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The Palais du Festival, site of the 52nd festival du film	Marche' du festival

Coten Films at the 52^nd festival du film at Cannes '99
written by Darren Jamieson

So what do you do at the Cannes film festival?

The Cannes Film festival, set in the beautiful Cote de azur in the South of France is the place where dreams are made, film projects come to life, and the stars are everywhere. Newport, South Wales, is not. It was whilst sat in one of Newport's more upmarket bars (they stop serving you once you pass out) that I, with only three days to go before the start of the Film Festival, decided, I was going. Along with Marijan von Staufer of 'Red Max Productions' and Natasha Rhodes 'Film Student at University of Wales Colege Newport' we set off for the glitz and glamour of Cannes '99.


Marijan in the Marche' du festival, grinning wildly	Natasha clearly missing the rain in Wales right now	Marijan and myself attempting to blend in with the French

Please explain, why must the world's most prestigious film festival be held in one of the most glamorous places on earth, with glorious weather and the most beautiful women (look at the photographs for proof, and she's just the one we took with us)? Is it little wonder that I actually didn't do anything?

Touched by fame.
I saw Jonathan Ross ( he's a Bwitish film cwitic ) walk past a pub that I was sat in, I would have gone out to talk to him but alas it would have meant abandoning a half full glass of Kronenburg, need I say more? Plus he was wearing a bright purple suit that seemed to clash with every aspect of the colour spectrum all at once, and it was much too early in the afternoon for that kind of pressure on the eyes.

We did meet two cool Dutch guys, Neils and Marty, who seemed to share our beliefs of bars and beaches, but these two drinking lightweights couldn't manage to get up before 1 o'clock in the afternoon, at which point several bars should have already been exhausted. I have to admit though, talking to someone who has learnt all his English from American action movies can be a little strange, especially when you start picking out Eddie Murphy phrases in the conversation. "Yo like, get the f**k outta here!"

Here is a picture of Neils, I guess posing considerably, but then, he is Dutch, and the things those Dutch guys get up to we can be thankful for small mercies.

He and his brother Marty spent most of their time lazing around on the beach and drinking in the bars, I just can't understand how people can while away their time like that.

What do you mean we can't go in?
Marijan managed to secure us some tickets for the evening all 'tux' premiere of a French language film at the grand Palais du festival. When I say secured, it's really a simple matter of showing your passes and asking for tickets but actually finding Marijan was a task and a half. Marijan isn't exactly famed for his punctuality, I've seen better time keeping from public transport. 'Ou'est Marijan?

All dressed up and nowhere to go

So there we were, myself and Natasha, skillfully avoiding the glare of the paparazzi on the way to our premiere. Okay so we posed every time someone so much as looked as though they had a camera. We waited with the rest of the freeloading hangers on, I mean other enterprising film Industry people, only to be told by some beefed up no neck French bouncer that Natasha couldn't go in because she didn't have a pass, the ticket was okay, but no pass. After much arguing in very poor French ( His was quite good, mine was poor ) we were offered another ticket by this American guy, which was classified as a press ticket, meaning it required no pass.

Excellent. But wait, why are we being held up now? Film director David lynch has swanned in, that's why, taking so long waving to the crowds that, yep, you've guessed it, no one can now be admitted after him. What a git.

Regardless to say we found a bar, several of them in fact. If ever you're in Cannes might I suggest a club called 'Sat', it's a German gay bar, very expensive, but a great place none-the-less, the stage shows are magnificent.

So that's the Cannes film festival, I promise next year I'll actually do some work... probably.

It has been brought to my attention that I have neglected to mention a certain French girl named Joelle, in fact she brought it to my attention and threatend me with acts of physical depravity... well, you can't win them all. I can not apologise enough, so here is a picture of the wonderful Joelle, relaxing at a sophisticated wine and cheese tasting afternoon with myself and Marijan. Needless to say, most of the wine was consumed by me, but then hey, I am British after all.

Trying to look cultured, it's really harder than it looks, for me at least, even if I am dressed like a cheap version of Steven Seagal! And he's pretty cheap at the best of times.

The pass card for Cannes '99, not my name on it but then they aren't really that strict on security! The stories are true, you can quite easily turn up and blag your way in, I did.