Tom Redkidd reports from the 65th annual Cannes Film Festival for the European premiere of Chelsea’s own Dennis Da Silva’s stylish, paranormal film noir, SONUS (ArtHertz/Ridley Scott Assc.)

just returned from the 65th annual Cannes Film Festival. QX movie-goers might like Paperboy, an erotic tale of murder and sex set in the sultry and very sweaty 60s. There’s something for everyone on this swampy ride: murderer John Cusak doing hard time, gay reporter Matthew McConaughey getting a hard time, shirtless Zak Efron giving us a hard time and desperate housewife Nicole Kidman showing Zak a medicinal use for water sports: Bree Daniels could learn a few things from this redhead! No doubt openly gay director Lee Daniels wants Paperboy to shatter a few windows, if not the box office. I prefer to watch Zak’s facial at home with rewind and slow mo’.

Despite the noticeable lack of any quality gay-themed films, a crop of gay directors stood out, notably, Brazilian director Elias Ribeiro’s documentary Jeppa On A Friday. Watch for his upcoming Fatherhood, a comedy series about a gay man who decides to become a dad. Politics and sexual equality clash in LA in his next feature, Pink and Green. Un Certain Regard tipped its beret to Canadian Xavier Dolan for Laurence Anyway a mid-adult love story.

SONUS, by Chelsea’s own Dennis Da Silva ArtHertz/Ridley Scott Assc. wowed ‘em at the Arts Video Intern’l Film Festival (AVIFF.)


Da Silva sticks out among the new breed of LGBT auteurs no longer limited to the queer oeuvre, now making bold, edgy explorations establishing themselves as power players carving out niches of their own.

ArtHertz is a multi-media collaborative effort of artists, writers, musicians and filmmakers seeking to expand every genre,” said Da Silva as we wound our way up the cobbled streets of Carre D’Or in the Old Cannes district to Le Jardin du Secret for an AVIFF private screening. “We need to push boundaries and create new ones.”

Indeed! is red-hot right now with films, exhibitions, Bletchley Park’s month-long centenary celebration this September and Dennis himself will DJ World Pride on 5th July.

Once inside Le Jardin, I realised the AVIFF is the REAL find at Cannes. Attended by Brad and Angelina last year, AVIFF is the quiet pride amidst all the hype.

Joined by milliner-to-the-stars Mich Dulce, we celebrated at local gay bar Charley’s before traipsing downhill to the post-film beach party, navigating the red carpet through what Truman Capote once quipped, “yachts and things” among those who had come from AMFAR’s annual event hosted by Kylie and Adam Baldwin.

A power nap later, we made our way to David Lynch’s uber-cool rooftop shindig “Silencio” atop the Hotel V, a slick affair designed in the style of his Paris niteclub. Human League swooned an eclectic mix of money, movie-makers, hustlers and starlets. Most were just people who love movies—how refreshing! We danced, laughed and yakked about film ‘til our guide Orlando dragged us off to an endless queue at beach club VIP where a charming Frenchman in a tux taught me how to piss properly in a palm bush and still look classy (merci, monsieur!)

Sniffed out an after-hours bar and met Jonny Peters director of The Dream Channel, full of triumphant post-Cannes love who put us in the capable hands of humpy French builder Michel. He blagged us into Le Sept an after-after hours speakeasy filled with characters who would shove a shiv up Mr. Lynch’s Twin Peaks and make him shit his Armani.

Coco, a Divine-esque trannie held court over a crowd of knife-wielding hookers, ageing French movie stars, German pirates and scruffy goateed Gallic bouncers—now THIS is my kinda film party!

Cannes wrapped up nicely with a post-party lunch at Le Domino, a reasonably priced, gay-friendly bistro in the Le Suquet district around the corner from Charley’s run by a gregariously formidable lesbian.

The long bus ride to the Nice airport snapped me back to reality when a French Vicky Pollard tried to board without paying for her foetal-alcohol-syndrome child forcing the driver to stop the bus ‘til another Vicky dutifully confronted “le ku” and tossed her and her bastard off!  Amen sister, next time I go to Cannes, I’m taking you with me!


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