Les parapluies de Cannes

Has Cannes been upstaged by Planet Hollywood's debut along the Riviera? Or a British fashion show on the steps of the Palais? How about the swanky opening of Isabelle Adjani's temporary daycare centre on the Croisette?

As if to distract everyone from a crappy lineup of films in competition this year, an exceptional number of rock stars, models, designers and famous jury members are before the flashbulbs. Clearly the sideshows for the festival's 50th anniversary are headlining the circus.

But what a sideshow! After the echoing thud of the opening film--Luc Besson's The Fifth Element--any levity has been welcome. Enter the Spice Girls. All cheek and cheer, they were promoting their upcoming movie at a riotous press conference. The advocates of Girl Power showed us what they were made of: diligently holding hands and talking over each other's microphones, they yelled that Spice: The Movie is "Juzt us bein' uz, takin' the mickey out of ourselves."

"It's a bit saucy," confessed Ginger Spice in a red sequined number "and Richard E. Grant's innit, 'e is!" "Ginger's the one who pinched the Prince of Wales's backside," said Scary Spice, looking at home in a leopard print body suit. "I pinch everyone's bottom--why stop at the Prince? Uh, it was wobbly anyways... JOKE!" After singing of few lines of "I'll Be There" a cappella, the Spice Girls led the press in a wave and inspected the mob of French teenagers clogging up the street yelling "Spice sportif! Spice bébé!"

Over at Planet Hollywood, where Bruce Willis and Demi Moore have been holding court each night hosting a party for their friends' films, Iggy Pop spat on Moore and Johnny Depp during a performance, narrowly missing Liv Tyler, Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss. Pop trashed the microphone stand before Demi's adoring gaze and headed Bruce off as he went for his harmonica. Depp didn't bat an eye, too sullen and dejected from the bad reviews of The Brave. Depp's first film as a director is, really, a snuff movie with some native crusading sewn into the lining. Not to worry, though, because the other young actor-turned-director Gary Oldman handed in a film that would do Mike Leigh proud. Nil by Mouth is a brutally frank tale about the slums of South London. Petty crime, alcoholism and domestic violence are the order of the day. Oldman dedicated the film to his father--undoubtedly a tough nutter--and said that it is autobiographical.

Later, when asked to compare his own supporting performance in the Besson film to Bruce Willis's starring role, Oldman said, "On a film like this, I don't try to upstage anything--the sets or the clothes. The Fifth Element is not David Mamet. You have to surrender to the size of it." Willis added, rapid-fire, "Luc is better than Spielberg and his film is gonna be a big fucking smash, man!"

While Bruce and Demi have been preening, unchecked, around their restaurant, another enfant terrible arrived in town. Director Abel Ferrara (The Funeral) came with The Blackout, bringing Matthew Modine, Claudia Schiffer, Beatrice Dale and Dennis Hopper. Belligerent and drunk at the press conference, wearing a black hat and shades, Ferrara muttered over French questions and kept trying to whisper in Claudia's ear. "No, I won't play Brigitte Bardot for the Godard remake," announced Schiffer, looking classy in a chocolate brown blazer and matching chemise. "I want to start my acting career with smaller roles. I'm not ready..."

"You're ready, baby. You're ready!" Ferrara said into the microphone. Claudia smiled, leaning ever so slightly away from his looming face. "Nude scenes would only interest me if... well, I'd agree to a nude scene if it was like the one in The Piano," said Schiffer.

"With Harvey? Please!" interrupted Ferrara, taking a swig of his Budweiser.

Ang Lee, as you can imagine, was a class act in comparison. His The Ice Storm is a contender for the Palme d'Or and actors Kevin Kline and Sigourney Weaver were on hand. "I'm hooked on period pieces since Sense and Sensibility," confessed Lee. "This time, it's the '70s in America."

Offering something more than the self-referential twaddle that stars usually provide, Weaver observed that "Elvis finally caught up with the middle class in the mid-'70s. It's a period in American history that an outsider, like Ang, can see more clearly than we can. The story is like one huge heart breaking."

Lee's film, about mid-life crises and family life, rises above the mess of mediocre movies in the lineup, as does Wim Wender's The End of Violence. Atom Egoyan's film is still to come. So until then, back to the stylish thrillers about disorganized crime.