Once a year, Cannes transforms into a stage for the global film world. The Côte d’Azur glows—not just in the early morning light, but in the shimmer of those who come to show films, find films, and, most of all, to be seen.
I sit in a small street café, just steps from the Croisette. In front of me, a steaming, almost-too-bitter coffee. Beside me, half a croissant. And beyond: the morning spectacle.
Women in evening gowns walking cobblestones in sneakers—the heels come later, when day turns to night. Men with open collars and tuxedo jackets slung over their shoulders. Between them, people with lanyards and swinging badges: Market, Festival, Press. Some hurry to screenings, others—like me—sit in the sun, stealing a quiet moment between meetings, receptions, and premieres.
Cannes is festival and market, myth and machine. Behind the glamour of the premieres, there’s whispering and hoping: for deals, recognition, sales, the start of a festival journey. Filmmakers pitch teasers, seek funding, international co-producers, world sales reps, or distributors. Producers juggle calendars, calculate grants, schedule meetings—and attend parties. Yes, those are part of it too. As is a lot of rosé.
Between the dark cinemas—where silence can speak louder than applause—and the noise of the Croisette lies a world of conversations, hopes, and strategies. It’s a place for networking, but also for stories. Sometimes you find them on the screen, sometimes at the coffee table. Cannes is less glamour than many imagine—and far more work than it appears.
I'm here to scout films. Even now, days before the official start of this year’s festival—looking ahead to Dokumentale 2026. Stories still in progress, just completed, or barely known but already necessary. I don’t drown in the current of the festival, but I let it carry me—from encounter to encounter, from screening to screening.
Because behind all the sparkle lies one truth: for many of the 15,000 accredited attendees, Cannes isn’t a holiday destination. It’s a workplace, a runway, a stage—and a backstage. A place where dreams are born—and sometimes, they even come true.
