenager or a hardened media pro? It's impossible to say. Who screamed is a mystery, but why they did is obvious. He's here.
There is no car. No tinted windows. No police escort. The biggest film star on the planet, is walking. He is strolling down the sun-cracked concrete road, smiling beneath a beige trilby hat. Accompanied only by a surly grey haired bodyguard.
The startled crowd springs to life, brandishing camera's and outstretched hands. His entire route is instantly flanked by frantic hordes, reaching down, straining to touch him. He sees them through his purple tinted glasses and reaches back up to them with a playful grin. Taking each trembling hand in turn he gives them all a soft squeeze. Like happy ice cream the young fans melt with delight.
Near the Palais steps a few more ambitious devotees hold out pens, begging for autographs. But as the magnanimous movie star tries to take one, his own bodyguard slaps his hand away, giving him a firm shove towards the stairs for good measure. It's a bizarre sight to see a global superstar scolded like a naughty child who knows he's not allowed to play yet. Without choice he strides up the stairs, leaving the fans with a forlorn fluttering wave.
At the peak of the stairs, he stands perfectly still for a single moment. The photographers snap and flash. The crowd still screams. A loose dark scarf and some beaded necklaces hang round his neck.
He's wearing a striped shirt beneath an immaculate white waistcoat with a polka dot handkerchief nestled in its pocket. Unnecessary suspender straps droop from his khaki trousers. A well crafted goatee can't hide the flawless symmetry of his face. A little thicker than in its youth, but no less pleasing.
And then he's gone. Swept along with the rest of the cast. A sun kissed Penelope Cruz and a smart suited Geoffrey Rush. They head towards the press conference followed by a mad scramble of journalists. I fight my own way inside and adopt a carefully calculated position next to a TV monitor close to the lobby door. With the certain knowledge that they will have to pass me on their escape route to the service elevator. I bide my time and listen.
After half an hour the press conference ends with a rush of applause and my own adrenalin. Forget the well chosen words and well placed questions. This is the momentous moment. The meeting.
Johnny Depp walks towards me unhurried by his own entourage, who now have no excuse for haste. Someone hands him a pen. He stops. Charming his way along a small crowd towards me. I hold out some photographs and he obliges with a couple of meaningful squiggles and a good natured smile. I thank him and say something complimentary. He looks at me for a second with a benign expression and then walks away in the direction of a bigger throng of fans. It's such a brief flash of personal contact, but at least I'm left holding the frameworthy evidence of the encounter in my hands.
Flushed with success and the sweltering heat I head to the American Pavilion to celebrate with my now customary Panini and chilled fruit water. A proud mother and her son join me at my table. They're from Texas and the boy has a short film in the festival. I'm stunned to learn that the 'boy' really is only in high school. He looks older than me in a rugged all-American way. I feel a slight twinge of envy for his pubescent filmmaking accomplishments. They seem more jealous that I've just seen Johnny Depp. Desire is a strange beast.
After lunch, as the afternoon drags on, I settle into the shaded conference room. In walks a real life hero, ironically accompanied by TV's Hercules (Kevin Sorbo) in a purple paisley shirt. She has a mane of bottle blonde hair and a shiny sun soaked complexion splashed with freckles. Our hero has a perfect pearl smile and an imposingly athletic frame. She is pretty but instantly memorable for another reason. Her name is Bethany Hamilton.
When she was 13 years old, surfer Bethany was the victim of a horrific shark attack. Against all odds, she survived, but lost her left arm. Remarkably undeterred she returned to the water within a month. Less than a year later she was a surfing champion. She turned pro a few years later and never looked back. Her autobiographical bestselling book 'Soul Surfer' has now spawned an inspirational movie and this appearance at Cannes.
It's humbling. To be in the presence of something that goes so far beyond the film industry. Something greater. It throws today's hysteria and my brief pang of self doubt into sharp unflattering contrast. We call lots of things 'inspiring'. A good piece of music. A well written story. But to be in the presence of a life lived with humour, grace and joy; truly merits that distinction. It fills us with regret that we're not better, but the hope that we can be.
When I ask her who she's inspired by, she talks to me about other extraordinary people she's encountered. Unique people who overcame adversity, cruel fate and disability. I feel, guilty. Guilty for the soft luxuries of my own existence and the trivial concerns that pre-occupy me. It won't last, but it's a rare thing, genuine perspective. How remarkably unlikely to have found that here, of all places, in Cannes.
The rest of the day passes in insignificance. A tropical thunder shower traps everyone in ill equipped summer clothes under the flimsy pavilion canapé. I feel sorry for all the people drowned in black tie on their way to the Pirates premiere. I talk to the usual array of producers and writers. I listen to good, bad and awful ideas for films. When the flood finally finishes, I head back to the apartment, with a bag full of groceries and a head full of renewed ambitions.
Russ Nelson 14th May 2011
Quote Of The Day:
"I think the thing to do is enjoy the ride while you're on it."
- Johnny Depp on Life.
Wednesday 25 May 2011
Cannes Diary Day: 3
My first morning mouthful of chocolate tastes magnificent. It has taken four days for me to be seduced by a butter baked breakfast treat. The first day of painful fatigue and grey weather requires comfort eating. Also in my defence the American pavilion won’t make me a Panini at least until the sun is properly up. I can’t blame them; it’s too early to function properly.
I lack the motivation to drag myself into a screening room so I slouch back in my seat with half a croissant in my mouth. Besides me the film students are being given a lecture from someone who works in the high end hospitality industry. He has drooping hair and a voice that sounds like a long sigh. He tells them how special ‘special days’ are and the importance of hotel loyalty. I briefly consider working in the perk filled luxury lifestyle business. But it feels too much like being the audience for someone else’s spectacular life.
I kill time, eat more pastries and tell anyone who asks just how good a time I’ve been having. Eventually there’s no one left to talk to and nothing left to eat so I go looking for something else to do. In front of the Palais a funny thing happens. I spot someone walking toward me who looks exactly like an old friend from America. The resemblance is uncanny. I wonder, have I found her evil French twin? Such a discovery would put a whole different slant on this trip. I’m naturally cautious. But there’s no need to panic, it actually is her.
My mind does boggle a little with the sheer coincidence. I immediately decide to give up on the next batch of screenings and we catch up on life through a few drinks and a well made chicken lasagne lunch. A pair of busking musicians soundtrack our reunion with quintessentially French songs. Jaunty tunes with plenty of flair on the accordion. It's one of those rare moments when life lives up to the expectations movies have inflicted on me.
We're briefly befriended by an elderly Irish couple. They're on holiday for the rest of their lives, but it’s time to for me to get back to business. So I make our friendly excuses and we leave. Heading back towards the Palais we bump into Diane Kruger and Joshua Jackson. As a couple they seem oddly juxtaposed; a 90 American teen heartthrob and a seriously dramatic European actress. But watching them stroll hand in hand the love is enviably real.
I leave my friend outside a party for a local TV channel and I return to my second home at the American pavilion. Famke Janssen is giving a talk about becoming a director. She has the improbably slender frame of a former model and a pretty face with hard edges. Her hair is jet black and her fingernails match. She says it's for her next film. She's playing an evil witch, but without scary facial prosthetics it just looks a little emo. She's serious, passionate and older than I thought.
I debate about leaving before the next talk on independent film distribution. But in the end it's too much work to leave and the panel have already arrived. Mild mannered debates start about video on demand and online marketing strategies. The fresh faced Facebook rep keeps referring to popular new Facebook apps that nobody in the audience knew existed. I start to wonder if he's just making them up as he goes along to see what people like the sound of most. Eventually there's nothing left to talk about, but I pass around a wallet's worth of business cards before I go.
It's finally time to watch another film and I assess my options. I could play it safe, but I'm unable to resist the allure of something exotic. 3D Sex and Zen is infamous for breaking Avatar's box office record in China and for being the world's first adventure in 3D erotica. Intellectual and animal curiosity gets the better of me so I join the growing queue.
A frazzled looking older woman next to me introduces herself as a famous French actress. She tells me she's won awards but I've never heard of them or her. I reassure myself that she has a festival pass and speaks basic English so she can't be too deranged. I take my seat near the front, accompanied by my award winning French stalker.
The cast and director stand up and introduce the film then sit down next to us. The film is exactly two hours long which seems excessive. It starts and the first hour is pretty much what I expected bawdy slapstick style comedy. There a strange 70s throwback vibe with all the classic Porno clichés tweaked for historical period china. Replace a cable repair man with the servant who pushes the old fashioned coal cart and you get the idea.
It's intentionally funny and mostly entertaining. The sex scenes quickly get monotonous and it's palpably awkward to watch them with the cast and 300 mainstream industry professionals sweating alongside you.
It's all going okay until the start of the second hour. Without warning the film flips a switch from silly to psychotic. With absolutely no excuse the film starts a repugnant descent into extreme graphic violence and torture porn. I can't even write of the exact horrors I have to endure because merely uttering them to you may damage you irrevocably.
Other people start to leave but I'm trapped alongside the people responsible for this nightmare. If this is what they watch for entertainment god knows what they'll do to me if I walk out on it. I fight my powerful professional instincts to run away and vomit. Although under normal circumstances that would have been the only sensible response. I start to regret that I have eyes and ears that work.
The film finally ends and I politely decline an invite to a launch party with the cast and crew. I'm careful not to make any sudden moves as I escape. I abandon my French stalker while she's busy distracting them with conversation. This could be a noble act of self sacrifice but I suspect she's just angling for a part in the sequel. She’s never seen again and the imaginary film industry morns a tragic loss.
Traumatised and nauseous I meet up with my re-discovered American friend for dinner. We search for a place to eat for over half an hour, mostly because I need fresh air and counselling to revive my appetite. I settle in the end for the healing power of pasta and conversation. I survive but just barely.
After I’m sufficiently recovered we walk back to the Palais. On the way we pass by a well known Danish actor. I decide it's best not to say hello because he's fall down drunk. It's probably not fair to burden someone who can barely stand with the added pressure of small talk. He narrowly avoids sidewalks and expensive shop windows with the help of some friends. I just hope he was celebrating good news.
Invigorated by a change of clothes and the excitement of my first official Cannes Party I return encore une fois to the American pavilion. Director John Cameron Mitchell (rabbit hole, hedwig, shortbus) is on DJ duty and it's a masterful display. He's clearly crafted a perfect mix tape of loveable old classics and obscure pop punk. Even the queue for drinks tokens is having a discrete boogie.
It's tricky to fly solo for too long and I start chatting with a friendly Serbian sales agent. We instantly adopt each other as de facto wingmen. He bemoans the fact that the UK can't handle Serbian cinema and that his last film about a gang who make snuff porn movies probably won't get a UK theatrical release. I can only agree. I meet some Australian producers, a Flemish actor and the usual array of friendly film students and Americans.
A hideously drunk Ukrainian woman, clutching a half devoured vodka bottle in her claw, tells me I need to be "more human". I think it’s safe to say that sanity may have been lost in Smirnoff soaked translation. But the night perks up again when I meet someone who has a custom made iPod nano on his wrist disguised as a watch. I'm jealous and it makes me want to live in the future.
John C. Reilly and some of the cast of "We Need To Talk About Kevin" show up. There are also a couple of guys dressed as astronauts in space suites and a few transvestites with Halloween face paint on. It's not entirely clear if they're all part of the official entertainment or not. Either way it's past 2am and the party is officially 'over'. I'm done.
The walk back to the flat feels longer than ever before and I have to get up early to hopefully meet Johnny Depp. I pass out in my clothes, dreaming of pirates.
Russ Nelson 13th May 2011
Quote of The Day:
“My reaction to porn films is as follows: After the first ten minutes, I want to go home and screw. After the first 20 minutes, I never want to screw again as long as I live.”
Erica Jong, Playboy Magazine, September 1975
I lack the motivation to drag myself into a screening room so I slouch back in my seat with half a croissant in my mouth. Besides me the film students are being given a lecture from someone who works in the high end hospitality industry. He has drooping hair and a voice that sounds like a long sigh. He tells them how special ‘special days’ are and the importance of hotel loyalty. I briefly consider working in the perk filled luxury lifestyle business. But it feels too much like being the audience for someone else’s spectacular life.
I kill time, eat more pastries and tell anyone who asks just how good a time I’ve been having. Eventually there’s no one left to talk to and nothing left to eat so I go looking for something else to do. In front of the Palais a funny thing happens. I spot someone walking toward me who looks exactly like an old friend from America. The resemblance is uncanny. I wonder, have I found her evil French twin? Such a discovery would put a whole different slant on this trip. I’m naturally cautious. But there’s no need to panic, it actually is her.
My mind does boggle a little with the sheer coincidence. I immediately decide to give up on the next batch of screenings and we catch up on life through a few drinks and a well made chicken lasagne lunch. A pair of busking musicians soundtrack our reunion with quintessentially French songs. Jaunty tunes with plenty of flair on the accordion. It's one of those rare moments when life lives up to the expectations movies have inflicted on me.
We're briefly befriended by an elderly Irish couple. They're on holiday for the rest of their lives, but it’s time to for me to get back to business. So I make our friendly excuses and we leave. Heading back towards the Palais we bump into Diane Kruger and Joshua Jackson. As a couple they seem oddly juxtaposed; a 90 American teen heartthrob and a seriously dramatic European actress. But watching them stroll hand in hand the love is enviably real.
I leave my friend outside a party for a local TV channel and I return to my second home at the American pavilion. Famke Janssen is giving a talk about becoming a director. She has the improbably slender frame of a former model and a pretty face with hard edges. Her hair is jet black and her fingernails match. She says it's for her next film. She's playing an evil witch, but without scary facial prosthetics it just looks a little emo. She's serious, passionate and older than I thought.
I debate about leaving before the next talk on independent film distribution. But in the end it's too much work to leave and the panel have already arrived. Mild mannered debates start about video on demand and online marketing strategies. The fresh faced Facebook rep keeps referring to popular new Facebook apps that nobody in the audience knew existed. I start to wonder if he's just making them up as he goes along to see what people like the sound of most. Eventually there's nothing left to talk about, but I pass around a wallet's worth of business cards before I go.
It's finally time to watch another film and I assess my options. I could play it safe, but I'm unable to resist the allure of something exotic. 3D Sex and Zen is infamous for breaking Avatar's box office record in China and for being the world's first adventure in 3D erotica. Intellectual and animal curiosity gets the better of me so I join the growing queue.
A frazzled looking older woman next to me introduces herself as a famous French actress. She tells me she's won awards but I've never heard of them or her. I reassure myself that she has a festival pass and speaks basic English so she can't be too deranged. I take my seat near the front, accompanied by my award winning French stalker.
The cast and director stand up and introduce the film then sit down next to us. The film is exactly two hours long which seems excessive. It starts and the first hour is pretty much what I expected bawdy slapstick style comedy. There a strange 70s throwback vibe with all the classic Porno clichés tweaked for historical period china. Replace a cable repair man with the servant who pushes the old fashioned coal cart and you get the idea.
It's intentionally funny and mostly entertaining. The sex scenes quickly get monotonous and it's palpably awkward to watch them with the cast and 300 mainstream industry professionals sweating alongside you.
It's all going okay until the start of the second hour. Without warning the film flips a switch from silly to psychotic. With absolutely no excuse the film starts a repugnant descent into extreme graphic violence and torture porn. I can't even write of the exact horrors I have to endure because merely uttering them to you may damage you irrevocably.
Other people start to leave but I'm trapped alongside the people responsible for this nightmare. If this is what they watch for entertainment god knows what they'll do to me if I walk out on it. I fight my powerful professional instincts to run away and vomit. Although under normal circumstances that would have been the only sensible response. I start to regret that I have eyes and ears that work.
The film finally ends and I politely decline an invite to a launch party with the cast and crew. I'm careful not to make any sudden moves as I escape. I abandon my French stalker while she's busy distracting them with conversation. This could be a noble act of self sacrifice but I suspect she's just angling for a part in the sequel. She’s never seen again and the imaginary film industry morns a tragic loss.
Traumatised and nauseous I meet up with my re-discovered American friend for dinner. We search for a place to eat for over half an hour, mostly because I need fresh air and counselling to revive my appetite. I settle in the end for the healing power of pasta and conversation. I survive but just barely.
After I’m sufficiently recovered we walk back to the Palais. On the way we pass by a well known Danish actor. I decide it's best not to say hello because he's fall down drunk. It's probably not fair to burden someone who can barely stand with the added pressure of small talk. He narrowly avoids sidewalks and expensive shop windows with the help of some friends. I just hope he was celebrating good news.
Invigorated by a change of clothes and the excitement of my first official Cannes Party I return encore une fois to the American pavilion. Director John Cameron Mitchell (rabbit hole, hedwig, shortbus) is on DJ duty and it's a masterful display. He's clearly crafted a perfect mix tape of loveable old classics and obscure pop punk. Even the queue for drinks tokens is having a discrete boogie.
It's tricky to fly solo for too long and I start chatting with a friendly Serbian sales agent. We instantly adopt each other as de facto wingmen. He bemoans the fact that the UK can't handle Serbian cinema and that his last film about a gang who make snuff porn movies probably won't get a UK theatrical release. I can only agree. I meet some Australian producers, a Flemish actor and the usual array of friendly film students and Americans.
A hideously drunk Ukrainian woman, clutching a half devoured vodka bottle in her claw, tells me I need to be "more human". I think it’s safe to say that sanity may have been lost in Smirnoff soaked translation. But the night perks up again when I meet someone who has a custom made iPod nano on his wrist disguised as a watch. I'm jealous and it makes me want to live in the future.
John C. Reilly and some of the cast of "We Need To Talk About Kevin" show up. There are also a couple of guys dressed as astronauts in space suites and a few transvestites with Halloween face paint on. It's not entirely clear if they're all part of the official entertainment or not. Either way it's past 2am and the party is officially 'over'. I'm done.
The walk back to the flat feels longer than ever before and I have to get up early to hopefully meet Johnny Depp. I pass out in my clothes, dreaming of pirates.
Russ Nelson 13th May 2011
Quote of The Day:
“My reaction to porn films is as follows: After the first ten minutes, I want to go home and screw. After the first 20 minutes, I never want to screw again as long as I live.”
Erica Jong, Playboy Magazine, September 1975
Saturday 14 May 2011
Cannes Diary Day: 2
Without any assistance, I wake up. It’s a good sign. I’m already acclimatised and hardwired for early action. I’m dressed and writing by 6.30am. By 8am I’m logged onto the festival online service reserving a ticket for tonight’s red carpet premiere of “We Need To Talk About Kevin”. It’s the only British film in the 20 movie shortlist for the prestigious Palm D’Or prize. I tell myself it’s my patriotic duty to show my support, but really I’m just hungry for some red carpet glamour. I won’t have to wait long.
I leave quickly. I can’t help but notice that the tiny lift makes unhealthy mechanical groans whether it’s going up or down. But I’m equally concerned about the health risks of climbing 6 flights of stairs 6 times a day. I survive the creaking descent and I stroll down to the festival centre with a shiny ticket in hand.
This morning I’m going to my first screening in the Theatre Lumiere. It’s the crown jewel of the Palais Des Festivals, a 2,300 seat monument to the love of film. It’s where every major premiere in the festival takes place. It’s a huge cavernous space, where applauses thunders but silence can be even more deafening.
I’m approached by a passing TV crew outside the giant red stairway that leads up to the cinema doors. I suspect they’ve been lured in by my Cannes hat. At least it makes me look enthusiastic. I’m already busy preparing my finest French gibberish when they ask me if I speak English. They’re relieved to find that I do. They’re from the Ukraine and clearly happy to finally be talking at least a second language. They interview me about this film and the festival. I try to give them my best spiel. I know what they want. I try to drop in all the handy sound bites that will keep their editor happy.
The Ukrainians ask if it will be possible to go inside the cinema and film some of the movie. I explain that they won’t be allowed to do that. It’s a nice feeling once again. To be reassured that you have superior knowledge, even if it only amounts to old fashioned common sense. They thank me again and head off aimlessly.
There’s a noticeable lack of organised queuing. I climb on top of a nearby concrete bollard to more accurately assess the lie of the land. The mob is excited but patient. They swarm casually around the security checkpoints as the doors finally open. I pass through without a hitch and amble up the famous red stairs. It would be more exciting if I could watch myself do it. But in the moment it’s hard to imagine I’m walking in the footsteps of my heroes. It’s just a lot of stairs.
Inside I climb even more stairs before finally stepping into the gargantuan auditorium. It has the airy high ceiling feel of a sports arena. There’s no hint of the cramped cosy comfort of a typical cinema. Around me, quiet debates rage about the etiquette of seat saving. Can one French woman and a magazine really be ‘saving’ four seats? The lights dim and the answer becomes irrelevant.
The film is called Sleeping Beauty. It stars Emily Browning who looks like a flawless and diminutive doll. By its on admission it’s an erotic drama and it’s exactly what I expected. The beautiful cinematography and all the promise of the trailer can’t hide the fact that it’s essentially depressed porn. Sullen dialogue frequently punctuated by casual full frontal nudity. There’s little plot and the film finally ends literally with a whimper not a bang. The lights come back on and there’s a smattering of token gesture applause. It’s not immediately clear if it’s for the film or the triumphant return of the lights.
I pay my first visit to the British pavilion and find that contrary to rumour it’s spacious. In fact it’s much bigger than the Americans’ place. I can even walk right out onto the sand on the beach behind. I sit down and soak in the sun’s UV goodness for a few minutes, safe in the knowledge I’m on sovereign soil. I feel relaxed. But, I’m already addicted to the Panini and chatty film students so in the end I head back to the American tent for lunch. In what I have now decided will be a daily ritual.
I sit in the sun since shade is premium real estate when it’s so relentlessly hot. I order a couple of fruit rouge flavoured waters and the Panini du jour. It’s busy and it’s not long before I’m joined at my table by an out of work French producer from Paris. At first we concentrate on our respective iPads but sure enough eventually when our technology is rendered too hot to hold by the baking midday sun we resort to conversation. We trade war stories and business cards. I’m getting really good at swapping cards. I’m finding the fact I have a few different ones seems to impress people. More is always more in this town.
Eventually the French producer abandons me to continue her search for a job. I call my girlfriend on her lunch break and let her know how it’s all going. She chastises me because when I say I’m eating some Yoghurt, I pronounce it the American way. It can’t be helped; linguistic osmosis is unavoidable. Even so, I’m lucky she still loves me.
I drift back to the apartment and watch videos from the Kung Fu Panda 2 photo call taken by my partner in crime. Jack Black looks slim and spherical at the same time. Dustin Hoffman looks exactly the same as he has done for at least two decades and the camera continues to adore Angelina Jolie’s face.
Refreshed and entertained I head back down to pick up my ticket for tonight’s red carpet. Disaster strikes suddenly. I arrive at a deserted ticket reception. It’s haunted by one person who tells me my reservation was just cancelled because I hadn’t picked it up by 4.30pm and they shut at 5pm. I lament the French work ethic and my earlier lack of urgency.
Utterly dejected I start to wander listlessly down the waterfront. I can’t believe it looks like being on Ukrainian television will turn out to be the highlight of my day. Despondent and ticketless I face the stark prospect of a wasted lonely night. Has failure finally found me in France?
I remember hearing that Jessie J is performing a concert for Le Grand Journal down on the beach. It’s a nightly French TV show and just about the only option for adventure I have left. At least it’s far away from the Palais and any reminders of my misfortune. I stride out towards the opposite end of the beach with purpose but not much hope.
It’s not hard to find the well lit open air stage. It beams out brightly, competing with the background sunset. From a distance I can see that the stage seems to be winning at least the attention of a small huddled crowd. As I approach to pick my best vantage point, I notice a small silver gated entrance nearby. I investigate for a moment to see what’s going on and a silver luxury car pulls up alongside. A woman steps out in a priceless white evening gown. It’s Jane Fonda. Her hair is perfectly feathered and her makeup is practically a time machine.
Intrigued I stay put. Then without warning, it happens. Grey wispy hair. Black thick rimmed glasses. It’s Woody Allen. He walks nervously out onto the street. Instantly someone else asks him for an autograph and he obliges. Instinct kicks in. Without hesitation I hold out an autograph book too. He signs while I praise his new film which I haven’t actually seen. I tell him it’s an honour to meet him and he retreats into a waiting car with tinted windows. It’s magic.
I’m in a state of euphoria as Jessie J begins serenading me. My evening now transformed from tragic to triumphant. I’m still grinning after her final warble when haute couture designer Jean-Paul Gautier walks out. He’s a surprisingly jolly French fashion icon. We’re both obviously having good nights and we share a happy photo together to celebrate.
I decide to quit while I’m ahead and go back to the flat. It’s tough going though as the evening floodgates are open and the street is thick with people. Passing by a long stretch of glitzy red carpet movement become impossible. I’m trapped; pinned down by pedestrians next to the entrance for a press pen filled with TV camera crews and well dressed journalists.
I step inside the press pen to let a clumsy cameraman past and security swoops in, closing the gate behind me. I am most definitely not supposed to be here. I don’t have the right credentials. I don’t even look the part. But this is too good an opportunity to miss. I’m an accidental hero.
I have to think fast, this is a delicate predicament. I’m not even going to be able to talk my way out of it if things go wrong. I sidle up to some print journalists with my dictaphone quickly in hand. I make an obvious show of adjusting the settings. I try to look busy, bored and impatient. I blend in nicely. Away from the red carpet burly suited security guards chase away passersby who leer too close or for too long. This is the Calvin Klein VIP party and they clearly don’t want random lurkers. I may be in some peril.
I’m saved by famous faces. Some gorgeous models arrive and I become totally invisible and safe. Uma Thurman arrives, switching her daytime white dress for an afterhours little black number. Roasrio Dawson and Disney diva Vanessa Hudgens arrive together and confess they don’t know French but they do like nice clothes. When Emily Browning arrives I try to forget that I spent my morning watching her undress. Jamie Lynn Sigler talks about Tony Soprano while nameless models arrive fashionably late.
The red carpet slowly dies and I’m not well dressed enough to follow other people further into the party. But I’ve had my fill of high end fashion and famous face, so I say my goodbyes and leave the models to vogue themselves to sleep.
I randomly pass Jonathan Ross on the street. He looks a little like a well dressed Spanish conquistador these days, with flowing hair and an elaborate beard. Even so, he reminds me of home. He’s talking on the phone so instead of saying hello I just give him a quick salute. I have no idea why either to be honest. But it happened. My only excuse is bleary eyed patriotism.
When I finally make it as far as the Palais, “We need to talk about Kevin” has just finished. Tilda Swinton shuffles past looking like she might really be the white witch from Narnia. John C. Reilly follows behind her and I tell him I enjoyed the film. Of course I never saw it, but I certainly enjoyed not seeing it...
Russ Nelson – 12th May 2011
Quote of the Day:
"I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying." - Woody Allen
I leave quickly. I can’t help but notice that the tiny lift makes unhealthy mechanical groans whether it’s going up or down. But I’m equally concerned about the health risks of climbing 6 flights of stairs 6 times a day. I survive the creaking descent and I stroll down to the festival centre with a shiny ticket in hand.
This morning I’m going to my first screening in the Theatre Lumiere. It’s the crown jewel of the Palais Des Festivals, a 2,300 seat monument to the love of film. It’s where every major premiere in the festival takes place. It’s a huge cavernous space, where applauses thunders but silence can be even more deafening.
I’m approached by a passing TV crew outside the giant red stairway that leads up to the cinema doors. I suspect they’ve been lured in by my Cannes hat. At least it makes me look enthusiastic. I’m already busy preparing my finest French gibberish when they ask me if I speak English. They’re relieved to find that I do. They’re from the Ukraine and clearly happy to finally be talking at least a second language. They interview me about this film and the festival. I try to give them my best spiel. I know what they want. I try to drop in all the handy sound bites that will keep their editor happy.
The Ukrainians ask if it will be possible to go inside the cinema and film some of the movie. I explain that they won’t be allowed to do that. It’s a nice feeling once again. To be reassured that you have superior knowledge, even if it only amounts to old fashioned common sense. They thank me again and head off aimlessly.
There’s a noticeable lack of organised queuing. I climb on top of a nearby concrete bollard to more accurately assess the lie of the land. The mob is excited but patient. They swarm casually around the security checkpoints as the doors finally open. I pass through without a hitch and amble up the famous red stairs. It would be more exciting if I could watch myself do it. But in the moment it’s hard to imagine I’m walking in the footsteps of my heroes. It’s just a lot of stairs.
Inside I climb even more stairs before finally stepping into the gargantuan auditorium. It has the airy high ceiling feel of a sports arena. There’s no hint of the cramped cosy comfort of a typical cinema. Around me, quiet debates rage about the etiquette of seat saving. Can one French woman and a magazine really be ‘saving’ four seats? The lights dim and the answer becomes irrelevant.
The film is called Sleeping Beauty. It stars Emily Browning who looks like a flawless and diminutive doll. By its on admission it’s an erotic drama and it’s exactly what I expected. The beautiful cinematography and all the promise of the trailer can’t hide the fact that it’s essentially depressed porn. Sullen dialogue frequently punctuated by casual full frontal nudity. There’s little plot and the film finally ends literally with a whimper not a bang. The lights come back on and there’s a smattering of token gesture applause. It’s not immediately clear if it’s for the film or the triumphant return of the lights.
I pay my first visit to the British pavilion and find that contrary to rumour it’s spacious. In fact it’s much bigger than the Americans’ place. I can even walk right out onto the sand on the beach behind. I sit down and soak in the sun’s UV goodness for a few minutes, safe in the knowledge I’m on sovereign soil. I feel relaxed. But, I’m already addicted to the Panini and chatty film students so in the end I head back to the American tent for lunch. In what I have now decided will be a daily ritual.
I sit in the sun since shade is premium real estate when it’s so relentlessly hot. I order a couple of fruit rouge flavoured waters and the Panini du jour. It’s busy and it’s not long before I’m joined at my table by an out of work French producer from Paris. At first we concentrate on our respective iPads but sure enough eventually when our technology is rendered too hot to hold by the baking midday sun we resort to conversation. We trade war stories and business cards. I’m getting really good at swapping cards. I’m finding the fact I have a few different ones seems to impress people. More is always more in this town.
Eventually the French producer abandons me to continue her search for a job. I call my girlfriend on her lunch break and let her know how it’s all going. She chastises me because when I say I’m eating some Yoghurt, I pronounce it the American way. It can’t be helped; linguistic osmosis is unavoidable. Even so, I’m lucky she still loves me.
I drift back to the apartment and watch videos from the Kung Fu Panda 2 photo call taken by my partner in crime. Jack Black looks slim and spherical at the same time. Dustin Hoffman looks exactly the same as he has done for at least two decades and the camera continues to adore Angelina Jolie’s face.
Refreshed and entertained I head back down to pick up my ticket for tonight’s red carpet. Disaster strikes suddenly. I arrive at a deserted ticket reception. It’s haunted by one person who tells me my reservation was just cancelled because I hadn’t picked it up by 4.30pm and they shut at 5pm. I lament the French work ethic and my earlier lack of urgency.
Utterly dejected I start to wander listlessly down the waterfront. I can’t believe it looks like being on Ukrainian television will turn out to be the highlight of my day. Despondent and ticketless I face the stark prospect of a wasted lonely night. Has failure finally found me in France?
I remember hearing that Jessie J is performing a concert for Le Grand Journal down on the beach. It’s a nightly French TV show and just about the only option for adventure I have left. At least it’s far away from the Palais and any reminders of my misfortune. I stride out towards the opposite end of the beach with purpose but not much hope.
It’s not hard to find the well lit open air stage. It beams out brightly, competing with the background sunset. From a distance I can see that the stage seems to be winning at least the attention of a small huddled crowd. As I approach to pick my best vantage point, I notice a small silver gated entrance nearby. I investigate for a moment to see what’s going on and a silver luxury car pulls up alongside. A woman steps out in a priceless white evening gown. It’s Jane Fonda. Her hair is perfectly feathered and her makeup is practically a time machine.
Intrigued I stay put. Then without warning, it happens. Grey wispy hair. Black thick rimmed glasses. It’s Woody Allen. He walks nervously out onto the street. Instantly someone else asks him for an autograph and he obliges. Instinct kicks in. Without hesitation I hold out an autograph book too. He signs while I praise his new film which I haven’t actually seen. I tell him it’s an honour to meet him and he retreats into a waiting car with tinted windows. It’s magic.
I’m in a state of euphoria as Jessie J begins serenading me. My evening now transformed from tragic to triumphant. I’m still grinning after her final warble when haute couture designer Jean-Paul Gautier walks out. He’s a surprisingly jolly French fashion icon. We’re both obviously having good nights and we share a happy photo together to celebrate.
I decide to quit while I’m ahead and go back to the flat. It’s tough going though as the evening floodgates are open and the street is thick with people. Passing by a long stretch of glitzy red carpet movement become impossible. I’m trapped; pinned down by pedestrians next to the entrance for a press pen filled with TV camera crews and well dressed journalists.
I step inside the press pen to let a clumsy cameraman past and security swoops in, closing the gate behind me. I am most definitely not supposed to be here. I don’t have the right credentials. I don’t even look the part. But this is too good an opportunity to miss. I’m an accidental hero.
I have to think fast, this is a delicate predicament. I’m not even going to be able to talk my way out of it if things go wrong. I sidle up to some print journalists with my dictaphone quickly in hand. I make an obvious show of adjusting the settings. I try to look busy, bored and impatient. I blend in nicely. Away from the red carpet burly suited security guards chase away passersby who leer too close or for too long. This is the Calvin Klein VIP party and they clearly don’t want random lurkers. I may be in some peril.
I’m saved by famous faces. Some gorgeous models arrive and I become totally invisible and safe. Uma Thurman arrives, switching her daytime white dress for an afterhours little black number. Roasrio Dawson and Disney diva Vanessa Hudgens arrive together and confess they don’t know French but they do like nice clothes. When Emily Browning arrives I try to forget that I spent my morning watching her undress. Jamie Lynn Sigler talks about Tony Soprano while nameless models arrive fashionably late.
The red carpet slowly dies and I’m not well dressed enough to follow other people further into the party. But I’ve had my fill of high end fashion and famous face, so I say my goodbyes and leave the models to vogue themselves to sleep.
I randomly pass Jonathan Ross on the street. He looks a little like a well dressed Spanish conquistador these days, with flowing hair and an elaborate beard. Even so, he reminds me of home. He’s talking on the phone so instead of saying hello I just give him a quick salute. I have no idea why either to be honest. But it happened. My only excuse is bleary eyed patriotism.
When I finally make it as far as the Palais, “We need to talk about Kevin” has just finished. Tilda Swinton shuffles past looking like she might really be the white witch from Narnia. John C. Reilly follows behind her and I tell him I enjoyed the film. Of course I never saw it, but I certainly enjoyed not seeing it...
Russ Nelson – 12th May 2011
Quote of the Day:
"I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying." - Woody Allen
Cannes Diary Day: 1
I woke up this morning to the sound of War. More specifically, Edwin Starr’s seminal pop classic ‘War’ on my iPod alarm clock. It’s an appropriately energising musical selection. The apartment is abundantly white and full of angles that make it look bigger and smaller than it is depending on where you sit. But I don’t have time to sit. It’s 6am and I have things to do.
I make a bowl of cornflakes disappear and take some photos of the sunrise to test out my new camera. An inspired airport purchase it’s an impressive piece of machinery. The zoom function alone may well prove to be the pinnacle of mankind’s technological achievements. It’s important to have the right tools in a situation like this. When I walk out the door I’m fully armed. I’ve got a digital dictaphone, two cameras, the official festival guidebook and my trusty iPad ‘Paddy’. With a bag full of tricks like that there’s no excuse for failure.
Arriving at the Palais des festivals I swap my first business cards with a short filmmaker from Mauritius. It’s a perfect start, exotic and yet comforting because I seem to know more about what’s happening than he does. The fact I have three different cards with all the matt finish trimmings makes me feel pretty professional too. I bond with a nearby New Yorker and use Paddy to search online to help her find the nearest Apple store. Congrats Apple it doesn’t get any better for you.
Bonding with Americans is clearly the shape of things to come. They speak English with by far the most approachable smiles. Although my atrophied French language skills seem somewhat redundant as nearly everyone I talk to replies in English. Seemingly perplexed as to why I’m bothering to try. At least it allows me to read all the free festival magazines.
Despite their literary generosity, the French have decided to selfishly horde ‘Midnight in Paris’ for themselves, so opening night invitations are rare prey today. But passing by a screening room I notice something’s about to start. Flying blind I head inside and begin my festival for real. I get extremely lucky.
My first Cannes film is memorably magnificent. A British film called Albatross; it’s a seductive comedy drama about a precocious young girl who turns a repressed family’s life upside down. Much like the fictional family I’m already slightly in love with the lead actress after just 20minutes. Halfway through the film I begin to ponder if I’ll be able to find time to go to the second screening of this later in the week. Probably not, but you never forget your first.
Leaving the dark air conditioned comfort of the cinema I head out into the blazing midday sun for the official festival photo calls. It’s my first chance to lay eyes on genuine talent. The floodgates open. In just under 40 minutes I’ve seen Woody Allen, Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody, Rachel McAdams, Faye Dunaway, Uma Thurman and Jude Law. My camera pays for itself instantly with treasured memories.
Woody Allen is petite and elderly. Owen Wilson’s hair has a unique golden tint to it. Faye Dunaway’s face is taut like a well made bed. Adrien Brody has gone native, wearing a little black trilby hat and a little black goatee. Uma Thurman looks beautiful in a motherly way in a tight white summer dress and Jude does not remove his sunglasses.
I watch the press conference for this year’s jury and witness my first contender for highlight of the entire festival. An oddly emotional French journalist stands up and says he has a question for jury president Robert De Niro. He continues. “Mousier De Niro I want to know, did you f**k my wife?” The confused moderator asks him if it’s a joke. He replies “No, for me it’s an important question.” The room doesn’t know how to handle this and neither does anyone official. Eventually De Niro scrunches up his face with his typically quizzical expression and replies. “Well, I don’t think I did...”. Only in France.
Setting out on my own, I finally manage to register at the American pavilion. They seem delighted to have me and my British accent proves inconsequential. I sit at a table for 6 by myself, but not for long. I’m swarmed by cheery film students turned waitresses. I order a couple of bottles of fruit flavoured water and a pesto chicken Panini. The food comes and a few of the film students join me to talk films on their break. We discuss Poltergeist, the history of Native Americans in cinema and Steven Spielberg’s career. It’s welcome company and good conversation. We all swap business cards and part ways.
I make plans to loiter around the American pavilion much more. It seems like the perfect place to mingle and munch hot bread. There are a few familiar faces giving talks and a flamboyant beach party promised for Friday night. Plans are already forming.
While massive crowds crane their necks and climb trees in the quest to glimpse famous faces on the red carpet for the opening night Woody Allen premiere, I make the bold decision to be one of the few people to head inside the abandoned Palais and take my pick of the seats in a deserted screening room. After all this is what I came for, to be part of the real action. The Films.
My second Cannes movie is about a Japanese girl who takes over managing the underachieving boys’ high school baseball team after the former manager who is her best friend becomes seriously ill. It’s full of endearing adolescent stereotypes and has an uplifting tearjerker finale. It’s the kind of stuff that any Disney TV movie would be proud of. My parents would be ‘happy crying’ by now and I have to work hard not to tear up. It’s too dark to see how the two Japanese men, the only others watching with me manage.
I have a hard time escaping and get lost in the international film section for 15 minutes. I eventually emerge, quite accidentally, through the artist’s entrance just in time to see Uma Thurman whisk herself into a waiting car in a white evening gown. A few other members of the jury follow her and I fiercely resist the urge to ask them what they think about De Niro and the Frenchman’s wife.
With no more films to watch, I take my first night time stroll down the main drag. The streets are flooded with people, as scruffy looking tourists and locals mingle with the post premiere crowds in black tie. I’m caught somewhere in the middle in three quarter length khaki chinos and sky blue shirt. I can’t work out whether my weatherworn Cannes festival baseball cap says seasoned pro or American tourist. I resolve to immediately start dressing better at night, to give myself more legitimate prospects of making it through some exclusive doors.
All around me photographers dart about taking photos of any passersby in black tie. Maybe they’re hoping to catch some random celebs by chance, or it could be they’re just trying to turn a brisk trade selling prints online by capturing everyone’s big night.
From a distance the lights and pounding music coming from beach tents appears to be amazing VIP after-parties, but on closer inspection it’s mostly ordinary restaurants and clubs, masquerading as exclusive with the visible addition of a couple of well dressed doormen. Still the knowledge that somewhere in this town something exclusive and memorable is happening at every possible moment is tantalising. I wander around for a while testing my sense of direction. I check where the good restaurants are and where the cheap ones are. No man can ever truly escape his budget.
Back at the flat I devour yesterday’s horde of tinned ravioli, shower and finally talk to my girlfriend back home. Fatigue keeps the conversation short but with any luck she’s reading this now feeling special because I mentioned her. I love you too.
Tomorrow I’m going to my first screening at the Grand Theatre Lumiere for Sleeping Beauty. Sadly it’s not a live action remake of the Disney classic; instead it’s a psycho-sexual drama about an exclusive academy that apparently teaches young girls how to be near comatose playthings for rich old men. There’s a lot of buzz around town about it. Perhaps it’s because of the apparently lush visuals, or maybe it just seems a more relevant story in a place like this.
Russ Nelson 11th May 2011
Quote of the day: “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro"
Hunter S. Thompson -Rolling Stone Feb 28, 1974
I make a bowl of cornflakes disappear and take some photos of the sunrise to test out my new camera. An inspired airport purchase it’s an impressive piece of machinery. The zoom function alone may well prove to be the pinnacle of mankind’s technological achievements. It’s important to have the right tools in a situation like this. When I walk out the door I’m fully armed. I’ve got a digital dictaphone, two cameras, the official festival guidebook and my trusty iPad ‘Paddy’. With a bag full of tricks like that there’s no excuse for failure.
Arriving at the Palais des festivals I swap my first business cards with a short filmmaker from Mauritius. It’s a perfect start, exotic and yet comforting because I seem to know more about what’s happening than he does. The fact I have three different cards with all the matt finish trimmings makes me feel pretty professional too. I bond with a nearby New Yorker and use Paddy to search online to help her find the nearest Apple store. Congrats Apple it doesn’t get any better for you.
Bonding with Americans is clearly the shape of things to come. They speak English with by far the most approachable smiles. Although my atrophied French language skills seem somewhat redundant as nearly everyone I talk to replies in English. Seemingly perplexed as to why I’m bothering to try. At least it allows me to read all the free festival magazines.
Despite their literary generosity, the French have decided to selfishly horde ‘Midnight in Paris’ for themselves, so opening night invitations are rare prey today. But passing by a screening room I notice something’s about to start. Flying blind I head inside and begin my festival for real. I get extremely lucky.
My first Cannes film is memorably magnificent. A British film called Albatross; it’s a seductive comedy drama about a precocious young girl who turns a repressed family’s life upside down. Much like the fictional family I’m already slightly in love with the lead actress after just 20minutes. Halfway through the film I begin to ponder if I’ll be able to find time to go to the second screening of this later in the week. Probably not, but you never forget your first.
Leaving the dark air conditioned comfort of the cinema I head out into the blazing midday sun for the official festival photo calls. It’s my first chance to lay eyes on genuine talent. The floodgates open. In just under 40 minutes I’ve seen Woody Allen, Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody, Rachel McAdams, Faye Dunaway, Uma Thurman and Jude Law. My camera pays for itself instantly with treasured memories.
Woody Allen is petite and elderly. Owen Wilson’s hair has a unique golden tint to it. Faye Dunaway’s face is taut like a well made bed. Adrien Brody has gone native, wearing a little black trilby hat and a little black goatee. Uma Thurman looks beautiful in a motherly way in a tight white summer dress and Jude does not remove his sunglasses.
I watch the press conference for this year’s jury and witness my first contender for highlight of the entire festival. An oddly emotional French journalist stands up and says he has a question for jury president Robert De Niro. He continues. “Mousier De Niro I want to know, did you f**k my wife?” The confused moderator asks him if it’s a joke. He replies “No, for me it’s an important question.” The room doesn’t know how to handle this and neither does anyone official. Eventually De Niro scrunches up his face with his typically quizzical expression and replies. “Well, I don’t think I did...”. Only in France.
Setting out on my own, I finally manage to register at the American pavilion. They seem delighted to have me and my British accent proves inconsequential. I sit at a table for 6 by myself, but not for long. I’m swarmed by cheery film students turned waitresses. I order a couple of bottles of fruit flavoured water and a pesto chicken Panini. The food comes and a few of the film students join me to talk films on their break. We discuss Poltergeist, the history of Native Americans in cinema and Steven Spielberg’s career. It’s welcome company and good conversation. We all swap business cards and part ways.
I make plans to loiter around the American pavilion much more. It seems like the perfect place to mingle and munch hot bread. There are a few familiar faces giving talks and a flamboyant beach party promised for Friday night. Plans are already forming.
While massive crowds crane their necks and climb trees in the quest to glimpse famous faces on the red carpet for the opening night Woody Allen premiere, I make the bold decision to be one of the few people to head inside the abandoned Palais and take my pick of the seats in a deserted screening room. After all this is what I came for, to be part of the real action. The Films.
My second Cannes movie is about a Japanese girl who takes over managing the underachieving boys’ high school baseball team after the former manager who is her best friend becomes seriously ill. It’s full of endearing adolescent stereotypes and has an uplifting tearjerker finale. It’s the kind of stuff that any Disney TV movie would be proud of. My parents would be ‘happy crying’ by now and I have to work hard not to tear up. It’s too dark to see how the two Japanese men, the only others watching with me manage.
I have a hard time escaping and get lost in the international film section for 15 minutes. I eventually emerge, quite accidentally, through the artist’s entrance just in time to see Uma Thurman whisk herself into a waiting car in a white evening gown. A few other members of the jury follow her and I fiercely resist the urge to ask them what they think about De Niro and the Frenchman’s wife.
With no more films to watch, I take my first night time stroll down the main drag. The streets are flooded with people, as scruffy looking tourists and locals mingle with the post premiere crowds in black tie. I’m caught somewhere in the middle in three quarter length khaki chinos and sky blue shirt. I can’t work out whether my weatherworn Cannes festival baseball cap says seasoned pro or American tourist. I resolve to immediately start dressing better at night, to give myself more legitimate prospects of making it through some exclusive doors.
All around me photographers dart about taking photos of any passersby in black tie. Maybe they’re hoping to catch some random celebs by chance, or it could be they’re just trying to turn a brisk trade selling prints online by capturing everyone’s big night.
From a distance the lights and pounding music coming from beach tents appears to be amazing VIP after-parties, but on closer inspection it’s mostly ordinary restaurants and clubs, masquerading as exclusive with the visible addition of a couple of well dressed doormen. Still the knowledge that somewhere in this town something exclusive and memorable is happening at every possible moment is tantalising. I wander around for a while testing my sense of direction. I check where the good restaurants are and where the cheap ones are. No man can ever truly escape his budget.
Back at the flat I devour yesterday’s horde of tinned ravioli, shower and finally talk to my girlfriend back home. Fatigue keeps the conversation short but with any luck she’s reading this now feeling special because I mentioned her. I love you too.
Tomorrow I’m going to my first screening at the Grand Theatre Lumiere for Sleeping Beauty. Sadly it’s not a live action remake of the Disney classic; instead it’s a psycho-sexual drama about an exclusive academy that apparently teaches young girls how to be near comatose playthings for rich old men. There’s a lot of buzz around town about it. Perhaps it’s because of the apparently lush visuals, or maybe it just seems a more relevant story in a place like this.
Russ Nelson 11th May 2011
Quote of the day: “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro"
Hunter S. Thompson -Rolling Stone Feb 28, 1974
Wednesday 11 May 2011
Cannes Diary Day : -1
Cannes is sun drenched without a cloud in the sky, but it still feels like a town braced for impact on the eve of a storm. Tomorrow the 64th annual film festival starts. A frenzied swarm of directors, writers, producers and actors will descend upon this luxurious slice of French coastline in untold numbers. I’m proud to say this year, I’m one of them.
Physically getting here was easy. The plane ride was quick, smooth and chatty. It’s clear that we weren’t just on the same plane; we were all on the same ride. I sit next to two people from a photography agency who lament the fact they’ll be stuck in dark room looking at nothing but computer screens for the next two weeks. I sympathise but grin with anticipation at my own more enviable fate.
It may be called a festival, but Cannes isn’t really about festivities it’s about business. It’s actually a massive meat market for the entire global film industry and everybody is looking for something. Actors want new roles, studios want can’t fail projects and producers just want money. I want all that, but right now the priority is getting hold of our accreditation.
We hurriedly slip inside the iconic ‘Palais des festivals’ and down into the basement to collect our badges. It’s an unremarkable queue; it looks exactly like any you’d find in the bank or post office. Spielberg and Depp must be picking theirs up later. There’s no sign of them waiting on line. But finally after a brief exchange of passports and confirmation emails, we’re officially part of the festival. Armed with festival photo passes we’re now unstoppable.
It’s a delicious feeling to breeze through security checks with a simple flash of a badge. As the afternoon wanes on the novelty fades a little, especially as you start to notice at least half the people in streets seem to have one too. But still, you wouldn’t want to be one of the other half would you?
We walk to the back of the complex in search of the international pavilions and find an endless row of white tents, beneath fluttering flag s that represent almost every country in the world. We try to register with the Americans because the vicious rumour is that they do the nicest breakfasts and their tent is considerably less cramped than the British one. But it’s not open yet and like much of the town it’s still very much under construction. Seeing last minute carpet being stapled to the floor feels a bit like peeking under a magicians cloak too soon. So we agree to return tomorrow when the magic’s ready.
With our missions for the day accomplished we begin to cruise the nicest hotels. Who knows which stars may already be there, lurking in their 5*rooms, casually plotting the perfect outfit to emerge in. They may not yet walk among us, but they certainly tower over us. Billboards and banners plaster the sides of every building along the waterfront. Enormous pirates, cowboys, robots and even Smurfs loom larger than life above.
We go inside the Majestic to sit down for a decedent steak lunch. Photographers and camera crews hover around the entrance waiting for something amazing to start happening. Inside the walls are decorated with black and white photographs of timeless old movie stars. It’s a tasteful reminder of a proud history of elegance and excellence. Seated outside we opt for the shade over the sunlight. I can tell the heat is going to be a handful on this adventure.
I savour the tender meat and pepper sauce while surveying the terrain. Tomorrow these mostly empty tables will be filled to the brim with costly meals and costly talk. Having finished our food we haemorrhage some cash and walk back out past the same media throng. They’re still waiting and I suspect they won’t really move at all for the next two weeks. Some may never leave.
We walk next door and slip through the foyer of the Carlton Intercontinental into a dining area where a glass of apple juice costs 13 Euros. With our pricey beverages comes our first famous sighting, of sorts. A renowned and much adored French actor turned director walks into the room. Unfortunately ignorant of his name and the reason for his acclaim I can’t share the excitement of passing guests. Still the walls have nice pop art pictures of De Niro and James Dean on them and we’re given complimentary chocolate fondants.
Meandering back along the beach we see local teens sunning themselves en masse on the rare patches of public sand, clearly more preoccupied with all over bronzing than the impending movie madness.
We pass a TV reporter doing a piece to camera in front of a backdrop of luxury yachts, trying desperately hard to ignore grumpy heckles from a nearby French homeless man with skin the colour of an old leather handbag. It’s an odd juxtaposition of joy and misery. Interestingly his abuse is in perfect English. I can’t help but think how bizarre it would seem if in a similar situation back home someone like that was able to curse in flawless French. But that’s the English for you; we just don’t take the time to learn these things.
DreamWorks have erected a 25 foot high pair of boots on the beach. In case anyone’s unsure exactly why, two workmen are busy fastening a ‘Puss in Boots’ logo to the top. On the ground below waiters are busy assembling dining tables and well stocked bars. I’m not sure what giant novelty footwear would really add to a party, but that’s precisely the kind of thing I’m here to learn.
We swing by the official souvenir shop; lingering in the shade and admiring the predictable selection of key chains, t-shirts and branded bric-a-brac. The prices are vaguely reasonable and I acquire a much needed watch. It’s already clear that timing will be everything on this trip. After all, if you don’t really speak the language or know the score, you’d better at least know what time it is.
Eventually we head back to the apartment, picking up some vital supplies along the way. Mostly consisting of water, milk, cornflakes, strong sunscreen and some tinned ravioli. I briefly consider going back out to one of the local cinemas to watch some of the latest box office offerings in French, but that seems like shear madness on the brink of such a massive movie marathon. I wisely save my strength.
France has had a long love affair with the bespectacled genius of Woody Allen, so it’s very tricky to secure an invite to his latest effort ‘Midnight In Paris’, which opens the festival.
But with luck and an ambitiously early start we might still make it into the second screening tomorrow.
Russ Nelson – 10th May 2011.
Quote of the day - “Toto... I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore”
Physically getting here was easy. The plane ride was quick, smooth and chatty. It’s clear that we weren’t just on the same plane; we were all on the same ride. I sit next to two people from a photography agency who lament the fact they’ll be stuck in dark room looking at nothing but computer screens for the next two weeks. I sympathise but grin with anticipation at my own more enviable fate.
It may be called a festival, but Cannes isn’t really about festivities it’s about business. It’s actually a massive meat market for the entire global film industry and everybody is looking for something. Actors want new roles, studios want can’t fail projects and producers just want money. I want all that, but right now the priority is getting hold of our accreditation.
We hurriedly slip inside the iconic ‘Palais des festivals’ and down into the basement to collect our badges. It’s an unremarkable queue; it looks exactly like any you’d find in the bank or post office. Spielberg and Depp must be picking theirs up later. There’s no sign of them waiting on line. But finally after a brief exchange of passports and confirmation emails, we’re officially part of the festival. Armed with festival photo passes we’re now unstoppable.
It’s a delicious feeling to breeze through security checks with a simple flash of a badge. As the afternoon wanes on the novelty fades a little, especially as you start to notice at least half the people in streets seem to have one too. But still, you wouldn’t want to be one of the other half would you?
We walk to the back of the complex in search of the international pavilions and find an endless row of white tents, beneath fluttering flag s that represent almost every country in the world. We try to register with the Americans because the vicious rumour is that they do the nicest breakfasts and their tent is considerably less cramped than the British one. But it’s not open yet and like much of the town it’s still very much under construction. Seeing last minute carpet being stapled to the floor feels a bit like peeking under a magicians cloak too soon. So we agree to return tomorrow when the magic’s ready.
With our missions for the day accomplished we begin to cruise the nicest hotels. Who knows which stars may already be there, lurking in their 5*rooms, casually plotting the perfect outfit to emerge in. They may not yet walk among us, but they certainly tower over us. Billboards and banners plaster the sides of every building along the waterfront. Enormous pirates, cowboys, robots and even Smurfs loom larger than life above.
We go inside the Majestic to sit down for a decedent steak lunch. Photographers and camera crews hover around the entrance waiting for something amazing to start happening. Inside the walls are decorated with black and white photographs of timeless old movie stars. It’s a tasteful reminder of a proud history of elegance and excellence. Seated outside we opt for the shade over the sunlight. I can tell the heat is going to be a handful on this adventure.
I savour the tender meat and pepper sauce while surveying the terrain. Tomorrow these mostly empty tables will be filled to the brim with costly meals and costly talk. Having finished our food we haemorrhage some cash and walk back out past the same media throng. They’re still waiting and I suspect they won’t really move at all for the next two weeks. Some may never leave.
We walk next door and slip through the foyer of the Carlton Intercontinental into a dining area where a glass of apple juice costs 13 Euros. With our pricey beverages comes our first famous sighting, of sorts. A renowned and much adored French actor turned director walks into the room. Unfortunately ignorant of his name and the reason for his acclaim I can’t share the excitement of passing guests. Still the walls have nice pop art pictures of De Niro and James Dean on them and we’re given complimentary chocolate fondants.
Meandering back along the beach we see local teens sunning themselves en masse on the rare patches of public sand, clearly more preoccupied with all over bronzing than the impending movie madness.
We pass a TV reporter doing a piece to camera in front of a backdrop of luxury yachts, trying desperately hard to ignore grumpy heckles from a nearby French homeless man with skin the colour of an old leather handbag. It’s an odd juxtaposition of joy and misery. Interestingly his abuse is in perfect English. I can’t help but think how bizarre it would seem if in a similar situation back home someone like that was able to curse in flawless French. But that’s the English for you; we just don’t take the time to learn these things.
DreamWorks have erected a 25 foot high pair of boots on the beach. In case anyone’s unsure exactly why, two workmen are busy fastening a ‘Puss in Boots’ logo to the top. On the ground below waiters are busy assembling dining tables and well stocked bars. I’m not sure what giant novelty footwear would really add to a party, but that’s precisely the kind of thing I’m here to learn.
We swing by the official souvenir shop; lingering in the shade and admiring the predictable selection of key chains, t-shirts and branded bric-a-brac. The prices are vaguely reasonable and I acquire a much needed watch. It’s already clear that timing will be everything on this trip. After all, if you don’t really speak the language or know the score, you’d better at least know what time it is.
Eventually we head back to the apartment, picking up some vital supplies along the way. Mostly consisting of water, milk, cornflakes, strong sunscreen and some tinned ravioli. I briefly consider going back out to one of the local cinemas to watch some of the latest box office offerings in French, but that seems like shear madness on the brink of such a massive movie marathon. I wisely save my strength.
France has had a long love affair with the bespectacled genius of Woody Allen, so it’s very tricky to secure an invite to his latest effort ‘Midnight In Paris’, which opens the festival.
But with luck and an ambitiously early start we might still make it into the second screening tomorrow.
Russ Nelson – 10th May 2011.
Quote of the day - “Toto... I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore”
Monday 2 May 2011
Carl Barat Interview The Libertines Film Premiere
We talk to Libertines frontman Carl Barat on the red carpet at the premeir eof the new documentary film about the band's triumphant return at last year's Leeds and Reading festival.
Carl talks about making the film, the future of the Libertines, his recent and forthcoming solo album and plans to write a screenplay for a feature film of his own.
Gary Powell Interview The Libertines Film Premiere
We talk to The Libertines drummer Gary Powell about his experiences in the band, naked drumming and his many many future projects
John Hassall Interview The Libertines Film Premiere
We talk to John Hassall the bass guitarist for The Libertines about the bands new documentary film and his musical inspirations. John also talks about the best and worst thing about being in the band.
Director Roger Sargent Interview The Libertines Film Premiere
We talk to acclaimed music photo journalist and director Roger Sargent on the red carpet at the World premiere of documentary film There Are No Innocent Bystanders.
The film follows reformed indie rock band The Libertines on their triumphant live comeback at the 2010 Leeds and Reading festival. One of the most influential bands of recent times the band lead by feuding frontmen Pete Doherty and Carl Barat left a huge impression on the British music scene after the brief years the band survived and two acclaimed albums they produced.
Director Roger talks about the challanges of making the documentary, what it is exactly that makes The Libertines such a special band and how he hopes the film will help to present a different side of Pete Doherty to that of the constant tabloid scandal.
Glen Matlock Interview - The Sex Pistols & The Faces
We talk to Punk Pioneer and Rock legend Glen Matlock, bass guitar player for both The Sex Pistols and The Faces. Glen talks about his rock and roll life and shares some of his amazing experiences with people like Iggy Pop and Debbie Harry. He also talks about the current generation of rock bands.
We caught up with Glen on the red carpet at the World Premiere of the new Libertines documentary film.
Thursday 28 April 2011
Attack The Block Review
A gang of inner-city teens ('Chavs ' or 'Hoodies' depending on which paper you read) find themselves stuck in the middle of an alien invasion of their South London council estate on bonfire night. Their initial glee at the chance to cause some mayhem turns to fear as the full force of the ferocious monsters becomes clear. Retreating to their local housing block they have to unite with other residents to save themselves and the world.
Director Joe Cornish will be well known to some for his work on genius cult TV series The Adam and Joe Show. The infamous comedy show featured puppet based movie parodies and darkly hilarious satirical skits. He brings much of the same wit and visual panache to this memorable feature length debut. In particular a fantastic soundtrack and moody cinematography helps give the film an edgy ambiance, despite being more polished than the average B-Movie.
With Edgar Wright as executive producer and Nick Frost starring , it's no surprise that the film has much in common with Shaun of The Dead and Hot Fuzz. Attack The Block follows a similar pattern of juxtaposing the fantastica spectacle of Hollywood genre films with a mundane and distinctly British reality. The film also draws clear inspiration from classic 80s films like The Goonies or Gremlins. It's an enjoyable throwback to a time before films with young heroes were entirely sanitised and sterile.
With the exception of Nick Frost and Jodie Whittaker, all of the young faces in Attack The Block are unfamiliar newcomers. In a brave directorial choice they're also unashamedly obnoxious. The first time we encounter our young 'heroes' they're actually mugging a startled young woman at knifepoint. It's hard to imagine a less appealing introduction, but as we learn more about the troubled teens they become more likeable, or at least more comedic. Pitting them against an even worse breed of vicious alien nasties also makes them the good guys by default.
Attack The Block will no doubt attract a flurry of criticism, either because it is accused of glamorizing the thuggish activates of its young band of hoodlums or alternatively because it unfairly stereotypes inner city youth as loathsome knife wielding druggies. However it's important not to mistake the film's dark sense of humour for something more serious.
Without debating how accurate the film's council estate caricatures may be, it's fair to say that the film never shies away from their ugly side. If the film does rely on stereotypes, it's because the entire purpose of satire is to play on peoples pre-conceptions for comedic effect. However it should be pretty obvious from the alien invasion that this isn't meant to be a documentary. The film also makes sure that our 'heroes' get their comeuppance and manage to mostly redeem themselves along the way.
It's immediately clear that Attack the Block will be adored by many but disliked by a minority who fail to get the joke. Anything this unique and original will always divide opinion a little, but that won't stop it becoming an inevitable cult classic.
Tuesday 19 April 2011
Thor Review
After violating an ancient truce with a deadly enemy, the powerful but arrogant warrior Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is banished from the fantastic realm of Asgard and sent to earth, leaving his mischievous brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) free to take control of their ailing father's throne. On earth Thor must learn what it really means to be a hero if he is to become our greatest defender.
Originally inspired by Norse myths and legends Thor is one of Marvel's most enduring comic book heroes, but he has had a troubled path to the big screen. Thor is just as familiar and visually iconic as any of the most popular superheroes, but he has always been a little more fantastical. Talk of Gods and magic always set Thor apart from the science based world other heroes Like X-Men or Iron Man inhabit. Finding a way to integrate Thor with the real world and explain him to a sceptical audience was always going to be the film's biggest challenge. With a little gentle tweaking and a few forgivable updates to original comic book tales the film largely succeeds.
The appointment of noted thespian Kenneth Branagh as Thor's director surprised many, but in retrospect it makes perfect sense. At its heart Thor is very much a Shakespearian style tale of feuding princes. It's exactly the sort of material Branagh has built a long and distinguished career around on stage and screen. Of course with Thor it's buried beneath layers of fantasy and special effects, but Branagh proves he's adept enough at handling those elements as well.
The film's cast is an intriguing mix of accomplished familiar faces and exciting new talents. It certainly looks great on paper. Sir Anthony Hopkins is convincingly God like as the Asgard King Odin. His impeccable regal quality gives the film exactly the kind of gravitas it needs and prevents it falling into the territory of camp costume clad drama.
Fresh from her Oscar winning triumph Natalie Portman is able to coast through an undemanding performance as physicist and predictable love interest Jane Foster. She delivers all the necessary scientific spiel competently enough, but has little else to do other than stare admiringly at Chris Hemsworth's impressive physique. There's nothing wrong with her performance, it's just a clear underuse of one of the best talents of her generation.
Having mentioned Chris Hemsworth's appropriately impressive muscles it's only fair to say that he really is the comic book character ripped from the pages. He embodies everything a boisterous blonde Viking warrior should be. His convincing growl and hulking frame even manages to make Thor's red cape and giant flying Hammer look anything but silly.
However, the real breakthrough star of Thor though is not the titular hero but rising British talent Tom Hiddleston in the role of Thor's mischievous younger brother Loki. Gifted with cunning and dark magical powers as opposed to his brother's brawn, Loki is a worthy adversary as he fights for his father's affection and power. In the tradition of many classic villains, he is a charming schemer. It's hard not to empathise with him, at least just a little. With roles in War Horse and a Woody Allen film on the way, Hiddleston is definitely one to watch for the future.
In-keeping with Marvels other superhero franchises Thor drops several hints towards the long awaited Avengers movie. The Avengers is set to unite Thor with heroes such as Iron Man, Captain America and the Incredible Hulk. In particular Thor features a brief introduction to his future Avengers teammate Hawkeye, played by Hurt Locker star Jeremy Renner. But it's far too brief a cameo to give any real indication of what the character is going to be and how fans will react to him. Loki has also long been rumoured to be a major part of the Avengers and based on this showing fans should be happy if he does return.
Thankfully Thor doesn't allow itself to be distracted too much by the prospect of future sequels and spin offs. Any sly nods in that direction are neatly folded into a simple but enthusiastically told story. Thor works hard to make itself accessible to as wide an audience as possible. It adds a lot of tongue in cheek comedy to balance its melodramatic moments. For those who lack an appetite for fantasy tales the film also literally reminds us that magic is just a word for science we don't understand. As long as you're not expecting the gritty realism of The Dark Knight and don't mind your superheroes a little larger than life, you should enjoy Thor.
Ultimately it's a fairly solid start for yet another Marvel franchise. It probably won't prove to be a Spiderman sized phenomenon, but it's another comfortable piece in The Avengers puzzle.
Monday 18 April 2011
THOR and The Avengers Interviews
Thor Director Kenneth Branagh and stars Chris Hemsworth (Thor) and Tom Hiddleston (Loki) talk about the latest Marvel superhero film in London, ahead of its world premiere in Sydney Australia. The film also stars Sir Anthony Hopkins, Idris Elba, Jamie Alexander, Kat Dennings and Natalie Portman.
The cast and director talk here about bringing the Norse gods of war and mischief to life on the big screen. They talk about the challenges of meeting the high expectations of comic book fans and what it was like to work with the beautiful Natalie Portman. Chris and Tom talk about what Kenneth Branagh is like to work with as a Director and how they transformed themselves into the feuding brothers Thor & Loki.
The stars also talk about how this film was affected by Marvel's much anticipated forthcoming Avengers movie. Thor features alongside franchise favourites Iron man, The Incredible Hulk and Captain America in the superhero team-up adventure. Chris Hemsworth talks about how the knowledge that he would be returning in that film affected his performance. Tom Hiddleston talks about his strongly rumoured return as Loki, as one of the main villains in the Avengers.
The cast and director talk here about bringing the Norse gods of war and mischief to life on the big screen. They talk about the challenges of meeting the high expectations of comic book fans and what it was like to work with the beautiful Natalie Portman. Chris and Tom talk about what Kenneth Branagh is like to work with as a Director and how they transformed themselves into the feuding brothers Thor & Loki.
The stars also talk about how this film was affected by Marvel's much anticipated forthcoming Avengers movie. Thor features alongside franchise favourites Iron man, The Incredible Hulk and Captain America in the superhero team-up adventure. Chris Hemsworth talks about how the knowledge that he would be returning in that film affected his performance. Tom Hiddleston talks about his strongly rumoured return as Loki, as one of the main villains in the Avengers.
Sunday 17 April 2011
Your Highness Review
The brave and handsome Prince Fabious (James Franco) sets out on an epic quest to save his beautiful bride-to-be Belladonna (Zooey Deschannel) from the evil sorcerer Leezar (Justin Theroux). He is reluctantly accompanied by his oafish younger brother Thadeous (Danny McBride), a bumbling slacker who is more interested in buxom wenches and wizard weed than heroic deeds. The two brothers must defeat all manner of monsters and magic , with a little help from a ruthless female warrior (Natalie Portman), if they are to royally save the day.
The idea of combining pretentious fantasy adventure with the crude stupidity of a stoner comedy has some appealing potential. The generic plotting and clichéd characters of the fantasy genre provides the perfect platform for satire. It should be an easy target for droll observational slacker wit. Unfortunately the film's jokes follow an increasingly predictable and disappointing pattern. Every serious moment is ruthlessly interrupted by unexpectedly foul mouthed innuendo. The problem with this kind of shock value humour is that it suffers greatly from the law of diminishing returns. Amusing novelty gives way rapidly to boredom with constant and uninspired repetition .
Director David Gordon Green has a background in accomplished art-house films (George Washington, All The Real Girls) and successful low brow comedy (Pineapple Express), so he seemed well equipped to handle a fantasy spoof. Unfortunately the film only really grabs for easy laughs with mixed results at best. It's not that it's terrible, it's just that it could have been great but largely misses the opportunity.
A respectable blockbuster budget does at least ensure lavish sets, costumes and special effects. A five headed Hydra, a stoned puppet and a frisky Minotaur are a few of the films glossy set pieces. Of course it might not be enough to keep you entertained if you're not already laughing. The films excessively blood splattered action may also be slightly off-putting for the squeamish, but will likely appeal to the film's target audience.
James Franco takes a break from being an Oscar nominated renaissance man to indulge once again in his stoner comedy sideline act. He's obviously enjoying himself so much that it's hard to imagine this isn't his true comfort zone. Likewise Natalie Portman slips out of her Oscar winning ballet shoes and into a metal thong, sacrificing high brow critical acclaim for eager fanboy worship . It's interesting to wonder precisely what motivated her to invest her dramatic talents and credibility in a sea of dick jokes.
Justin Theroux steals a few scenes as a clueless warlock. While every time the enchanting Zooey Deschannel appears on screen it's a treat for the eyes that make the film a little easier to watch. It's clear that the cast are all having a lot of fun, but more difficult to explain why that doesn't always translate to the audience.
Danny McBride (Eastbound & Down, Pineapple Express) squeezes his usual arrogant underachiever persona into medieval armour with occasionally amusing results. But whatever you opinion is of his typical frat boy trash talk, it's unlikely that the addition of a few old English words will change it. How funny you think Danny McBride is will likely be a very good yardstick for how much you'll enjoy Your Highness.
The savaging that the film has received from critics is perhaps a little mean spirited and unfair. It might fail to live up to its potential, but it's still vastly superior to abysmal parody movies like Epic Movie or Meet The Spartans. At least unlike those films it's not just a random assortment of awful pop culture references and toilet humour.
Still if you're in the mood for a lovingly satirical homage to the fantasy genre you may be better off re-watching The Princess Bride on DVD again. If you don't own The Princess Bride then I'm sorry but I'm just not sure we can be friends again until you do...
Insidious James Wan & Leigh Whannell Interview
We talk to the creative team behind Saw as they launch their new horror film Insidious.
In 'Insidious', Josh (Patrick Wilson) and Renai (Rose Byrne) have a happy family with their three young children. When tragedy strikes their young son, Josh and Renai begin to experience things that science cannot explain.
JAMES WAN (Director) was one of the youngest students ever to be accepted into the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology's highly respected film and media school in Australia, where he first met Whannell and together they started creating and developing the world and characters that would become known as Saw, now the most successful horror movie series of all time as named this year by the Guinness World Records.
LEIGH WHANNELL (Writer) hails from Melbourne, Australia, where he began his career as an actor appearing in Australian series such as "Neighbours" and "Blue Heelers" and as a presenter on the cult hit TV series "Recovery", which he later went on to host in its last two seasons. In addition to his work on the screenplay for SAW II, Whannell wrote and starred in SAW III and is an Executive Producer on the SAW Franchise and a creative consultant on the SAW video game. Whannell's other writing credits include the Universal release DEAD SILENCE.
TT3D Closer To The Edge Premiere Interviews
We talk to TT racing stars Ian Hutchinson and Conor Cummins on the red carpet at the Uk premiere of TT3D Closer To The Edge. We also get the full inside track on the movie direct from CinemaNX.
Guy Martin Interview - TT3D Closer To The Edge Premiere
We talk to TT3D star Guy Martin on the red carpet at the UK premiere of the film. Guy gives us the inside track on the world's oldest and most infamous motorcycle road race, which takes place every year on the Isle Of Man
Blake Interview & Singing their New Royal Wedding Song
We talk to Blake at the Uk premiere of TT3D Closer To The Edge. The classical boy band talk about their love of bikes and share news of their new single to be released for the royal wedding. The boys even give us a little sample of the song singing live on the red carpet.
Murray Walker Interview - TT Racing and F1 2011 Championship
We talk to racing legend, commentator Murray Walker on the red carpet for the premiere of TT3D. Murray talks about the infamous Isle of Man TT road race and also gives his opinions on this year's Formula one season. He shares his views on the new rules and picks his early favourites to win.
Emily Browning Interview Sucker Punch
Emily Browning talks to us on the red carpet about her new film Sucker Punch.
Sucker Punch tells the story of a beautiful young girl Babydoll (Emily Browning) who finds herself imprisoned in a mental institution and must escape into her own fantasy world. There she has to fight to survive as she is confronted by dragons, killer robots , zombie Nazis and deadly samurai warriors.
The film also stars Vanessa Hudgens, Jena Malone, Abbie Cornish and Carla Gugino. It is written and directed by Zack Snyder (Watchmen, 300), who is soon to start work directing the new Superman movie.
Carla Gugino Interview Sucker Punch
Watchmen star Carla Gugino talks to us on the red carpet at the UK premeire of Sucker Punch. She tells us how it feels to meet UK fans and gives us the inside story on her character Dr Gorski.
Jamie Chung Interview Sucker Punch
Beautiful young star Jamie Chung talks to us on the red carpet of new film Sucker Punch. She talks about the demanding stunts and what attracted her to the role of Amber.
Jena Malone Interview Sucker Punch
Jena Malone (Donnie Darko) talks to us on the red carpet of new film Sucker Punch. She talks about what attracted her to the role of Rocket and how she transformed herself into a kick ass fighting machine. She also talks about how much love she has for her co-stars who have now become her best friends for life.
Gabriella Cilmi Interview
We talk to beautiful singer Gabriella Cilmi on the red carpet at the UK premiere of Killing Bono. Gabriella reveals she has a personal connection in real life to one of the characters in the film and talks a little about work on her new album out later this year.
Royal Wedding Comic Book Interviews
We talk to author Rich Johnston and Illustrator Gary Erskine at the launch of the Royal Wedding graphic novel "Kate & William" at Forbidden Planet in London.
Rich talks about where the inspiration came from to turn the romance between Kate Middleton and Prince William into a Comic Book. The book tells the fairytale love story from both Kate and William's perspectives.
Rich talks about where the inspiration came from to turn the romance between Kate Middleton and Prince William into a Comic Book. The book tells the fairytale love story from both Kate and William's perspectives.
Ben Barnes and Robert Sheehan Interview
We talk to Killing Bono stars Ben barnes (Narnia) and Robert Sheehan (Misfits, Cherrybomb) about their new rock music comedy Killing Bono. Based on the autobiographical book by Neil McCormick the film tells the story of two brothers Neil and Ivan who are convinced they are destined to be rock and roll superstars. They’re especially sure that they’ll end up being much bigger than the only other band in school, unfortunately that other band is U2…
Rick Astley Interview
Rick Astley Interview - We talk to cult pop music and Youtube sensation Rick Astley on the red carpet at the Uk premiere of rock music comedy film Killing Bono. Rick has sold 40 million records worldwide and is the only male solo artist in Uk chart history to reach the top 10 with all his first 8 singles.
Rick talks about his career and the real life of fame. He also shares a story of his ultimate rock and roll moment having a drink with Black Sabbath rock legend Ozzy Osborne and his wife Sharron .
Superman & Sucker Punch Zack Snyder Interview
Sucker Punch director Zack Snyder (300, Watchmen) talks about the new film ahead of it's UK premiere, while launching a book of the film's production art at Forbidden Planet in London.
Zack talks about his inspiration for the genre-mixing project in classic sci-fi and fantasy magazine Heavy Metal. He also gives us a guide to the story of the film and his favourite scene.
The film tells the story of a beautiful young girl Babydoll (Emily Browning) who finds herself imprisoned in a mental institution and must escape into her own fantasy world. There she has to fight to survive as she is confronted by dragons, killer robots , war and deadly samurai warriors.
Zack then talks about the recent news that Amy Adams will be playing Lois Lane in the forthcoming Superman reboot. Zack talks about what Enchanted star Amy will bring to the iconic character and how she will fit in with the new tone and direction the franchise is taking.
Similarly the director talks about new leading man Henry Cavill, the relatively unknown British actor who has landed the part of the iconic man of steel. Zack says that the new Superman will be more of a 'manly' hero than what we may have seen in previous Superman films. He's going to be more of a 'man's man'. Although he's quick to point out that Henry also has a sensitive side which is an important part of the character.
Finally Zack tells us he's amused by the constant speculation about who will be playing the villain in the new film. Rumours have recently linked Viggo Mortensen to the role presumed to be General Zod. Zack isn't allowed to tell us too many details but will admit that there is a villain and a particular actor in mind for the project.
Zack leaves us with a message to his UK fans thanking them for their support with all his past work.
Friday 1 April 2011
Johnson Beharry VC Interview - Dancing On Ice & Veteran care
We talk to Victoria Cross recipient and war hero Johnson Beharry VC on the red carpet at the Uk premiere of new rock music comedy film killing Bono. Johnson reached the semie final in this year's Dancing On Ice skating contest and he talks about being nervous about getting on the ice for the first time. he also talks about bonding with fellow contestant rapper Vanilla Ice.
Johnson also talks about the important issue of care for injured veterans. Having spoken out in the past about the lack of support for soldiers dealing with physical and mental injuries suffered while serving the country Johnson says he's taking things as they come now. He admits that whatever we do for these brave men it never feels like it's enough.
Johnson also reveals plans for his own new charity foundation which he will be launching once he finishes performing on the Dancing On Ice tour.
Sharleen Spiteri Interview - New Texas Album
We talk to Texas lead singer Sharleen Spiteri on the red carpet at the UK premiere of rock music comedy Killing Bono. Sharleen talks aboiut her musical inspirations and her rock and roll experiences of trashing ahotel and stealing a pot plant on tour with the band. She also talks about the forthcoming new Texas album. She promises it will be something new, modern and different form the band, while still keeping their signature sound.
Killing Bono Ben Barnes Interview
We talk to Narnia star Ben Barnes on the red carpet for his new rock music comedy film Killing Bono. Ben tells us all about his character and how he found the experience of being a pretend rock star. He also talks about working with Misfits star Robert Sheehan and says he'd love to have a part on the third series of Misfits, so long as he got to do a scene with Rob's character Nathan.
Killing Bono Robert Sheehan interview
We talk to Misfits star Robert Sheehan on the red carpet at the premiere of his new rock music comedy Killing Bono. Robert talks about the wonderful experince of having girls paid to scream at him as he lived out his rock star fantasies on stage.
Robert talks about his own real life rock and roll experiences and the possibility that he may be giving music a chance with his own album. Roberts obvious gifts with a guitar and indie good looks might make him a perfect frontman.
Robert also talks about working with co-star Ben Barnes and being impressed by Ben's Irish accent efforts.
Jonathan Ross Interview - Films Of The Year
We talk to tv presenter and film buff Jonathan Ross on the red carpet at this year's Empire Film Awards. Jonathan shares his thoughts on some of the best films of the year such as The King's Speech, Kick Ass and Inception. Jonathan laments the fact that so many awards shows seem to focus on the films which critics think are "good art" rather than the films which people actually like to watch.
Jonathan also talks about X-Men First Class which his wife Jane Goldman (Kick Ass, Stardust) co-wrote. he says he's seen some preview footage and it looks like a great new addition to the popular Marvel comics franchise.
Kick Ass - Mark Strong and Jane Goldman Interview
We talk to the star and writer of Kick Ass backstage at this year's Empire Awards. The cult comicbook film based on the violent and brilliant work of Mark Millar won several awards on the night including Best British Film and best Newcomer for young Hit Girl star Chloe Moretz. Mark Strong talks about fighting Hit Girl and Jane Goldman chat a little about her next project, the eagerly anticipated X-Men First Class.
This Is England News - Andrew Shim Interview
We talk to This Is England 86 Star Andrew Shim on the red carpet at this year's Empire Awards 2011. Andrew talks about this years best films and tells us about what to expect from the forthcoming This Is England Special .
Talulah Riley Interview
We talk to Talulah Riley (Inception, St Trinians) on the red carpet at this year's Empire Awards 2011. Talulah talks about her new projects and what it was like to work with Leonardo Di Caprio in Christopher Nolan's mind bending dream thriller. Talulah also gives her opinion on whether or not the end of inception sees Cobb coming back to reality or still trapped in his own dream.
War Horse - Jeremy Irvine Interview
We talk to young British actor Jeremy who stars in the movie version of west end stage show phenomenon War Horse, in cinemas later this year and directed by Steven Spielberg.
Jeremy talks about how he thinks the material will transfer from the stage to the big screen and tells us what it was like to work with one of the greatest directors of all time.
Four Lions wins at Empire Awards
We talk to Preeya Kalidas on the red carpet at this year's Empire Awards in London. The singer and actress talks about terrorist comedy film Four Lions. The controversial film from Brass Eye comic Chris Morris tells the story of four inept wannabe terrorists who hatch a plan to blow up the London marathon.
We then talk to the cast and crew backstage shortly after scooping their award for Best Comedy film.
Edgar Wright Interview - Scott Pilgrim and New Project
We talk to Scott Pilgrim director Edgar Wright on the red carpet backstage at the Empire Award 2011. Edgar won best director and Scott Pilgrim won the inspiration award. Edgar talks about what attracted him to adapting Bryan Lee O'Malley's comicbook for the big screen. He also tells us that he's working on writing a new mystery project at the moment. Perhaps this is the final chapter to the popular blood and ice cream trilogy, or it could be the long awaited Ant Man film he's been promising us for years. Time will tell....
Will Poulter Interview
We talk to Narnia and Son of Rambow star Will Poulter on the red carpet at this year's Empire Awards in London. Will played Eustace Scrubb in Voyage Of The Dawn Treader. He tells us about how being part of the huge C.S.Lewis franchise has changed his life. Will also talks about his next project a British film called Wild Bill, directed by and co-starring Dexter Fletcher.
Olivia Williams Interview
We interview best actress nominee Olivia Williams backstage at the Empire Awards 2011 in London. Olivia talks about how it feels to be nominated for her superb peformance alongside Ewan McGregor in the Roman Polanski thriler The Ghost. Olivia is currently appearing on stage in London's West End alongside Lost star Matthew Fox.
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