When I received the invite to be on the Jury of the Cannes Film Festival’s 62nd Semaine de la Critique/Critics’ Week, I felt a delirious rush. The Semaine is an autonomous event within the overall Cannes Film Festival, along with the Quinzaine des Cineastes. Even lovelier: I didn’t know anyone there, not even its Artistic Director Ava Cahen, so either they had been following my work, or it was a third party recommendation, the nicest way possible. It turns out, I was recommended by the wonderful Charles Tesson, professor, mentor and my former editor when I wrote for the Cahiers du Cinema for about 10 years.

I was so honoured and delighted to be invited on the jury. It was my fourth time at Cannes, and the second time on the jury: I had earlier been on the FIPRESCI Jury at Cannes in 2001; covered the festival as a critic in 2004 and as the (now Jio Mami) Mumbai Film Festival’s International Cinema Programmer (2009), and now I was on the Semaine Jury. The jury position came with all sorts of perks. We were invited to the main Cannes Film Festival’s opening night red carpet at the Palais des Festivals, opening film Jeanne du Barry and dinner. So at the ceremony, I was in the same theatre as Michael Douglas (“Doog-lass” the French call him), Ruben Ostlund, many other distinguished jury members, filmmakers, talent and film lovers. I missed the MC’s announcement, made in charming Franglais in previous years: “Ladies and gentlemen, please join your seats.” At the opening night dinner, we were seated just a table away from the ethereal Catherine Deneuve, and being in her presence alone felt like a hallowed privilege.