Remembering the 1978 Cannes Film Festival
One of my cherished memories from the 1970's was my lucky opportunity to attend the 1978 Cannes Film Festival with my first wife, Janet. We were living in Closter, NJ, and had joined a film discussion group led by Sid Milstein, an independent medical film producer. Sid and I hit it off. I tried to help him obtain some film work at General Foods and he made me welcome at his lab which was a block away from Young & Rubicam Advertising at 40th and Madison, in New York. When I was at Sid's home in Closter, I often played the piano and this prompted Sid to offer me a gig job he was doing for the Thomas Edison Museum in Edison Park, NJ. They needed some silent movie-style piano music to accompany two Edison silent films. I jumped at the chance and quickly learned how difficult it was to coordinate my piano accompaniment with a premade silent film. In 1978, Sid told me he had an extra invitation to the Cannes Film Festival and asked me if I would like to go. I immediately accepted his invitation, and this gave me my first and only chance to attend the famous Cannes Film Festival. It was an education. This post is the story of what happened.
My First Trip to Cannes
I had heard of the Cannes Film Festival, and I assumed it was the French version of The Oscars. I had a lot to learn. Cannes is a sleepy town on the French Riviera, which once a year is transformed into the world capital of film, and a fashionable resort. The coastal area which includes Nice, Cannes, and Saint Tropez, is known as the Côte d'Azur, the coast of the azure-colored waters of the Mediterranean Sea in south-France. It turned out to be a trip I never forgot and one I never wanted to repeat. It was just, let's say, different than the Oscars.
A Troubling Start
My wife, Janet, and I got to the JFK airport after I had badly sprained my right ankle. We met up with Sid and his wife, Barbara, and I decided to keep my shoe on throughout the flight to contain the swelling. We went from Paris to Cannes and finally got to our reserved rooms.
The next morning, with my shoe still on, I hobbled out the door with the Milsteins to register. Janet, not wanting to wait for me, walked ahead with the Milsteins, annoying me a bit. But when we got to the registration center, Sid's advice paid off. He had warned me that French administrative skills were unpredictable, and the best way to get registered quickly was to be prepared to offer the clerk a box of chocolates in appreciation for his or her help. It worked. I soon had our passes to attend all theaters and events coming up.
There was a master schedule of film showings and awards, of course, but you could also wander about Cannes and see films playing in as many as 40 theaters. You simply walked in, sat down, and watched. In one theater, Janet and I sat down and some teenagers were making a lot of noise behind us, so I turned around and loudly complained I couldn't make an investment decision if I couldn't hear the film. It worked. They shut up and I was amazed I got away with my impromptu impersonation of a producer. But Cannes was all about impromptu impressing wherever you went.
My Encounter with Muhammad Ali
It didn't take me long to realize that the Cannes Film Festival was really all about deal-making. Wherever you went, deals were being discussed and worked out.
In my hotel, I walked past an open conference room and discovered none other than Muhmmad Ali sitting at a table surrounded by his entourage. Wow! A chance to get an autograph. I boldly walked in and approached his table. He looked up and realized I didn't belong in that room. I was holding a blank piece of paper as I gleefully began, "Could I please have your autograph, Mr. Clay?” His anger was instant. "You should know better than to call me that!" he snapped. I had forgotten that he had changed his name from Cassius Clay to Muhammad Ali some time before. It was actually on March 6, 1964, 14 years earlier. Several black men were now looking at me as an unwanted intruder, including the Heavyweight Champion of the world. I gulped. With my most humble smile, I quietly responded, "I guess I've been a fan for a long time, Champ." The crowd softened, and the Champ just frowned. "All right, give me that paper," he said, and I immediately obeyed. I got his autograph, but I slightly changed my retelling of this story later. I tried to make it sound like I frightened the great Muhammad Ali with my imposing look and size, I was a little taller than he was, but no one has ever believed me. I wonder why.
My Encounter with Brooke Shields
In addition to endless deal-making, the Cannes Film Festival was also a publicity opportunity for everyone to meet and greet the elite in the industry. One new star was Brooke Shields, who starred with Keith Caradine in a film entitled Pretty Baby, to be released in 1978. It was not entered, as far as I can tell, in the festival films, but everyone knew about it. The movie had a lot of notoriety about Broke Shields age: Was she under age? Was she actually nude in some scenes?
To my surprise, Sid Milstein had made dinner date with Brooke Shields’ mother, the person managing the young star’s career, and he invited my wife and I to attend. Just before arriving for dinner, I was standing outside the restaurant when a large limo pulled up and stopped in the traffic. In the backseat, less than ten feet away, was the young girl star with a lollipop in her mouth. I must have been starstruck, and staring too long, because she turned and glared back at me with a scowl. I guess she got a lot of stares and she didn't like it. Her big limo then pulled away and I never had a chance to speak with her. I later wondered if the lollipop was used to imply she was younger than you thought.
My Favorite Movie: Midnight Express
The film that won first place was called The Tree of Wooden Clogs, but as one American Critic summed it up, “It was so boring, I fell asleep in the middle of it.” I assume there were endless politics to explain the judge's choice. I simply don't care. The most memorable event on the night of the big awards was the black-tie dinner I attended with the wrong tux jacket. Back in New York, I had rented my tux from a shop that swore I should wear a white, not a black, dinner jacket. They were wrong. I was the only man in the entire room wearing a white jacket. What do you expect from an American?
My favorite movie was an American film starring Brad Davis. It was based on a true story about Billy Hayes, a young American student visiting Turkey in 1970, who was caught trying to smuggle four pounds of Hashish out of the country. It showed the Hell the young American was subjected to in a Turkish prison. His family smuggled in money for him in a book, but he could only escape when a guard tried to rape him, and was accidentally killed. Hayes changed into the guard's uniform and walked out. I remember seeing the real Billy Hayes on display in front of one of the hotels in Cannes.
Visiting the Casino at Monte Carlo
Another special site I didn't want to miss was the famous casino in Monaco, just across the border of southern France. I remembered the publicity that the Prince Rainier of Monaco got in the 1950's on his worldwide search for a wife. He even dated a beauty queen at the University of Illinois while I was a student there. In the end, as the world knows, he married Grace Kelly in 1956.
On a sunny day, Janet and I rented a car and drove down to Monte Carlo. It was an absolutely beautiful building and setting but there was no action to speak of when we got there. So, we walked around and drove back up to Cannes.
My Up-Close Look at The Jet Set
In the 1970's, we called the super-rich “The Jet Set” because they took jets everywhere--even for a lunch date. Now we call them Oligarchs or Billionaires, and know they also have giant, ocean-going yachts. But I quickly discovered they had yachts when I got to Cannes. As walk along the shore you can spot many of these big boats anchored close by.
I was curious. So, I walked onto the beach to view the elegant and elite, some of whom were just off one of those big yachts. They were fairly easy to spot too. Imagine the most impressive bikini-clad models and film stars you’ve ever seen and you've got the general idea. But what surprised me most was the jewelry worn by these special people. I saw the most stunning gold rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets I had ever seen. It was classic simplicity, unbelievably elegant. For some reason, I started thinking about the guys I saw on the street in New York with open shirts sporting tons of heavy, junk jewelry; that now, brought to mind, made me laugh.
We Meet a Departing Member of the Jet Set
There was no opportunity for Janet and me to meet and talk to any of these upper-class people on the beach, but a chance encounter happened when Janet and I stopped for coffee on the road a few days later. The small cafe had only a few tables and the beautiful young woman sitting near our table spoke to us first. "Are you Americans?" she asked. It turned out she was headed back to America and, apparently, was looking for someone to talk to. We welcomed the opportunity and began a conversation.
She explained she had been a model in Paris and had married the son of the man who had formed U.S. Steel; his purpose was to make sure that no one in his family would ever have to work again. But in a short time, she found the rich life uncomfortable. She was completing her divorce now and heading to New York. "When everyone has so much money, beautiful women become property, even wives," she said.
Janet made a date to visit her for lunch after we got back, and Janet said the ex-model had a nice apartment on Fifth Avenue, overlooking Central Park. No surprise. Janet had the lunch date but couldn't add much to what we both overheard in the French cafe. I'm sure Janet was not looking to make friends with this woman. I guess the lesson to learn about the super-rich was something we already knew. You can't keep up with the Joneses if you don't have a lot of money. As I thought more about this world, I wondered how long it would take before you ran out of things to do and places to go? I could easily imagine what happens when everyone gets bored. It raises the question: can you actually die of boredom?
My sister was Miss Cannes Film Festival that year. She passed several years ago but what fun reading this post.