On the Croisette... Brigitte Bardot
Welcome back to the Clip Joint, our weekly roundup of top film clips on the internet.
This week it's all about Cannes. Yes, it's time once again for that inconspicuous little Mediterranean gathering, in which cinema's most retiring artists bashfully consent to give the world a little look at what they've been up to in the intervening few years. And what d'ya know? The festival's 60 this year. While the Guardian's crack paratroopers are currently drifting on their parachutes down towards the Croisette and their specially marked deckchairs, some of us - the infirm, the addled, the wastrels - have been left behind to man the fort Dad's Army-style. It's better back here, honest.
1) Brigitte Bardot sets the bar early for starlet limelight-milking at the festival, in 1957. (Some footage of her third marriage, to Gunter Sachs, follows straight afterwards.) Juliette Binoche does her best to keep pace in 1983.
2) Your Hsiao-hsien Hous and your Atom Egoyans come and go. One serial offender at Cannes every single year is US trash peddler Troma, whose annual parade you're bound to get tangled in on the Croisette at some point.
3) But no matter who's hawking their wares, Cannes always stays kinda the same, as this excellent 1959 documentary (in five parts on YouTube) shows. Orson Welles tries to hold back the cynicism, along with his waistline, as he lunches with studio tycoon Darryl F Zanuck.
4) The gallery of partied-out, retina-fried critics are notoriously fickle, and wheeling out your film is probably a nerve-wracking experience. John Cameron Mitchell, at last year's festival, seemed to have a good time of it with his porno-drama Shortbus - as documented cellphone-style by his brother, Christopher.
5) Ah, Cannes! The only place in the world where Ali G seems strangely superfluous (at the porn festival, at least).
Thanks for suggesting your food clips from last week's clip joint. Here are your favourites. Bon appetit.
1) Anthony Hopkins makes a human Humpty-Dumpty out of Ray Liotta in Hannibal. I'm still holding back the chunks as I type this.
2) In the days when he didn't resemble an out-of-work Sly Stallone impersonator, Mickey Rourke looked like he gave good fridge. Worked for Kim Basinger, anyhow, in 9 ½ Weeks.
3) Let's hope breakfast with James Cagney (at 2min 37), in 1931's The Public Enemy, doesn't set the tone for the rest of Mae Clarke's day.
4) More eggs, more Mickey Rourke, more heavy-handed food metaphysics in Alan Parker's Angel Heart.
5) Lasse Hallstrom lays it on thickly in Chocolat: confectionary, picturesque French villages, Johnny Depp (with throwback ponytail!). Yum, yum, yum!
