Yellow is an unhappy colour

I queued for Blindness for about an hour this morning and couldn't get in; about 1000 journalists were in line, and no one with a yellow pass made it into the theatre. Now I'm parked outside the press conference room, and will try to get in soon, but I don't have my hopes up. There's another screening of Blindness later tonight, and I'm hoping that everyone with superior passes will be too busy out at exclusive parties to attend. Right?

Last night there was a party at the Majestic for British filmmakers, and I was able to meet a couple working on their first feature film. It's called "Quick, slip me a bride", and awful title aside, it sounds like a good project - they're trying for bollywood-hollywood crossover appeal. They gave me the full pitch and one of their business cards, and I'm going to watch their short film later today. There's this racing quality to Cannes, and it's great that I'm exempt from all the industry competition smaller filmmakers are caught in. The beige-upholstered security force is the only thing I have to deal with every day, not trying to get a distribution deal for my tiny film. Meeting the filmmakers made the festival seem small--like people say it used to be--and definitely inflated my pride in The Saint (now considered a legitimate means of promotion for tiny films, apparently).

Right now I'll attempt to sneak into the press conference room, but I'll write later, once I've managed to watch a film. I think the security guards have gone on a break...so there's hope!