Meenakshi Shedde: Unstoppable at Cannes

Illustration/Uday Mohite

I've been to the Cannes Film Festival three or four times. The first time, I was on the FIPRESCI International Critics' Jury at Cannes in 2001, the second time as International Cinema Programmer to the Mumbai Film Festival in 2009, and I returned again to cover the festival as a film critic. The first time was an aborted attempt that still makes me wince. Soon after I'd won the National Award for Best Film Critic, I was invited on the FIPRESCI Jury at the Cannes Film Festival, Berlin Film Festival and Venice Film Festival.

The first time I was to go to Cannes, I was working at a national newspaper. Very few Indian mainstream news media send you to Cannes or other festivals as a critic at company expense; on the contrary, jealous or stingy bosses ensure it feels like a punishment posting. I had not only to raise the resources for air fare and accommodation, I had to apply for personal leave to cover Cannes for the paper, even though I had offered to file 10 stories in 10 days. Despite getting my leave sanctioned three months before the festival dates, my leave was inexplicably cancelled 48 hours before my scheduled departure, with no reasons given. I was so disappointed, as I had told everyone I was on the FIPRESCI Jury at Cannes; besides, what would I tell all my sponsors? Such office skulduggery affects many critics in mainstream media even today. Senior British critic Derek Malcolm, who was also on the jury, wrote to me: "Don't worry, Meenakshi, next time. You have only to come to Cannes once, and you'll be cured forever." It was a comforting if cryptic message, making a visit to Cannes seem like both an affliction and an antidote.

Finally, it was in 2001 that I went on the FIPRESCI Jury at Cannes. This time, I didn't tell a soul, and quietly sneaked to Cannes, to trick fate. Cannes has a caste system of colour-coded delegate cards: mine allowed me to guiltily sail past all the long queues to reserved seats. At one moment, I found Uma Thurman seated right behind me. My favourite films included Michael Haneke's The Pianist, Nanni Moretti's The Son's Room and Mohsen Makhmalbaf's Kandahar; Murali Nair's Pattiyude Divasam (A Dog's Day) was in Un Certain Regard. The jury meetings were a thrilling education - to hear how differently someone from the US or Iran or Korea had viewed the same film. But the jury also brought another shock: we were voting on a Russian film by a famous director who happened to make a mediocre film this time. I was appalled when the Russian on our jury bindaas announced: "It's a shitty film, but I am Russian so I will vote for it." Luckily, that was my first and last brush with fake patriotism on the juries I have been on since.

I wore an elegant, grey shoulder-less gown and high heels for the FIPRESCI Award ceremony, thinking the inventor of high heels was a ripe candidate for strangulation. I was delighted how ecstatic the award made the filmmakers, one in each major category. After the ceremony, I shared issues of Cahiers du Cinema, for whom I've been writing for 10 years. It is thrilling to write for the French intellectual film magazine, made famous by film critics who later became directors of the French New Wave, including Jean-Luc Godard, Francois Truffaut and Eric Rohmer. I'm always impressed by how my articles sound much more intellectual in French: "On n'arrête plus le cinéma indien" somehow sounds like a casual pearl of wisdom, uttered with a shrug and a Gauloise between my fingers, rather than merely saying "Indian cinema is unstoppable." We celebrated by popping champagne after. Even though I returned to Cannes, my first time will always be the most memorable.

Meenakshi Shedde is South Asia Consultant to the Berlin Film Festival, award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist. Reach her at meenakshishedde@gmail.com.