Left: Wes Anderson, Moonrise Kingdom, 2012, color film in Super 16, 94 minutes. Production still. Right: Poster for the sixty-fifth Cannes Film Festival.


CANNES, WHICH BEGAN ITS SIXTY-FIFTH EDITION TODAY, seems to be forever in the process of commemoration. Marilyn Monroe, who died fifty years ago, is the icon of this year’s proceedings; a photo of her blowing out a candle on a cake captures her, per a festival press release, “by surprise in an intimate moment where myth meets reality—a moving tribute to the anniversary of her passing, which coincides with the Festival anniversary.” Yet even the very recent past is eligible for celebratory remembrance: Among the titles being shown out of competition is Une Journée particulière (A Special Day), directed by festival president Gilles Jacob, who tracked thirty-four directors when they were at Cannes for its sixtieth year in 2007.

This enchantment with the past is reflected in the opening-night selection, Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom. Set in 1965 in an island off the coast of New England, Anderson’s movie—a love story about two twelve-year-old misfits who run away—bears his signature fetishistic production design and retro talismans, such as Françoise Hardy 45s. Beyond manufacturing nostalgia, Cannes is also about the repetition of certain routines, some more pleasurable than others. (“The Cannes schedule is so impressed in the mind,” a colleague told me on the flight over—a comment I misheard as “a nightmare of the mind.”)

Part of this annual rite of spring is the press conference with the jury, led this year by Italian writer, director, and actor Nanni Moretti. Mostly a forum for banal questions from journalists around the world—many directed at Jean-Paul Gaultier, whose quiff nearly matched that of co-juror Ewan McGregor—the press conference did include a few queries about the exclusion of women directors from the Competition lineup, a shutout protested by the French feminist group La Barbe in a piece in Le Monde last Saturday. When juror Andrea Arnold—a British filmmaker whose debut and sophomore efforts, Red Road (2006) and Fish Tank (2009), both won the Jury Prize at Cannes—was asked by a London correspondent whether the festival had a responsibility to include distaff directors, she replied, “I would absolutely hate it if my film were selected because I was a woman.” After adding that “Cannes is a small pocket that represents the wider world”—that is, an industry with very few female directors to begin with—she hesitantly brought up a certain matter of decorum. “It was very interesting that the girls were introduced first,” Arnold said to moderator Henri Behar, in reference to the three other women jurors. His response may prompt a teach-in by La Barbe: “Well, I’m French.”

Melissa Anderson