I see tall people. I must still be in Holland. Yes, I see some cheese and a canal, and a bicycle, so Holland it is then.
As it turns out, I am not yet in Cannes, having been waylaid by a weekend break in the Dam. Other people are in Cannes though. I know because I have seen their lunch on Facebook and Instagram, a Salad Nicoise shot with a carefully placed bottle of rose.
Holland is a marvellous place, full of incredibly tall and friendly people, seemingly unconcerned about their inexplicable ability to field even a remotely competitive basketball team. Of source they did field a pretty good football team a few days ago and they were jolly happy about that. I’ve never seen a whole city drunk before, all these tall blonde people tottering around resplendent in Orange rolling their vowels with extra delight.
In Cannes, as in the World Cup, the Brazilians expect to win. And they will, although the real hero of Cannes this year is likely to be a Belgian. Mr Jean Claude Van Damme will perform an Epic Split that spans all categories before reaching down and plucking up the film Grand Prix at the end of the week.
The Volvo Trucks piece is already coming up in the Direct and Promo Shortlists, as are all the other usual suspects : The sound of Honda from Dentsu, Sweetie – the astonishing Dutch piece designed to trap online porn offenders and the Harvey Nichols “Sorry, I spent it on myself” campaign to name a few. I know this because I saw it online yesterday while I was walking around Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum, clocking three hundred years worth of gloomy looking men in ruffled collars and multiple flat and well-windmilled landscapes bathed in the famous “Dutch light”.
By the way, Belgium, Mr Van Dammes home country, are a good to moderate outside bet for the World Cup. Although Belgium winning the World Cup would be a bit like an agency from Swaziland winning the Film Grand Prix.
I missed David Hasselhoff yesterday who took the stage in the first seminar to talk about, well, David Hasselhof I suppose. I wonder what it’s like being a live meme? Never mind, I can ask Jean Claude Van Damme, who is sure to come on stage and do the splits on the heads of two attractive promo girls while he accepts the film Grand Prix for the people at Forsman Bodenfors, who by then will be in a rose induced catatonic stupor after winning everything all week.
The South African work is still a light sprinkle as far as Shortlists are concerned. Expect that to change today as a whole bunch of Shortlists come striding confidently in their Velskoens into the Palais.
The weather in Cannes is not playing ball at all. This will not make a difference to the many, many people who decide to give most of the festival a miss and watch the World Cup in Morrison’s. It will bother the people who have decided to give most of the festival a miss and spend their time on the beach though. It may mean actually going to seminars and looking at some work, although. As we know, most ECD’s know pretty much everything anyway.
The weather looks to be grubby all week, unless a magnanimous Russian billionaire decides to usher the clouds away with a squadron of well-placed helicopters. I am now on a KLM flight which will be slicing across France and depositing me in Nice. From there it’s a short bus ride to Cannes, unless I decide to take a helicopter, although they might be busy chasing away the clouds from Roman Abromovitch’s yacht. Also – a chit for a helicopter shuttle might upset the chaps with sharp pencils who refer to people as “resource” and are even now finding evil ways to dent our awards budgets.
So a bus it will be, and then on to my inexpensive and spartan apartment (take note sharp pencil men) where I will dine on fig LU biscuits and get this post up on the interwebs before my CEO can say “he’s supposed to be in Cannes, what the bloody hell is he doing in Amsterdam?!?”.