Naked CITY

John Paul Chapple

Independent producer

Three times every year - like so many flocks of homing pigeons - thousands of film and television executives, producers, journalists and their attendant support staff, wives and mistresses switch on their auto-pilots and head for this unremarkable little town in the south of France. 'How I hate it,' they say. 'How happy I would be if I never had to come here again'. But you, and they, know they'll be back. Again and again.

The reason they'll be back is because they are all committed devotees. These thrice yearly festivals - MIPTV, MIPCOM and the big one, THE Festival - are among the world's most ostentatious celebrations to the god Mammon. Here, greed is seen in its most basic and unashamed forms. From the extortionate restaurant and hotel prices to the pervasive pickpockets and room thieves. From the ever more lavish parties and premieres to the hysteria and pampering that surrounds the demi-god movie stars. You can get anything you want in Cannes during the film festival, as long as you can pay for it.

And, of course, there's the concomitant sinning that goes along with it. Who is there among the devotees who doesn't have a private memory they look back on with quiet satisfaction, cringing shame or even perhaps a hidden tear? Ultimately, the only way to enjoy Cannes is to accept it for what it is and sit - or lie - back and enjoy.