Thursday (Jeudi)

Today, I finally found a power adapter, but I had to cut it up with my knife to make it work with my charger. It was hard to wake up this morning, but I managed to have breakfast in the hotel (where I’ve yet to see another guest) cash a check at American Express, and make it to the screening of Star Wars in the Lumiere theatre, the main venue of Cannes. It was in English with French subtitles. Of course the opening crawl and the subtitles for the non English speaking characters were also in French, but I think I followed everything. George Lucas does do an amazing job of creating a world. But this movie is still just a setup for the next one, which, I fear, will just be a setup for all the good Star Wars movies that we’ve already seen twenty years ago. I need to see it again from a better seat. I was in the balcony.

Here in the Kodak Pavilion, which is part of the American Pavilion, I’ve gotten a lot of positive response from my tattoos and other swag. I am still yet to get anyone to put a tattoo on.

There always seems to be something I need to be seeing or taking care of, so I missed lunch today. By the time I finally found something, I was faint from hunger. I feel guilty for admitting it, but I ordered the “Chicago Cheese Burger.” But it was very rare, and server on thin white toast. To try to be more continental I ate my frys (frites) with mayonnaise, then had a tine cup of Caffe while I read my Festival Program Guide.

I came up here to the Slamdunk Terrace just in time for them to tell me it closed at 6pm. However, I hung around at the bar for a while and had a make shift $10 martini – Gin and sweet vermouth in a wine glass. Now that that’s done, I’ve basically snuck into the next part; Slamdunk is off tonight. There’s some kind of meeting going on next to me, probably regarding the pending event, but no one has has taken enough notice of me to kick me out. If questioned, I plan to claim Slamdunk imminent domain.

Nothing he is Cannes is laid out for you; you have to figure out for yourself how everything works. In fact I just learned that there is in fact a printed guide for what’s playing at Slamdunk. There are copies all over the Terrace, but no one has given me one.

I also just overheard that there’s a Tromma party at the American Pavilion in a few minutes. That could be fun – I talked my way into their Sundance party, I wonder if I can do the same

So far so good.

Cut to two hours later. I‘ve been sitting here trying to upload everything but to no avail. I’ll have to find he tech guy tomorrow to figure out the problem with FTPing over the Slamdunk web connection. Anyway, this party never really did get started. They kept playing a Snoop Dogg record over and over as a small smattering (if that’s not redundant or repetitive) of people passed through. I met one French guy who said he was an actor and comedian – his thing is doing a rap and a beat box with a dijereedoo sound. I don’t know if that’s how you spell dijereedoo, but it’s that long Australian Aborigine instrument. He was good at it, but I heard him demonstrate this particular talent over and over whenever he met anybody new. I think he expected everybody around to discover him.

After a while, I ran into Hivere, a new friend from the night before. He was cruising the parties with 2 more friends and the four of us hung out together all night. So me, Hivere, Didier, and one more French guy with whom Hivere grew up, all left the terrace together to try to crash parties along the Croissette. First we tried the party for “Searching for Debra Winger”, a documentary directed by Rosanna Arquette. We couldn’t get in because they were still in the middle of a sit down dinner. After being rebuffed as well at the 007 party, we decided to go and have a drink at one of the hotels to try and meet people with invitations. Who knew it would work? Upon entering the “Bar des Celebrites”, I was immediately spotted by a table full of American film students whom I met that afternoon at the American Pavilion. And they had tickets to the Debra Winger party! Of course the one we had tried to get into was just the VIP dinner, the real party was somewhere else after 11:30. So the four of us had a drink at the bar, a proper martini this time, and waited for them to be ready to leave. As we were leaving, Jeremy, the one who had never seen a Star Wars movie until that day spotte George Lucas passing through. Of coursed he told me too late and I couldn’t find him. He’s about the only celebrity I would actually approach like a fan. He only recognized him because he had just seen him doing a press conference on a TV in the bar and he still had on the same clothes.