The Thrill of the First Time

Thursday, May 11

It takes me almost three whole hours to pack all of my (probably inappropriate) Cannes wardrobe into a swank and borrowed garment bag. Of course at JFK Airport in New York, I am the “random 40th person” who is forced to have an additional security check. A very nice man in a gray suit went through my meticulously folded underwear and declared, “You’re safe.” Little does he know. . . .

Friday, May 12

Slept a couple hours on the plane, though the turbulence and Michelle’s loud guffawing behind me [as she watched “Man on the Moon”] made it a bit fitful. Nice looks nice--great weathered facades, odd industrial structures set into rich green landscapes. Cannes is already crazy. One photographer tells me if I lift my arms in a “triumph pose,” I’ll look “a lot thinner.” Thanks for your input, I think to myself, resisting the urge to deck her.

I discover that a camera crew from E! Entertainment will be following me through some of my stay in Cannes. I am not-so-discreetly dreading this aspect of the circus. The director-as-hermit character is looking pretty attractive.

Saturday, May 13

Slept a fairly solid seven hours (though a woman on the street kept screaming “Attend! Attend!” for what felt like an eternity). Long day of intelligent French press, culminating in the press conference during which Faye Dunaway stood in back and gave me a thumbs-up as she wore fabulous amber sunglasses. A truly surreal moment to share with my grandchildren someday. Then I go to the “Girlfight” party on the beach, wearing my first serious pair of expensive heels, and still in shock from a fashion breakdown in my hotel room (where I realized that the glam skirt I had specially picked out as my “outfit” is in fact virtually transparent when back-lit. Not great when I’m up on stage for the Director’s Fortnight screening, which is just hours away).

The party is pretty fun actually, once I finish doing interviews in the sand. When I sit down with my producers and unwind a bit, something becomes dizzyingly apparent. I am at the largest and most famous film festival in the world, moments away from screening my little movie in front of an international crowd. It’s a singularly weird moment when it all finally happens and I’m standing on the Noga Hilton stage with two of my producers [Sarah Green and Martha Griffin]; (Maggie Renzi [the other producer] is traveling in Romania); two of the actors, Michelle and Santiago Douglas; and my editor, Plummy Tucker.

The light on the stage is blinding; the crowd is clapping before the film has even begun; I hope I do not fall down the stairs in my new shoes. The screening goes very well--at least I think it does. I’m told the French audiences are more reserved so when the film gets some big laughs I am quietly, nervously gratified.

At the end of the film, there is loud applause, and it lasts long enough for all of us to stand up from our seats not once, but twice, to awkwardly smile and acknowledge the people giving us an ovation around us. It’s a wild and beautiful moment--if I had more energy I might start crying but I keep it together, a wide, shy grin frozen on my face.

We decide that even past midnight, food is a necessity, and after much wandering down the insanely congested Croisette, we find a ride to the late-night restaurant La Pizza.

We have many laughs--suddenly life feels loose, relaxed, easygoing. One of the executive producers [of “Girlfight”], Jonathan Sehring, and I talk at length about how “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” changed our lives and I think to myself, “I am definitely with my people.” And I’m definitely lucky. I sleep the most blissful five hours of my life.

Sunday, May 14

I’m prepared to feel like utter crap on this day and yet feel weirdly refreshed. Somehow, the grueling publicity schedule is feeling fairly doable to me, and I’m thankful. The international press is extremely positive about the film; clearly, the film has universal themes that I couldn’t have foreseen when making the film: It shocks me how diverse the sampling of people who actually like this film seems to be. Is this real, is it a dream? Though I’ve worked for many years toward this particular moment in my life, I have to say it’s still surprising. I never thought I’d end up here, that’s for sure.

That night, after a lovely meal, a bunch of us go to a ridiculously swank hotel. Though the celebrity scene is a bit daunting, the view of the sea is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and I am so happy to be here.

Monday, May 15

I wake up soured from the red wine at dinner and from too few hours of sleep the night before. Oh well, this place, despite its truly entertaining mix of trash and art, is finally taking a toll on me, and I see that this kind of schedule, no matter how well received your film, is truly punishing in the final stretches. Still, I get to talk to people who really love the movie, and it’s a very discombobulating experience.

I want so much to keep listening to my instincts, staying focused, staying pure. I admit that by this evening, the sound of my own voice is boring me to tears, but that’s what this trip has been about. I’m getting used to hearing myself make up many variations of an answer to address those questions I’ve only heard a hundred times before.

Let’s face it: My life could be way worse, and as I wind down with this final entry, I have to say I’m experiencing an embarrassment of riches. And it’s tasting very, very sweet.

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“Girlfight” will be released this fall in the U.S. by Sony Screen Gems.