Palmes Away

LF back again, still soaking up the sun, the superstars and the disgusted looks from Frenchmen who mistake me for Lynndie England (I have got to get a haircut). But before I provide a recap of the day's big festivities, I just want to apologize for the lack of posts yesterday. I actually had a big piece all saved up and ready to go when I was...well, there's no other word for it...forcibly removed from the venue where I was writing. And let this be a lesson for all Americans who are planning a visit: France's government may call itself "Socialist" but five hours at a computer terminal in a Cannes internet cafe is not free. Since I had already used up all my Francs Euros on a visit to Lombaire's boyhood home (the bedroom still smells like Camembert) and an original vinyl copy of Serge Gainsbourg Comes Alive!, there was pretty much no way out of this one. Oh well. As I learned from the locals, there's a lot of history here. So temporary embarrassment will never diminish the knowledge that I actually sat in the same seat in the same building where Ernest Hemingway learned java.



I guess I don't have to tell you that my travails are not the biggest story out of Cannes this weekend. No, the news that cineasts the world over were waiting for was the announcement of this year's winner of the Palme d'Or, which translated into English means, literally, "box office poison." The prize was claimed by Michael Moore's much-discussed Fahrenheit 9/11. Clearly, the jury wanted to make a political statement with this selection. And that statement was: Disney...stay out of Iraq! I can't say I disagree; Michael Eisner's plan for a Fallelujah monorail service is clearly misguided.

Nonetheless, this was a very significant achievement for Moore, not only because I haven't seen the film yet but this is the first time a documentary has won at Cannes since Jacques Cousteau's The Silent World. Incidently, that was a very controversial movie in its day, mostly for the footage Cousteau secretly recorded of a young Charlton Heston shooting up a school of fish ("You'll take this water cannon from my cold, wet hands!"). Needless to say, MM is in very fine company and I can't wait to see him in scuba gear - 20,000 Leagues Under The CIA Director perhaps?

I just hope all this attention and acclaim doesn't go to Michael's head until he becomes one of those preachy, self-righteous show-business windbags that think we all give a hoot about his political views. It's like when Bob Dylan recorded "Hurricane". I thought, "Great groove, and I really like the idea of releasing a black man from prison, but whatever happened to that loveable mop-top that sang 'Lay Lady Lay' and 'The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll'? Will we ever get him back?" Evidently Bob heard my query and came back a few years later with his #1 disco hit, "Gotta Serve Somebody." Likewise, I applaud the Big M for his artistic daring, but when is he going to go back to making those old-fashioned, Laurel and Hardy-style knee-slappers he did with David Spade in the mid-Nineties? I'll be the first in line when he does.

Anyway, there's a lot more I could say but I'm still waiting for better distribution.

Quentin Disses Lombaire

As you know, I've been very busy in Cannes this week, living high and tipping low. Because of this, I haven't always been able to keep up with the actual festivities that have been taking place here. But this story - and a particular quote contained herein - did manage to catch my eye:

Tarantino takes French arts prize


Francophile

Tarantino told reporters he became familiar with France through watching film.

"That's how I became a Francophile, not by going here, I couldn't," he said.

"It was from watching French movies and learning about French culture through its cinema, through the eyes of its greatest directors and its stars."

He named French filmmaker Jean-Pierre Melville as his inspiration. "He gave the impression that if you love movies enough you can't help but make a good one."

Well, isn't that delightful - Quentin calls himself a "Francophile" (careful about the self-descriptions, QT, before the LAPD confuses you with the King of Pop) and cites a French director so obscure even I haven't heard of him. Apparently, Mr. Tarentino thinks it would be gauche to acknowledge the influence of the man who is truly his greatest artistic influence, one Ferdinand Jean Lombaire.

We all know that the "Le Big Mac" dialogue exchange in Pulp Fiction was heavily influenced by Lombaire, joining together as it did two of Lombaire's greatest latter-day obsessions, processed cheese and Jheri Curl (In certain circles, Lombaire is still known as "the sixth Debarge"). He was also one of the first directors to mix ultra-violence with humor, as he did in his 1968 black comedy about the Donner party, Une Chose Drôle Est Arrivée Sur Le Chemin À La Californie (A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To California). And long before Tarantino made Jackie Brown with Pam Grier, Lombaire sought to revive the career of another major "blaxploitation" star by casting Rudy Ray "Dolemite" Moore as Napoleon in the little-seen direct-to-video historical drama, Bonaparte Like It's 1799. Lastly, Tarantino's much-fabled "jump-cut" editing style can be seen in almost all of Lombaire's films, but especially the ones that run less than four hours.

Of course, Quentin can cite whatever influences he likes; in this French panderfest, I'm surprised he didn't mention Jerry Lewis. But why he had to add insult to injury by suggesting that Pierre Melwhoever showed him, "if you love movies enough you can't help but make a good one", I'll never know. Is Tarantino saying, by implication (and that truly is the French way), that Lombaire didn't "love" movies enough? My goodness, Lombaire loved movies like they were his own children - and not in a Woody Allen-type way either! Maybe Quentin will clear up this confusion when we meet tomorrow at the Cannes premiere of New York Minute.

Censored!

LF here - still in Cannes, still hobnobbing with the Beautiful People. Why, just this morning I saw Tom Hanks himself! Yes, the Tom Hanks, the man that put the "Turner" in Turner & Hooch! Tom Hanks - talk about a Big star, a man who's been down the Road To Perdition and is Bosom Buddies with Private Ryan himself! A Castaway who went out to The 'Burbs in Philadelphia and found he had Nothing In Common with...ok, that's about the extent of my Tom Hanks film knowledge. Truly, I did see him, and he really is one of the nicest stars in Hollywood. Almost five minutes passed before he told me to put the camera away while his family was eating, and trust me, I never lasted that long with Bobby Blake!

But as interesting as all that is, that's not why I'm posting tonight. You may have noticed that a number of technical difficulties have afflicted the Lomblog site in recent days: disappearing posts, missing pictures and incomplete archives. Now, I could pass all this off as our attempt to be "avant-garde" but anyone who wasn't born on the turnip truck yesterday can tell you what's really going on: intentional cyber-sabotage designed to muzzle my artistic voice! Let me draw the lines and connect the dots for those not in the know: Blogger is owned by Google. Google is owned by the Unification Church, which is headed by the Rev. Sun Yung Moon, who has donated billions of dollars to the Republican party. The Rev. Moon is also a member of the exclusive Bohemian Grove country club, and in all likelihood, has seen the President, the Vice President and Donald Rumsfeld naked. I'm not alleging a shadowy conspiracy to keep Lomblog down, but if I disappear from the face of the Internet for a few days, it won't be because I've gotten lazy or uninspired and couldn't think of anything to write; it'll be because powerful forces are working overtime to make me lazy, uninspired and unable to write.

Of course, it is a Worldwide Web, so Google is not the only flame in town when it comes to blogging. During my time at Cannes, I've already been approached by several European distributers who said they'd be happy to publish the site on their servers if I were to include more pictures of Avril Lavigne. It's nice to see the torch of artistic freedom is still burning brightly somewhere on the globe.

LF At Cannes!

Heads up, Lomblog-aholics - I've landed on the shores of the cinema-lovers paradise, in the homeland of Lombaire himself! Yes, I'm writing to you live (unless you're reading this after it's published) from the Cannes Film Festival. Unfortunately, I got here a little late - I always have passport issues - so I happened to miss last night's highly anticipated first screening of Michael Moore's Farenheit 9/11. No big whoop - I'm sure I'll see it on the plane next time I fly with the Saudi royal family. But I did manage to do more than my fair share of star-gazing.

The beautiful but frail Penelope Cruz has been hitting the town, sans her ex-flame Tom. Frankly, while I don't wish ill on any celebrity romance, I was kinda glad to see those two split. To me, that whole Cruise-Cruz thing was just a little too incestuous. C'Mon, Tommy boy - I know there's a lot of kinks out there but this is Hollywood, not Chinatown! Speaking of big stars from the Eighties, I also saw Eddie Murphy, making the rounds for the new Shrek sequel. You know, even before the talking animal movies, I always loved Eddie. I was actually fortunate enough to go to one of his Christmas parties a few years ago. And whatever else you say about him, there's no doubt Eddie loves Christmas. Yes, I don't think there's anything in the world that he likes more than reaching into a stocking and pulling out a candy cane! SNAPS! OH NO, I did not! But seriously, no one would enjoy that joke more than Eddie himself fifteen years ago.

Also in attendance was Quentin Tarantino, who is actually heading up the jury that will judge this year's films. Quentin Tarantino as a jury head - now that is a fascinating concept, and I hope it inspires American Idol to impanel Courtney Love. And it's not just the film-makers who are here - some of America's best-known film-watchers have been crawling about too. Harry Knowles, the man who's issued so many "spoiler alerts" online, was spotted at one of Cannes' infamous nude beaches. Allow me to issue a spoiler alert of my own: Harry ought to think about changing the name of his site to the Ain't It Small News. I'm sorry, Harry - you deserve that after you ruined the ending of Passion.

Tomorrow, I hope to actually see some films, and maybe blackmail Roger Ebert into writing a forward to my next book. Til then....au revoir from the land of Lombaire!