It was a strange Cannes Film Festival this year. Usually by the festival’s halfway mark, there are plenty of films earmarked as future classics – titles whose premieres lead to a spring in journalists’ steps as they leave the screening rooms and ones whose journey towards awards success might just have been kickstarted.
In their place this year seemed to be films of varying quality, whose quality nobody could agree on. But sure enough, the brilliant films started flowing in as freely as the booze being poured at the many parties peppered along the croisette – and with them, a sense of haughty unease was replaced by excited relief.
