Madness.
Everyone has gone completely mad.
Two days in a row, 15 hours of nonstop work. Even Alex and Eric, two rookies who had never faced the media before, had grown into seasoned pros. The constant bombardment of time, frequency, and intensity was enough to make one file a lawsuit for "child labor abuse."
In over 30 hours, they faced countless reporters and answered an unimaginable number of questions.
Yet!
The most shocking part? This still wasn't the end.
Unbelievably, more media outlets were still requesting interviews with the "Elephant" crew. Gus and Anson were stunned—
What? More?
Gus looked utterly confused, "I thought we'd already cycled through every media outlet in Cannes."
But Anson rejected all of them.
Anson didn't care if they offended the media or affected the film's promotion.
"We're like beasts trapped in a cage, forced to answer questions. Look at the sunshine outside, look at the audience out there. We're in Cannes. We shouldn't be stuck in a hotel getting grilled. I desperately need sunlight. God, I think my skin's gotten two shades lighter."
Straightforward—
Everyone burst into laughter.
Anson was still Anson. Even in moments when he offended people, he managed to keep things light and filled with humor.
Surprisingly, this sort of thing was usually handled by agents or PR people, to protect the artist's image. But not Anson. He personally spoke with the reporters waiting in the hotel hallway, asking for interviews the next day, and kept the atmosphere pleasant.
"Hey, here's the deal."
"We've answered a million and one questions, and by the end, I even hated my own answers—repetitive, boring, and lifeless. Honestly, even computer-generated responses would be more interesting. But, to be fair, the questions aren't exactly original either. Some have been asked 333 times."
"So."
"If you have any fresh questions, please write them up and send them over. We'll respond. Honestly, I'm hoping for some new questions. I want you to dig deeper into the possibilities of this film. But if not, let's just spare each other, okay?"
Ha! Haha!
Everyone was in stitches.
Even witnessing this firsthand, Eve was still amazed. Since when did reporters become so agreeable?
But that was Anson. He always had a way of making things different.
So, Ivan?
Wait, what about Ivan?
At this point, who even remembered the little spat between Ivan and Anson? By the time anyone realized, the crew of Young Adam had quietly left Cannes—
Without causing a stir.
Elephant was the real focus.
One day passed, and that was the case. Two days passed, and it was still the case.
So, what about the third day?
Over the past 48 hours, four more films had been screened in the Cannes Film Festival's main competition, and if you count other categories, even more. The film festival was slowly reaching its peak. Yet, when Emmanuel arrived at the Palais des Festivals with coffee, Elephant was still the center of attention.
"I don't like it. No matter how long you talk, I just don't like it."
"I'm not asking you to like it. You can hate Elephant, even loathe it, but you need to acknowledge its existence, just like you would acknowledge the existence of bullying in schools."
"I think it's manipulative. We've always been aware of these issues; we don't need Gus Van Sant reminding us. He's exploiting a loophole, and you people are just running wild with it, blowing things out of proportion. That's why I don't like it. It feels like a cheap trick."
"But—"
"Hey, I haven't even started criticizing Anson yet."
"What's wrong with Anson?"
"Gus using Anson is nothing but a publicity stunt. It's all so calculated."
"Bullshit. You're rewriting history. You can't ignore the fact that when Gus cast Anson, he was taking a huge risk and facing a lot of pressure. You're just letting your dislike cloud your judgment because of how influential Anson is now. You're backtracking and assuming Gus had ulterior motives. You're being influenced by your own bias."
One wave after another.
And once the topic started, others around them joined in the discussion. It easily became an icebreaker for the crowd.
After all, in Cannes, waiting in line to watch a movie was part of the daily routine. People needed something to pass the time, to make the wait a bit more fun.
It wasn't an unfamiliar scene, but Emmanuel still found it amusing. She couldn't remember the last time a film had stirred up so much conversation. Even just observing was entertaining.
This was Cannes, after all.
Today, another potential hit from the main competition, Dogville, was about to premiere.
Directed by Lars von Trier and starring Nicole Kidman, the film had already attracted massive attention when it was selected for the main competition. After arriving in Cannes, rumors from a market screening had spread, claiming that the film enraged the audience, with people storming out and swearing.
Bear in mind, this was a market screening. The attendees were all distributors, seasoned professionals who had seen it all. For them to lose their temper like that?
Lars von Trier had always been a controversial director. Every one of his films sparked debates, and he never shied away from provocation. His shocking statements appeared regularly, becoming almost routine.
Three years ago, his film Dancer in the Dark won the Palme d'Or, which was still considered a bold choice to this day.
So, when Dogville arrived in Cannes, people had already prepared themselves mentally for what was to come. Yet, the chaos at the market screening still caught them off guard.
In an instant, anticipation soared. This was the most excitement Cannes had seen since Elephant premiered, and perhaps a new hit was about to be born.
By early morning, the area in front of the Palais des Festivals was already packed with people.
"…Excuse me, is this the line for the media?"
"No, this is the security check for the red carpet. Are you trying to get into the screening for Dogville? See that line wrapping around the Palais? That's the entry line, my friend. The media is going crazy today—the line has looped around three times. Good luck."
"Thanks. Have a great day!"
A simple conversation from behind drifted into Emmanuel's ears, and she vaguely recognized the raspy voice.
She turned her head.
"That must be a rookie. First day in Cannes, and he runs into Lars von Trier. I bet he's going to have a hard time getting in. Wonder if he'll make it."
"Good luck to him. But don't you think that face looks kind of familiar?"
"Face? You've got time to check out faces in this chaos?"
Emmanuel had a sudden flash of inspiration. She focused on the figure's back, taking in the shoulders, the waist, the long legs—so familiar!
And then, it hit her like a thunderbolt—
Was that… was that Anson? Wait, could that really be Anson?