Introversion, the red carpet, and Swedish tacos
Welp, I survived Cannes. It was simultaneously awful and terrific. Am I allowed to admit that here?
The thing is, I'm an introvert. I find it exhausting to talk to people all day long. And when I'm supposed to be talking about MYSELF? PITCHING MY PROJECT? ALL DAY LONG? Just find me a big ol rock to hide under. Just let me go home, I found myself fantasizing as we tromped along La Croisette.
But I got the hang of it. By day six we were hanging out poolside at an impromptu cocktail party, thrown by some very cool, very down-to-earth people who just happen to make movies. That's when I remembered, Oh, yeah. I like movies. I can talk about movies. The trick is to find people I enjoy talking to.
Our film was not in competition, which means there was no official screening. But we held a private screening at the Short Film Corner that went very well, and this morning we got an offer from an international film distributor. I'll keep you posted....
Overall, the festival was very good to us.
We even managed to finagle tickets to a red carpet screening, which was surreal, though a little less glamorous than I'd imagined. They basically kept us (the balcony ticket holders) in a cattle pen until all the swanky people had done their turn in front of the photographers, then rushed us in from the side and up the steps as the lights were going down in the theater. One of the tuxedoed security thugs did find a moment to chastise Ricky, pointing at the beautiful brown leather oxfords we'd sourced at a vintage store in London.
"Your shoes," he told Ricky, "are not good."
Women are required to wear heels on the red carpet and, apparently, men are required to wear black shoes. But the thug let him by with a warning.
We'll buy Ricky black shoes for next year, I guess?
*****
And now, back to 😎🚫💊 . I've got 58 pages, and 52 of them don't suck.
I'd like to say we'll have a finished draft by July 1—there are people who want to read the thing!—but I'll be realistic and aim for a page a day. A page a day I can do. A page a day will get us very close.
*****
This month in shoe-shopping: Don't judge....... But I bought a $29 pair of plastic Birkenstocks, and they served me well for all of our tromping around. The monotone black sole + strap actually make them feel more elegant than the traditional cork-soled Birks, provided you're willing to ignore the farting noises they make when air gets trapped beneath your feet.
This month in confectionary: When the festival was over we spent a few days in Basque Country, hanging out with Ricky's cousin who helps run this magical place. To say that Gary pressed a lot of sweets on us would be an understatement. The Xaxu, which is gluten-free, sort of a Basque answer to the macaron, was KILLER when consumed with a sliver of aged sheep's cheese.
This month in tacos: On to Stockholm. I had the best fish taco of my life at B.A.R. Simple corn tortilla. A dab of delicious, lemony guac. And the fish! The fish (the sea bass, to be precise) was fresh and delicate and perfectly grilled. No need for breading or slaw or weird white sauce 🐠✨
This month in the tiny house/garden: The peppers died and squirrels ransacked the succulents, but our cacti are thriving. We could go away for six months and they wouldn't even notice.
*****
xoxo,
Laramie
p.s. If you know a writer or a film buff or a taco head or anyone who might appreciate this newsletter, please forward it! As you may have noticed, I've decided not to make the archive available online. Feels more sneaky/special this way.
The thing is, I'm an introvert. I find it exhausting to talk to people all day long. And when I'm supposed to be talking about MYSELF? PITCHING MY PROJECT? ALL DAY LONG? Just find me a big ol rock to hide under. Just let me go home, I found myself fantasizing as we tromped along La Croisette.
But I got the hang of it. By day six we were hanging out poolside at an impromptu cocktail party, thrown by some very cool, very down-to-earth people who just happen to make movies. That's when I remembered, Oh, yeah. I like movies. I can talk about movies. The trick is to find people I enjoy talking to.
Our film was not in competition, which means there was no official screening. But we held a private screening at the Short Film Corner that went very well, and this morning we got an offer from an international film distributor. I'll keep you posted....
Overall, the festival was very good to us.
We even managed to finagle tickets to a red carpet screening, which was surreal, though a little less glamorous than I'd imagined. They basically kept us (the balcony ticket holders) in a cattle pen until all the swanky people had done their turn in front of the photographers, then rushed us in from the side and up the steps as the lights were going down in the theater. One of the tuxedoed security thugs did find a moment to chastise Ricky, pointing at the beautiful brown leather oxfords we'd sourced at a vintage store in London.
"Your shoes," he told Ricky, "are not good."
Women are required to wear heels on the red carpet and, apparently, men are required to wear black shoes. But the thug let him by with a warning.
We'll buy Ricky black shoes for next year, I guess?
*****
And now, back to 😎🚫💊 . I've got 58 pages, and 52 of them don't suck.
I'd like to say we'll have a finished draft by July 1—there are people who want to read the thing!—but I'll be realistic and aim for a page a day. A page a day I can do. A page a day will get us very close.
*****
This month in shoe-shopping: Don't judge....... But I bought a $29 pair of plastic Birkenstocks, and they served me well for all of our tromping around. The monotone black sole + strap actually make them feel more elegant than the traditional cork-soled Birks, provided you're willing to ignore the farting noises they make when air gets trapped beneath your feet.
This month in confectionary: When the festival was over we spent a few days in Basque Country, hanging out with Ricky's cousin who helps run this magical place. To say that Gary pressed a lot of sweets on us would be an understatement. The Xaxu, which is gluten-free, sort of a Basque answer to the macaron, was KILLER when consumed with a sliver of aged sheep's cheese.
This month in tacos: On to Stockholm. I had the best fish taco of my life at B.A.R. Simple corn tortilla. A dab of delicious, lemony guac. And the fish! The fish (the sea bass, to be precise) was fresh and delicate and perfectly grilled. No need for breading or slaw or weird white sauce 🐠✨
This month in the tiny house/garden: The peppers died and squirrels ransacked the succulents, but our cacti are thriving. We could go away for six months and they wouldn't even notice.
*****
xoxo,
Laramie
p.s. If you know a writer or a film buff or a taco head or anyone who might appreciate this newsletter, please forward it! As you may have noticed, I've decided not to make the archive available online. Feels more sneaky/special this way.
Don't miss what's next. Subscribe to The Laramie Report: