"Hey, Anson, you're still here?"
Carl couldn't believe his eyes. It was the final day of Cannes, and with no new films premiering—only the closing ceremony and awards show remaining—he was shocked to see Anson still around.
Over the past few days, Cannes had grown accustomed to Anson's presence, but the key detail was that everyone assumed Anson had already left. After all—
Not just anyone could attend the awards ceremony.
As mentioned before, the three major European film festivals are often extremely busy, with a film crew usually staying for no more than two or three days. After their promotional duties, they leave—this applies to both Berlin and Venice as well.
If a crew chooses to stay longer for personal enjoyment, can they?
Of course. Aside from the frigid February of Berlin, May in Cannes and September in Venice are great times to vacation. The crew can certainly linger.
But staying is a personal decision and has no official connection to the festival, much like in Anson's case.
When the festival ends and the closing ceremony and awards show are about to begin, the juries gather at the festival's official accommodations, like a hotel or villa, to deliberate and decide on the awards. The film crews whose films are on the award list are summoned back to the festival to attend the ceremony and receive their prizes.
Because of this, the last day of the festival sees the airport bustling with activity. Reporters swarm the airport, eagerly watching to see who has been called back—
If a crew is called back, it usually means they've won an award. This happens 90% of the time, though occasionally, a crew might be summoned only to leave empty-handed, which can be a bit awkward.
Generally speaking, the major competition sections at the three big European festivals hand out seven awards in total:
The top three prizes: Palme d'Or (Cannes), Golden Bear (Berlin), and Golden Lion (Venice), followed by the Grand Jury Prize and Jury Prize.
Then come the awards for Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, and Best Screenplay.
The specific details may vary slightly from year to year, but the overall structure remains the same.
At the same time, these festivals try to avoid a "double winner" situation (where one award is shared by two people) or one film sweeping multiple awards. Though it does happen from time to time, it's generally rare, and each year, only seven film crews are typically called back, with each one receiving a distinct award.
So, on the last day of any of these festivals, once the seven crews are recalled, the media begins a flurry of speculation and discussion about which film will win which award.
Among these, one film will claim the top prize, basking in all the glory and accolades.
This debate lasts the entire day.
Now, imagine if you were called back, endured an entire day of speculation and hope, only to leave without a prize?
Or worse, if you weren't called back at all, staying in town while listening to all the discussions about awards that no longer concern you?
What kind of feeling would that be?
As a result, most crews, if not called back, leave on the final day rather than endure the agony of hanging around. Whether it's a crew that premiered their film the day before last or someone like Anson, who's just been enjoying the festival as a "freelancer," they all tend to leave.
But not Anson.
No wonder people reacted as if they'd seen a ghost when they saw him.
Not only had Anson stayed, but he was also casually walking down the street. Carl wasn't the only one filled with questions; everyone was just about ready to pop their eyes out of their heads.
Carl's mind raced. "Wait, did you get called back?"
Aha.
That one question was enough to draw all eyes toward them.
By now, everyone had gotten used to Anson's status as a film enthusiast, forgetting that Anson was also in the cast of Elephant, one of the films in the main competition.
Anson chuckled. "If we had been called back, we wouldn't be hanging out in a café right now; we'd be getting dressed and ready in some secret location, right?"
His response was candid, sincere, and logical.
The group gave a collective "aha" and nodded in agreement.
But someone couldn't help but express their regret. "I actually wish you were called back. I think Elephant deserves recognition."
Boom.
That comment set off a wave of discussion.
In an instant, the group erupted in chatter, first debating whether Elephant deserved an award, and then shifting to who might win the Palme d'Or.
It was a classic Cannes moment, with everyone holding strong opinions and fiercely defending them.
"Anson, what do you think?"
Shh.
That one simple question instantly silenced the noisy café, leaving only the hum of the coffee machine, which now seemed unusually loud.
Everyone's gaze locked onto Anson, each person staring at him like they were about to devour him whole, the air thick with tension.
Anson raised his right hand slightly. "Relax. I'm not the jury president. I don't get to decide this, so you don't have to look at me like I'm your next meal."
Unfortunately, no one laughed, but the tension did ease a bit.
Someone quickly followed up, "Okay, but what's your opinion? Which film do you think deserves the Palme d'Or?"
This time, Anson didn't avoid the question. "Including Elephant or not?"
"No way, Anson! I didn't think you'd pick your own film! Are you really going to choose the movie you were in?"
Anson replied confidently, "Why not?"
Uh... well...
His frankness stunned the group into silence.
Anson didn't feel embarrassed or hesitant at all. Just because he acted in one of the competing films didn't mean he had to avoid showing favoritism. As he'd just said:
He wasn't part of the jury, so his choice wouldn't sway the final outcome, meaning he could freely express his own preference.
As an actor, you don't always love the films you're in. Sometimes, actors even hate their own projects. But other times, regardless of involvement, liking something is simply about taste.
In the case of Elephant, Anson genuinely liked it. It wasn't about promotion or PR—he just truly appreciated Gus Van Sant's work.
So, he had no reason to feel guilty.
Looking back at the expectant crowd, Anson continued, "Personally, I'd give the Palme d'Or to Elephant. But if we're excluding it, I'd choose Distant."
He didn't hold back any longer, giving his honest opinion.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
The group snapped out of their daze and began whispering and debating among themselves, the noise of their chatter filling the café like a swarm of bees.
Someone immediately asked Anson, "Distant, the one by Ceylan? But why?"
"Literary merit," Anson answered directly. "It's not just about the script's literary quality; it's also about the way the camera frames shots and how the long takes convey a literary sensibility. I think Ceylan's exploring the effect of life's environment on intellectuals. This film is still a bit raw—you can see he's still finding his voice—but I believe he already shows the qualities of a master filmmaker."
"So, you just don't like Dogville, right?"
Anson nodded. "Right."
His answer was so blunt that everyone burst into laughter.