Oops.  I thought I had an interview with Chris Jones Friday morning at 11, but it turned out we had a miscommunication about the word “tomorrow”  when employed in an e-mail sent at 2:45 AM and, alas, missed one another.   Next time.  I was sorry to miss the opportunity to catch up, but I was admittedly grateful for the extra sleep – ah, blessed snooze button. By noon-ish we made our way over to the Marche for one last time (stopping for a sangria en route – I’m such a sucker for tradition.) We dropped off some remaining materials at the press box area, then met Nat & J at the central café to touch base before their final meetings.  Lost in  shop talk, we were suddenly interrupted by a loud disturbance:  shouting, banging, shoving, temporary walls tipping over – really?  A violent fight had broken out in a nearby booth.  People ran across the plaza to watch.  Somebody pulled out their flip camera and yelled, “And action!” Laughter followed, then somebody finally broke it up – the assailant cursing as he was dragged off.

We never found out what exactly transpired, but it wasn’t entirely surprising.  It seemed like tensions were running high among some and I wonder if there’s a Cannes cabin fever that affects those who spend the duration of the fest in non-stop business negotiations.  All work and no play… as they say.

I thought of Producer Guy whom I met that first week who’d lamented not being able to see movies due to endless meetings and wondered if he’d had any fun at all on his trip.  Sometimes when I meet “industry folk” I wonder how much of what they do is what they actually got into all of this for.

Well, by 1:30 on Friday we decided that our work here was done at least.  The rest of our stay was devoted to pure pleasure (not that it hadn’t been pleasurable up until now.)

We had the most wonderful lunch with Barbie and Georg at Café Roma where we finally checked off foie gras from our to do list – AMAZING!)   What a treat to be reunited with Barbie after our first meeting in Munster several years back and to also discover our respective partners complement us perfectly.  We shared details of our upcoming projects and resolved to help each other make them happen.  I can’t share details just yet, but it felt like the beginning of great things.

One of my fave things about being here was that everything felt like an adventure of sorts, whether it was work or play.  Like, for instance, when Barbie asked our waiter, “Might it be possible to get some olives?”

He furled his eyebrows in disgust and proclaimed (in a thick French accent), “Olives?! You want olives?! Imposible, Madame!  Imposible!  Because I am a rude French waiter and I refuse!”  He played it deadpan, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away (as did the small dish of olives with which he soon returned.)   He entertained us the rest of the multi-hour meal that still ended far too soon.  But, alas, we were actually due back at the villa to prepare dinner shortly – oops!  We said reluctant goodbyes, but this time I know we shall all enjoy each other’s company again soon.  It is simply necessary.

We dropped by the market en route to the villa and, though anything but hungry, grabbed some lamb chops for the evening’s BBQ, more cheese, chocolate and several bottles of wine and fruit to make sangria.  The villa was already hopping when we returned and dinner and screenings were a blast.

My fave of the evening was Marc Kess’s Mildred Richards which is the world’s first Radio Film Picture and let me say it is just way effin’ cool.  Mildred Richards was originally a radio drama (i.e. in the public domain) and a Radio Film Picture is a film shot to go with the original recording.  Kess did an amazing job – it looks like a genuine 40s noir film.  He’s making more and if you get the chance to see one, by all means do.  In the meantime, check out his great website for more details.

After a number of fun shorts, and a horror film shot beautifully in Prague (how is it I still haven’t made it there?)  Ra, Nat, Jane and I did something we’d planned at Ginger’s the night before.  We had a real old-fashioned girlie dress up party in my room – 80’s iTunes played as we drank wine and had tickle fights in our panties (yeah right, Boys – like that’s really what we do when you’re not looking.)  We did dress to the nines and engage in girl talk though before heading back out.  A movie screened on the beach casting a lovely glow on the Croisette.  We returned to Ginger’s for cocktails and dance music followed by a late night return trip to La Pizza where we met an authentic rude French waiter.  And, might I add, I’ve never found any French folks whom have lived up to that whole “rude French” stereotype, but, Man!  Did this guy have a broomstick crammed way up there – another experience checked off the ‘to do’ list.

We returned late and yet the villa was still buzzing with chatter and imbibing.  Ah, home sweet home – at least for another 2 days anyway – sigh.