The cinetrix has been trying, in vain, to lay off the New York Times's Cannes Journal "blog," but there are so many provocations. Here's the latest in the perils of Pauline moanings of Manohla:
Yesterday was kind of a bust, hence the near-absence of any "blogging." I got shut out of the 8:30 a.m. press screening for the Jarmusch, which was a drag. (This is the first time I've ever been shut out of a morning press screening.) I showed up before 8:30, but there was a mob of far pushier and taller people who I just couldn't elbow past. I kept thinking about how if I were younger and wearing spike heels, as I used to do once upon a punk time, I could have dug my heels into everyone else's feet on my way toward my goal. By the time I finally did squeeze to the front, the publicist was pulling select people out of the mob. But since he didn't know me and because I am far too embarrassed to yell "New York Times," I remained behind. I'll see the Jarmusch today at the second press screening or so I hope.
Heh. "Blogging" is right. She's got the excuse-making part down. Otherwise, I got three words for ya, MD. Ah, but which three? Some candidates:
I mean, is she trying to get fired? Too embarrassed to yell "New York Times"? Then what are they paying you for? Perhaps the Paris bureau chief can come yell it for you? Or one of your other critic pals could block for you?
Speaking honestly, Manohla's posts have been just the sort of accounts the cinetrix might file--with friends. But I can't think this woe-is-me litany is what readers who would kill to be at Cannes want to experience vicariously.
