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Cannes’t (Redux)

Cannes't (Redux)

Is anyone as bored with reading my annual Cannes apologia as I am with writing it? I didn’t want to create my annual “I’m not going to Cannes” post this year, in as much as this is the only reference I want make to the fact that the temporal distance between my festival and Cannes means that I’ll have plenty of time to catch the must-see films in the line-up later in the year, at far less expense and with much greater convenience (thank you Toronto and New York Film Festivals). That said, I have been doing a lot of thinking about my detachment from the movies of late, my need to keep a bit of a distance between myself and the movie theater. Last weekend, I was looking at the theatrical and VOD offerings in New York City and, I think for the first time in forever, I felt completely liberated from the need to see anything (that I hadn’t already seen). Nothing, not a twinge of regret, not a look at the watch to see if I could make it to my favorite theater in time to catch the next screening, nothing at all. I trolled the VOD line-up on my cable box and had the same feeling– even my Netflix queue held little appeal. Nothing felt necessary, and the only thing that seemed new was a film wherein a mad scientist connects people anus to mouth which, not my cup of whatever.

Even with all of the indifference, I remain insanely jealous of all of my friends and colleagues who are headed over the Côte d’Azur to enjoy a fortnight at the best film festival in the world. Enjoy, be safe, keep an eye on your peripherals and let me know how it goes. I’ll be at my computer, reading the bitching and handwringing from a safe distance. Bonne cinema!

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