(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
It is blowing heavily in Rue d'Antibes. Along the street, huge banners hang with pictures of actors and directors. In a fierce gust of wind, Marion Cotillard in flash-lit full figure tries to tear herself loose from her tight cords high above my head. I stop and look at the beautiful face; Suffice to think I'll take her home with me if she succeeds. But the wind calms down, and she falls back into the procession with the other stars showing the way I run towards the heart of the Cannes Festival.
After 11 years at the festival I can blind this way. Eventually I also hear the music from the speakers, and soon I see the paths of people at every step – they've been waiting for hours already. I push myself through the crowd; against the other stiff people in the queues at the entrances, past all those with handwritten posters asking if anyone has an extra ticket, the elderly lady passes with the pictures of Isabelle Huppert ready for autograph.
Watching movies in Cannes is something very special. Watching a movie from your home country, magic is in line with sitting in the stands when we take the World Cup gold in handball.
Well sooner I remove the accreditation from my chest pocket, and at the same time I lose the invitation on the sidewalk. As I bend down to pick it up, the music shifts to something I recognize as Bernard Herrmann. And with that, I feel the goose skin crawl up my arms, my heart beating a little faster. I smile to myself, straighten the black ribbon and soak in the mood in deep drag as I walk the last steps towards the red carpet over all the red runners – for the first time in 36 years posted on the occasion of a Norwegian movie.
Watching movies in Cannes is something very special. Watching a movie from your home country, magic is in line with sitting in the stands when we take the World Cup gold in handball. Joachim Trier's participation with Louder Than Bombs This year's competition program is not only an achievement in itself, but must also be attributed to an industry that, over the past 12-15 years, has undergone a major development and has been shown a growing interest from outside. Experiencing Trier standing in the middle of the applauding public sea after the gala show ended, is thus an appropriate conclusion to a special chapter in the story of the Norwegian film. Now is the time to start work on the next – but which way does the story take?
Still better. Norwegian film has badly missed locomotives according to what the Danes have in Lars von Trier, Susanne Bier and Nicolas Winding Refn. These three directors are met with international interest at the same second as a new film is presented, which maintains the Danish film's place on the world map, and which also gives the Danish film industry a clearer focus on the outside world. The position of Danish film has created the foundation for a self-confidence that has had its mark on both production and launch – a self we only feel exceptionally. Although we have seen a positive development in recent years with more and more frequent representation at the globe's more important film festivals, the absence of top positions has still kept us a little too good in the reins in everything from script process and cutting room to launch. Our films are getting better and better, but they often end up as moderately interesting in the face of their competitors "out there". International press has therefore only exceptionally focused the spotlight on Norwegian film; our domestic film institute has often come under the shadow of its neighbors when filming profiles, and as an industry we have always felt like passengers in the back seat.
Of course, this does not change overnight with Joachim Trier at the red carpet in Cannes, but in the context of, among others, Morten Tyldum's Oscar nomination for best director, Torill Kove's third nomination for best animated short film, Eskil Vogt's screenplay award in Sundance last year: Norwegian movie is in a better position than ever before. Self-confidence should therefore be greater than for a long time – at least international attention has never been. And although none of the aforementioned filmmakers have the status of a locomotive yet, it is obvious that the potential for establishing careers with international impact and domestic influence is presently there. Visions and concrete measures should therefore come from Minister of Culture Thorild Widvey and the Government, who both take care of and further develop this. For no one is profited by this positive trend stagnating.
Provocative passivity. Believe that Widvey thank goodness saw the value of being present when Louder Than Bombs Cannes entered last week, however, there is little indication that the measures will come. Rather, it is a provocative passivity that characterizes the Government's statements when the theme is film and the future of Norwegian film – a poignant signal of how easily our politicians take this. The content of the announced movie message is still unknown, but it is difficult to hope for visions that will strengthen the industry's potential to exploit the position we have finally reached. Many found it symptomatic when Widvey arrived late for the reception of Louder Than Bombs in Cannes – but first and foremost it was sad. Admittedly, the minister was stuck in the traffic chaos everyone who has driven a car on the Riviera knows, but seen from the eyes of the film industry, it was nevertheless a far too good picture of the precarious and disinterested attitude she and the Government have so far accommodated the industry.
Many people found it symptomatic when Widvey arrived late for the reception Louder Than Bombs in Cannes – but first and foremost it was sad.
Participation in Cannes should mark the transition to a new chapter, where experiences and booster we have gained from attending the world's most prestigious festival giving us further power and momentum. Instead, there is a nervous and not particularly optimistic Norwegian film environment looking forward. Then some might say that one exaggerates the value of attending Cannes – yes, some might also say that film itself is not important anyway. But no one says the same thing when Petter Northug and Therese Johaug win the Olympic gold, or to take it even further – nobody said the same thing when May-Britt and Edvard Moser were awarded the Nobel Prize in medicine earlier this year. Then we talk instead about the value of recruiting to the profession, of profiling Norway, and of increased interest from investors. When should the film be accommodated with the same setting?
In the Cannes festival's homeland, film is a key part of both national and international identity building. When Jacques Audiards Dheepan winner Gold Palm and Vincent Lindon and Emmanuelle Bercot (shared with Rooney Mara) both win the trophies, it is considered a national triumph, and a result of an industry that is constantly working to be leading. In terms of wording and angling it is thus reminiscent of how our own press mentions sports achievements. When should we Norwegians begin to regard the film as equally important?
Smidesang Slåen is a film critic in Ny Tid.
eirikss@gmail.com
