Canadians at Cannes: buyer$ and seller$

TAKE ONE, Sept-Dec, 2003 by Maurie Alioff

THE IMPACT of war, the ongoing threat of terrorist attacks and SARS-reduced attendance on Cannes 2003 was far from catastrophic, but festival regulars noticed it. The crowds shrank a little, the best restaurants in town were easier to get into and on balmy evenings, Living Legends got exposed to less frenzy than usual as they ascended the red-carpeted stairway of the Palais.

This does not mean that the fans passed on the outdoor ceremony that precedes gala screenings on the carpet. "Nicole!" they shouted at the star whose sparkle dazzles everyone from megaplex rats to auteurs like Lars von Trier. Kidman plays the lead in Doqville, the Danish director's hyper-theatrical hate message to America, the film that was supposed to win the Palme d'Or until Denys Arcand's Les Invasions barbares became a serious contender and Gus Van Sant's Elephant emerged as the surprise winner. Beyond the Official Competition, Cannes paid homage to cinema's purest heart with events like a Fellini retrospective and a stunning exhibition of photos highlighting Jean Cocteau's appearances at the festival.

For the Canadians at Cannes, the festival unspooled at a moment that no doubt made it easier to resist the Riviera's many temptations and focus on the work at hand. Back home, the industry had been shaken by a series of upheavals and crises like The Incredible Expanding Loonie that, according to many alarmed players, would stomp all over lucrative foreign production. As for the Canadian Television Fund debacle, some agonized that it pointed toward a future of slow starvation and began wondering if they should, after years of resisting the call of Hollywood, rethink their position. The sense of uncertainty was elevated by loose lips in Ottawa blurting out that the film and television industry has reached such a level of maturity, maybe it could survive without assistance from taxpayers. As Alliance Atlantis Vivafilm's Patrick Roy put it to me in Cannes, "I hope what I'm seeing in the Television Fund won't happen with movies. We're starting to do well with them."

Despite all the items on their worry agenda, the Canadian buyers and sellers I spoke to in Cannes cheerfully went about their business in hotel suites, apartments rented on side streets off the Croisette, restaurants facing the Old Port and the Canada Pavilion. On second thought, maybe they didn't resist all those temptations. Or maybe Canada's high-profile at the festival, the support system offered by Telefilm and a confidence in their own know-how gave them lift and momentum. After all, Canadians have been playing the Cannes game since 1946 and are skilled at navigating the humongous event that draws thousands of participants, all of them living their own version of it.

For Yves Dion, vice-president of distribution at Equinoxe Films, Cannes was mostly about the No. 1 item on his company's slate, Emile Gaudreault's Mambo Italiano. After selling well at the American Film Market and then being guaranteed U.S. distribution by the Samuel Goldwyn Company, the picture opened in Quebec on 100 screens, earning over $2 million between its June release and late July. Dion told me Equinoxe was eagerly anticipating the Canada-wide and American launches of Mambo, following a gala presentation at the Toronto International Film Festival. Test screenings have indicated that the movie will play well, and Goldwyn president Meyer Gottlieb believes in the picture's good-natured comedy. When I met Dion in Equinoxe's airy office, he said that sales of the film were up to about 22 countries, counting the business he and associate Lina Marrone had done in Cannes. Mambo's budget was covered and the market still had a few days to go. "We'll probably sell the rest of the world in Toronto," he forecast, offering me a Mambo T-shirt.

The enthusiastic vice-president, once the right-hand man of legendary Quebec producer and distributor Rene Malo, joined Equinoxe just before the company skyrocketed into distribution heaven with the Canadian release of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Despite this phenomenal success, the firm, which derives from Canada's oldest distribution company, France Films, has relatively modest goals. "We don't want to release 40 pictures a year," Dion explained. "We will acquire about 10 that we fall in love with and give them a good distribution pattern." For the moment, Equinoxe is smitten by comedies and its upcoming releases include Martin Short's Jiminy Glick movie, La La Wood.

Mambo Italiano, the first English-language film made under Telefilm Canada's new audience-driven policy, exemplifies the kind of serious prints and advertising commitment the funding agency is asking distributors to make. Dion, like many of his colleagues, has faith in the new paradigm Richard Stursberg is promoting. "I'm not saying Canadian films were boring, but we made a lot that made nothing at the box office. I think we'll have a better balance between commercial films and art films." Dion has one recommendation: money that's cut from any particular fund as a result of poor performance should be "transferred into the marketing fund because this is what we need, big time. If Telefilm wants to increase the box office on Canadian films, we agree. But if you don't have marketing money, it's very hard."