Gossip Is Content, Too

A couple of things happen to me when the Cannes Film Festival rolls around and I’m not attending that year. The first is I feel myself flushing pink with the sense memory of too much cheap rosé consumed, both in wine and champagne form. I get a flash hangover, too, and become groggy for the two-week duration of the Festival whenever I read the relentless updates streaming from industry press.

I’ve chronicled some of my adventures there before, and the upshot is I’m really more of a Berlinale type than a Cannes fan.