Around this time last year, I was on the Jury of the Cannes Film Festival’s Semaine de la Critique/Critics’ Week, walking the red carpet on Opening Night. It was the crowning glory of my career. All the jury members made an entry together on the red carpet. You are instructed by a minder: “First you look zis side, zhen you go forward and look ze ozer side, zhen you keep moving please.” So our jury sort of preened--fabulous German actor Franz Rogowski, French director Audrey Diwan, Portuguese Director of Photography Rui Poças and myself; with Critics’ Week’s Artistic Director Ava Cahen; jury member Sundance Director of Programming Kim Yutani joined us the next day. We walked up, turned to Side A, when the photographers’ bulbs went into a frenzy. “Sari, sari, look left, please!” went up the cries. A little further, we turned to Side B, and again, it was, “Sari, sari, look right, please!” Every other jury member wore only formal black or white, so I always stood out because of my bright saris.

When I tried to take a picture of our jury on my mobile phone, a burly minder immediately stopped me. No photography please, he said. Such meanies! It’s like not getting a picture of your shaadi—what’s the point if you can’t share The Moment afterwards? Here were a gazillion photographers taking pictures of us, but how would I get a picture of us from them later, without a contact? Somehow, I managed to sneak a picture of our jury at the top of the stairs.