Today is my second real day at Cannes. Saturday I was only semi-coherent, at least to myself, on only about three hours of sleep on the plane, followed by one of the most harrowing descents I've ever been in, second only to landing in Palm Desert many years ago.
And the rest of the day, wandering around in the pounding rain.
It's odd being a writer-director at the Cannes market, or indeed at any market. Film markets are about you, but they're not really for
you. Markets are for producers to sell to distributors, and for distribs to sell to buyers. So I keep having conversations that end with, "we'll that sounds really interesting. Let me know when you have a few more pieces in place."
So, oddly, I'm hanging out with the other Canadians. It is, after all, good to get to meet the up-and-coming talent. And it is always good to let old friends know what else you're up to.
One odd thing about screening your short at a market is that very few buyers or producers are likely to come to your screening -- they'd have to sit through nine other shorts. But it gives you an excuse to hand people the postcard with your poster on it, and direct them to your online screener. So your actual presence, or your film's actual screening, is just the tip of the iceberg.
The rest of it is just walking around the festival looking at the posters -- it's an education in what people worldwide want to see.
Such as AVALANCHE SHARKS