Thursday, June 14, 2012

I think I Cannes

Oh mon dieu, c'est Zac Efron: Oh my god, it's Zac Efron.

Toward the end of my stint in Europe, I was reminded how insignificant I am. Why Cannes't I get all gussied up and hair-sprayed and trot about as if the very skin under my feet were made of diamond-encrusted velveteen rabbit fur? Why Cannes't I hire someone to buy my clothes and then immediately sell them on ebay when I tire of them? Why Cannes't I be verbally harassed by manic hordes of screaming would-be photogs weeping my name through fistfuls of their own hair?

Some people have all the luck.

As you may have guessed, I am referring to the ever-celebrated annual Cannes Film Festival and the famous red carpet crawlers that emerge from their lives of bug-eyed sunglasses, oversized hats, and an unrelenting air of aggravated recognition to grace the common people with their presence.

We wound up actually going to the festival twice: once with very little success, and once with torrential rain and gale force winds that nearly Mary Poppins-ed me straight out of the crowd and high above the riviera boardwalk.

Our first team expedition to Cannes yielded the latter. And it was only sort of really miserable.

We went to find celebrities out in the open, in their natural habitat (unless you argue that the red carpet is their natural habitat which would be a very valid argument), because there were no premieres to attend. Unfortunately, due to the weather, no one in their right mind should have been outside, let alone anyone famous.

So very wet.

So we wandered around, carried by our whims and the winds, ultimately landing in a moderately expensive resto, drifting to the festival souvenir shop, and returning to the train almost as soon as we had arrived.

"I'm going to meet Johnny Depp, and he'll see
my Helena Botham Carter bangs and my
Sweeney Todd tights, and he'll fall madly
in love with me." --Elizabeth

One of the benefits of an empty festival: prime pictures.

So that was attempt number one. "Unsuccessful" only begins to describe it.

But we had fun. I am the master of turning crappy situations
into wonderful adventures. Not sure what title that allots me.

Our second attempt at fame and fortune and everlasting life yielded a somewhat more positive result. I say "somewhat" because it was very different than I was expecting. (I suppose my expectations were slightly too high, and I take the blame for that. But this, this was sheer mania.)

The day started out already in better shape than the previous trip as the weather was sunny and we were headed to an actual movie premiere (for The Paper Boy I think?). So we were guaranteed some celebrity sightings, red carpet or not. Or so I thought.

Once we arrived at the red carpet, we found some standing room behind the marked barrier for fans and onlookers. Sure it was kind of far from the carpet itself, but I found the curb of the road and stood so I could see over the heads of the herd of people in front of me. Perfect. Now I can see everything all the time. I am sooo smart.

False. Not smart. Horribly unsmart. You see, what I didn't know was that crazy-manic-psycho-fan logic is very very opposite of all other logic. So instead of letting regular-sized people stand in the front of the giant step-ladder people, the step-ladder people monopolized all sight to be had. They climbed on these towers of obnoxious self-importance and essentially formed a blockade between myself and the beautiful people.

Some of the beautiful people present were Nicole Kidman, Zac Efron, John Cusack, Matthew McConaughey, Macy Gray, Heidi Klum, Antonio Banderas, and I may or may not have seen the northwest corner of John Legend's head. May or may not.

From where I was standing, the only way I knew someone famous was arriving was that I could see even less of nothing. You'd think it would be impossible to see less than nothing, but I have seen it.

Left: no famous people, Right: OMIGOD FAMOUS SCREAM SCREEEAM

Elizabeth sneakily found herself atop one of the step ladders (you SNEAKY Elizabeth), so she was able to actually get photos, good or otherwise. So most of these photos are hers. I was content to photograph some could-be celebrity look-alikes. Like this security guard.

Isaac C. Singleton Jr. (or the "TOO LONG!" pirate from Pirates of the Caribbean)

I have circled the beautiful people in Elizabeth's photos, if you may have missed them, which really shouldn't happen, as their beauty conspicu-izes them.

Nicole Kidman

Macy Gray

Zac Efron

Heidi Klum

John Cusack, Matthew McConaughey, Nicole Kidman, ?,
Zac Efron, ?, Macy Gray

While we were trotting around town, we tried to trick people into thinking we were important. So Elizabeth, the fanciest of us all, put on her sunglasses, paired with her fancy dress and too high heels, and tried to walk . . . importantly. My wardrobe will always look not so much like a celebrity but rather more like a somewhat fashionable personal assistant, so I matched accordingly.

Tip #485 for being famous:
Never hold your own umbrella.

All in all, the experience was very fun, regardless of whether or not I had the opportunity to find Hugh Jackman and woo him. And we would live happily ever after.
Please note the yachts.
Dear beautiful people, you are not very good at hide and seek.
Amitiés :)

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