Yukon filmmaker living the good life in Cannes
That is a picture of the red carpet area at the Cannes Film Festival, taken by Yukon filmmaker Moira Sauer. Moira's film The Provider was accepted at this year's festival, so she pulled out all the stops and decided to attend. We asked her to file a couple of dispatches from the event, what follows is her first missive.
"The apparel oft proclaims the man." William Shakespeare.
Let's be honest.
For those of us living in the Yukon who are single women, the pickin's are slim. This is in no way a disparagement of single Yukon men, rather a comment on the long observed fact that there are far fewer of them than there are of us. Needless to say, I found myself completely overwhelmed and unprepared arriving at Festival de Cannes.
Picture this: crashing waves of the Ligurian Sea, cobblestone walkways as far as the eye can see, the token French musician sitting on the corner pumping away on his accordion and a sea of tuxedoed men!
Last night I found myself seated at an outside table with four other Canadian filmmakers (all from Quebec) and two Brits, and I thought to myself, "Well, if nothing else comes of Cannes, I will have this moment to live in my memory forever."
I was the ONLY female.
Not only that, but the crowd from the bar spilling out for half a block all around us (post red-carpet screening) was primarily male and dressed to kill. I was in the heart of it - the narrow streets of this old French town on the Riviera, beautiful buildings and their massive windows with shutters and intricate décor looming above us, the street lights illuminating it all.
As I made my way home through those streets at some ridiculous hour, I passed more groups of men either gathered drinking at different watering holes, or themselves wandering aimlessly as the night wound its way to morning. Again all of them dressed-to-the-nines.
This got me thinking.
How marvelous to be in a place for an extended period of time, where everyone dresses because it matters (I have 10 borrowed dresses for this trip thanks to my incredible girlfriends). Seeing men dressed so beautifully, so classically, so stylishly had some kind of physical effect on me. It made me gleeful. It brought me a whole bunch of joy. I would venture to say that I was giddy.
Was I overreacting?
I spoke with some women in town today; women from places where the male/female ratio has not the same discrepancy as the Yukon and where 'formal' doesn't mean clean jeans. They nodded enthusiastically and agreed that this place was something else. It has something different. It is separate from the glitz and the glamour of the red carpet, of which there is an abundance of, day after day, night after night. Rather, there is a magic of being somewhere that embraces a putting-together of oneself for the public. For the general populace, right across town. And what a difference it makes to wander through streets and see men in their finery. It does not need to be expensive, it just needs to be thoughtful.
And so the truth is, my time thus far at Cannes has been spent watching the beautifully dressed men in town, rather than the movies and the mega stars. Of course, there's still almost an entire week left, so who knows what will happen.