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What If Meryl Streep and Juliette Binoche Held Each Other and Wept in France?
“You make me want to love again. To feel the need. To lose control. To become obsessed.”
Perhaps the respective governments in question fear these women’s combined actorly energies would be far too powerful for the everyday cinemagoer, blown back as he might be in his hypothetical seat, radicalized and subsequently refusing to go to work, eventually dismantling the decaying infrastructure that barely hoists up the western world. (This was after — and I cannot stress this enough — a French pop star named Zaho de Sagazan sashayed across the Palais and personally serenaded jury president Greta Gerwig with David Bowie’s “Modern Love” in tribute to her, and before we all watched the opening-night film, Quentin Dupieux’s The Second Act, in which the interminably rich vein of “cancel culture” is “skewered” in a “movie” about the “artifice of filmmaking” that uses various narrative devices like breaking the fourth wall to vaguely gesture at fears about AI and political correctness destroying the industry and ends with a several-minute tracking shot of the dolly that was used to film said tracking shot.) Meryl then turned to the audience and thanked the festival (which she last attended 35 years ago, and where she won Best Actress for Evil Angels) and her agent and her makeup and hairstylist, then proceeded to debate the correct pronunciation of Cannes.
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