Inside Cannes

Through the light drizzle of Zurich, beneath that perpetually grey sky that never quite decides whether to rain or merely threaten to, I boarded a train toward Lucerne. All the way, I stared out of the window, slowly revisiting the Cannes Film Festival in my mind—not as it appears in brochures or on red carpets, but Cannes as it really is: exhausting, breathless, filled with endless running from one screening to another, from one queue to the next, among people who still pretend cinema might somehow save the world. (…)

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